Arsehole

 Wednesday night is Bake off night.
It's when I spend a happy hour, tut tutting at the state of a sponge Finger and texting back and forth with best friend Nuala about the state of someone's baked Alaska.
Tonight was just a little different

For every time the slightly big headed know all Luis came on the screen, showing off his magnificent sauce sponge puddings, Chris would pipe up from his comfortable position on the couch with a rather surprising and uncharacteristic shout of

" ARSEHOLE!"

It was only then I realized he had taken one diazepam ( he's flying to canada this weekend and wanted to see if the prescribed medication he may use on the flight would affect him in any way)

Thank goodness " The Great British Bake Off" isn't shown on British Airways' in flight entertainment !

Mostyn Hall

Just three miles north East of Trelawnyd lies the historic country house Mostyn hall. The 15th Century house is a private seat of the latest Lord Mostyn who is 29 years old and the 13th richest man in a Britain under the age of 30.

The house has been opened to the public for a few weeks this year for the very first time, so, after a glowing report from my sister who had a guided tour of the Hall last week.I drove up to have a look for myself.

It was a fascinating hour out of my day. With only 8 of us on the tour, we had time to look at Charles The first's death warrant signed by Oliver Cromwell ( Oliver P)', learn all about the flamboyant Savage Mostyn who was responsible for the design of the modern sailor uniform!

and notice the cans of coke almost hidden away on the drinks trolley in the library.

As usual with these ancient family homes of Britain, the interest was not only in the grand public rooms which were a real delight, it was the quick glimpses of the 1970 avocado bathrooms which gave the whole visit a grounding in the normal

A painting of Mostyn hall's delightful library

Easily Pleased

Snap

Chris always accuses me of being bulldog biased.
I don't think that is true, but I do have to concede that looking after a " rehomed bulldog bitch" does have  specific pleasures that are unique to the breed.
The terriers were loved and spoilt right from the start.
Winnie was a veteran of two litters in a busy breeding household when she arrived
The terriers were trained in car travel, lead walking and social etiquette when they were barely out of their puppy hoods .
Winnie, although sociable, had non of these milestones.
She had to learn all of these puppy skills aged five.

And so I always find her ability to find pleasure in the smallest of day to day activities incredibly moving.
I was thinking only this when were were out for a walk in torrential rain yesterday afternoon.
The terriers were walking dutifully by my side...Heads down, eyes tight against the wind
In their centre was Winnie with her head up, piggy eyes bright with a big stupid grin on her chops.

A simple walk in the pouring rain and she looked liked the cat who had got the cream.

Wet Family

The Ice Bucket Challenge in support of MNDA (Motor Neurone Disease Association) has reached North Wales in force. My family has subjected themselves to a soaking and have raised a tidy sum for the MND Association. I guess this is the power of social media and charity work.......
well done to them....
Shame on those that enjoy the limelight and the soak without the financial sting!
They are just drama queens!
from left to right
Aunt Judy, Sister Janet, Brother in law Tim, Great Nephew Louis, Nephew Peter and wife Tracie,big sister Ann, Brother in law Ned , cousin Karen and second cousin Jack
My Brother Andrew's wife Jayne is filming.
Andrew died of MND two and a half years ago

Lesson learned

Right....all those red blooded men and women out there please take note

Make sure you don't say something " playful" &  " fruity" to your partner

When you are perusing the cakes in marks & Spencer's bakery

A young man behind us who  was reaching forward for a French stick got more than he bargained for

this afternoon!

Kill.....kill......kill them all!

I absolutely hate working two nights in a row over a weekend.
I never get enough sleep through Sunday
This is Because:-

The Church bell will invariably ring before eleven or three, depending on the service

The dogs down the lane will become apoplectic with hysteria when Pippa and her badly behaved mongrel bitch pass by

And the phone will go at least once during the day!

Add to this mix the huffing and puffing from Chris when he completes the most routine of daytime chores in my absence and we have a recipe for serial killing!
With me being the serial killer!

Happy Days!

Music to cry to

After all that seriousness...I think a bit of nostalgia is in order

Dan Hill

Music to cry to when you were a teen

What was yours?

Do Your Best

 I've just read two blog posts that discuss aspects of suicide. The act and the intention of the the act. Both made me think.
And both were incredibly sad in their own way.
My professional life has been touched by suicide many times
It has also been cushioned by professional distance, support, supervision, and an acceptance that all one can do at the suicide " front line" is your best.
Your best to read the signs that suicide may occur.
Your best to prevent the act,
And your best to treat the illness that may be clouding the intention .
" Do your best"
If you believe the phrase....it's the only sure way of dealing with suicide without driving yourself at worst potty or at best clinically ineffective.

I spoke to someone the other night who was contemplating suicide
It was a serious conversation, by a gentle and vulnerable person and was one that I tried so hard to facilitate a positive outcome from.
I will never know if I helped
That 35 minute conversation has lingered long in my mind all week.
I think I did my best

I hope I did.