Reading A Face

2015 will be the year that we do a little more travelling. We hope to gets some downtime in Sitges, Spain, catch up with old friends in Australia and fit in a city / conference break in Ottawa, so with this initiative must come some reality.
Looking after a menagerie of waifs and strays is not always conducive to an out-of-village social life, so it was with a pragmatic heart that I have decided to streamline my responsibilities on the field.
The geese and the hens will stay, but I  am  now firm that I will not be taking on anymore needy creatures into the Ukrainian village and I decided that the ducks, who only provide a few eggs to the general kitty , needed to be moved on.
After much searching , I found a committed smallholder who I thought would fit the bill, and today she drove over from the Island of Angelsey to view the ducks.
Now when dealing with re homing animals it is vital to " read" any potential owner carefully, and I was pleased that the woman that arrived had a wide,  open face and an easy smile..
Before I even took her over to the field, I watched her reaction to the dogs, and I was relieved to see her react to them with with an easy relaxed manner.

She even coped with Winnie's masturbatory overtures against her wellies with an unflustered alacrity stating simply that " That bulldog needs a touch of bromide in her tea!"

She was an animal woman for sure .
And so , in a selection of boxes and cat baskets the ducks headed off to a new life in an open field and a new pond.

A post coital Winnie this afternoon

The Theory Of Everything

The Theory Of Everything is a worthy film . The story of the relationship between Steven Hawking and his wife Jane from their meeting in 1960s Cambridge until their break up in the 1980s is one that I have seen reenacted many many times during my days working with spinal Cord Injury patients. The pressures of caring for a severely disabled loved one so often creates an insurmountable wedge in even the most robust of relationships and this difficult journey was sensitively and at times beautifully observed in the James March fïlm, as Jane Hawking ( Felicity Jones) and Husband Steven ( Eddie Redmayne) finally split after years of battling his motor neurone disease together.

Regular readers of Going Gently may remember that my brother Andrew died from motor neurone disease three years ago now, and I must admit that some scenes in the film, I found rather difficult to watch. One sequence in particular had a certain resonance with me.
It  was the scene where the  already disabled Hawking hosted a meal with his university chums after obtaining his PhD. As the table banter of eating and drinking grew louder, Hawking's alienation from the situation increased, so much so he felt obliged to leave the table to sit alone on the stairs.
I witnessed a similar scene when at a family meal , my brother who was unable to eat a normal diet, got up from the table during a coughing fit to sit alone in the living room out of the way.
I remember the family carrying on with the dinner the best we could, while my brother in law quietly joined my brother in an act of support and solidarity.
I also remember that he kissed my brother on the head, a little gesture of sweetness in the face of a very, very cruel illness.
Funny what you remember eh?

When Was The Last Time Someone Flirted With You?

Yesterday we were returning " an item" to Marks & Spencer when the salesman kept presenting me with paperclips that had been attached to the sales receipts.
I was a bit perplexed by these theatrics and as we walked away with a credit note I  asked Chris
" what was all that about?"
Chris raised his Roger Moore right eyebrow in amusement
" He was flirting with you" he said somewhat drily.

Well I was made up!
Even though I hadn't got a clue what had occurred it is always nice to think someone may have made the effort to flirt with me, even though it was through the medium of a bent paperclip!

Who was the last person that flirted with you?
Answers on a postcard please.....

Badger Paw

The shop assistant was called Emma and she was very sweet

She looked at Chris' wedding finger and guessed correctly that he was a " S "  fit

He has the long slim hands of a piano player

Having said that he did get the wedding band stuck on his finger for a while

until Emma said quietly and without fuss

" the secret is not to panic and wiggle the ring to get it off" 

Of course she was right.

Chris waggled it and it slipped right off

Then she looked at my stubby fat fingers and said diplomatically 

" I think we'll try a " V" to start with

I can't help having fat hands

They look like badger's paws!

Early Doors

Tonight we went to the pub for early doors......it's something we never generally do.......
How exciting!
We thrashed out the seating plan for the wedding dinner.....and agreed that our friend John ( Bel Ami)  may well like to read something out at the ceremony. ( he's appeared on radio 4 's " Women's Hour" so IS a consummate professional when it comes to " do's")........I've already asked My best friend Nuala to say something and Chris' Brother will speak for his family......so I think we have all bases covered......
It's been rather fun planning everything .....and I am so glad the whole event is small and manageable .....so many weddings feed on themselves and get completely out of control........
Our wedding.......less is more........
Ps. I'm not used to drinking lager
Three pints and I had to have a crafty pee behind the Berlingo on the way home

How Others See you.....

Gale force winds and driving rain wasn't quite the welcome to 2015 I had in mind. At 4.30. It was pissing down , so I dug out my oversize green plastic hooded poncho and stood by the gate waiting for the last of the hens to make their way home.
With the wind whipping my cape, I thought I looked every inch of Meryl Streep in "The French Lieutenant's Woman"
Mysterious, ethereal and windswept.
The truth was somewhat different , for as the Son ( of the RFWF) went passed in his landrover, he noticed that the gales had " filled" the poncho and quipped cheerfully
" you look like the Hindenberg"
Everybody's a critic

Mapp & Lucia

If you are at home tonight and not worried about putting on a party hat and blowing a kazoo, I would recommend you watch Steve Pemberton's adaptation of E F Benson's MAPP & LUCIA which airs it's final episode tonight on BBC1.
Set in the picturesque seaside town of Tilling during the early 1930s it centres of the " playing" between Queen Bee spinster Elizabeth Mapp ( Miranda Richardson)  and theatrical socialite Lucia Lucas ( Anna Chancellor).
It's a comedy about social snobbery, one upmanship and small town life amid a collection of wonderfully eccentric local folk ( does that sound familiar?)  but amongst the pithy one liners and back stabbing storylines  the short series is almost a miniature essay of the phenomenon of "wanting to belong." Which has a certain pathos on screen.
Chancellor and Richardson are delightful in the lead roles and Tilling ( Rye in East Syssex) looks as sweet as a chocolate box top.........
Anyhow, I thought a mini review more interesting than the normal 2014 post mortem ....
I shall be working night shift tonight.......so I shall welcome in 2015 over the hiss- swish of eight Galileo ventilators.
Happy New Year
Xx

Murder In Trelawnyd

Winnie's favourite cock!

Her christmas squeak toy

Around 4 am this morning it was plainly evident that foul play had occurred in Trelawnyd for there was silence over the West part of the village.
The cockerel that roosts in the beech trees of the graveyard had gone.

The little bastard has been crowing lustily in the dark early mornings since he was dumped on me, and every effort on my behalf to catch him had failed miserably , so after several months surviving the elements , I found it strange that when we disappeared to Kent for a few days, he was gone  on our return!
The  mystery had everything of a Miss Marple adventure to it!
Who were the culprits of this heinous crime?
Was the abduction the responsibility of marauding badgers?
(Doubtful as badgers can't climb trees)
Or was it one of the residents of the lane, pig sick of the crowing in the middle of the night that might  have paid a local hit farmer to blast the noisy bastard right off his perch ?
Could it be trendy Carol or her husband Ewan from the end house?
Or Viv and Mike from the bungalow? (They may be pensioners but I've always noticed a steely strong stare behind the spectacles )
Or could it be John and Mandy from next door? They may have grinned their way through my frequent apologies with a Crisp " no he didn't wake us us this morning!" kind of statement but I was sure they were gritting their teeth behind the polite smiles
Whoever it was , not a feather was left behind to shed light on the case!

And peace has returned to Bwthyn y llan

It's made my Christmas!