Oooouch

I couldn't get the Marks' Cummerbund around my guts .
Chris had opened the box, expecting us to buy the bloody thing straight off
But it didn't fit.
The bloody thing didn't fit.
It was too small.
Even " extended" to it's fullest extension.
It was too small
This was in the centre of the shop, with men in pork pie hats giving me pitying looks as they walked past with their easy crease pants in their hands.
I felt like Julia Roberts down Rodeo Drive in Pretty Woman
( but without the teeth and the big hair)

I don't deal with embarrassment well.
I tend to experience it as its big sister ..the slightly more powerful emotion of humiliation .
And no one does humiliation well.

We can all remember humiliating experiences as if they occurred only yesterday. A fall in public, toilet paper down the leg of your pants, a drunken wrong word, a Mega fart over a vegetable freezer in Aldi ( one of my best btw) all of them take me back to childhood, when I was picked last for games, embarrassed by unenlightened teachers or shown up by parents who should have known better.
Embarrassment can be coped with by having a good sense of humour ( which I have)
Humiliation just has to be endured .

..... Well I survived the cummerbund experience...just..........
And by the way...the suit fits mighty fine

" Is She Dead?"

Well , I was going to start today's post with a shot of the troupe of  some thirty sparrows that live in the Honeysuckle which covers our front door. In this cold snap, the morning feeding of the hens allows them, a few aggressive robins, four collared doves, and a whole plethora of blackbirds, starlings and crows to fill their fat beaks with as much corn as they can shovel in.
Like I said , I thought I would snap a quick photo, but Bingley seemed to be in a playful mood and kept wanting to get into the action.
He's a bit of an old actor if the truth be known.

Kevin Kline in My Old Lady

Anyhow speaking of actors,last night, we went to see Maggie Smith, Kirsten Scott Thomas and Kevin Kline in the " charming" filmed play of " My Old Lady" .I won't review it properly , suffice to say that it was beautifully acted and sweet, but not really a cracking watch given the fact it was a story of how parents can fuck up their kids.
The little cinema at theatre Clwyd was full with grey hairs when we arrived, and next to me was an ancient woman with bleached blond hair dressed in a leopard skin coat, who kept falling asleep and  snoring during the film. Every ten minutes or so, I found myself nudging her awake and by the time Kirsten Scott Thomas got into a clinch with Kevin Kline , ( who could have been her half brother!)
The woman had slumped in her chair with her mouth open, prompting Chris to remark very loudly
" is that woman DEAD.?"... A comment that still didn't wake the old bag up.....
Really, old people can be very badly behaved ...........
Anyhow off to Chester now to buy my wedding suit
Wish me luck

Blowing Your Final Raspberry

I think I've had a bit of a wobble this morning
One of the hens gave a loud fart when she burst out of the hen house this morning and dropped dead at my feet.
I suspect it's got me to thinking how insignificant we all are.
In a hen, fart, drop dead, sort of way that is.

Perhaps it's the wedding?
Perhaps it's a middle aged thing
Or perhaps it's the fact that the gossip from the WALKING DEAD spoiler site is that Tyreese gets zombiefied in the latter part of series 5...... it all feels a bit easy come easy go kind of day.

Perhaps it's easier being that "fart- until- I -die" hen!
When you blow your final raspberry THATS IT!
It's OVER!
Your fellow hens walk over you without a second glance and the only thing you are missed for is the fact there is one less egg to be collected.

Like I said to Tom Stephenson a bit earlier,
I think I've walked around the graveyard one too many times today
Hey ho

Me, me me me........Me

To some I am just a shambling pile of stuffy clothes on the other end of four dog leads.
Occasionally, these people may note, that I wear a grey and black Woolley hat.
To Chris I am a partner, a homemaker, a confidant, and a flatulent bed warmer.
I am a brother, slightly distant uncle, an affable brother in law and a popular nephew.
I am also an orphan.
I am best friend to a few and a good friend to a few more
I am a cheerful acquaintance to many.
I am a supportive work collegue, and an average intensive care nurse
However I am an excellent rehab nurse and once was a popular boss who is, I would like to think, still missed by my staff
I am secretary to a sweet small village flower Show.and I am obsessed by film, and zombie tv shows
I am pack leader to four dogs, and Pride leader to one small wide eyed cat.
I am associated with food and water by a varied flock of pea sized brained fowl.
I am an egg seller, good neighbour and a sucker for a good sob story.
I am an average academic, a bad gardener and a plain cook.
I am a good Samaritan
I am also opinionated, stubborn and incredibly bad tempered first thing in the morning.
I am......I am..........I could go on!

A Conversation

Last night I was working alongside a guy I had never met before and in between jobs we got chatting about our respective lives .
Job histories, places we have lived , grand kids, Bulldogs, the city of New York, getting married, we covered a few topics over the course of a few hours, and before I left for home, he turned to me and said
" Isn't it wonderful that we live in the here and now"
I asked him what he meant by that remark and he explained thus
" a few years ago, I never would have believed I would ever have had a conversation with a bloke about getting married to another bloke!"
" and now you have!" I said
" and it's  about bloody time" he said with a smile.

*the video, I have posted before, is an award winning tv advert from Australia

3 Days

3 days to go!

Notes On An Ordinary Day

Snowdrops in the graveyard this morning

Sometimes you just get in the mood for something basic!
A piece of chocolate, a gin and tonic,.....sex!
Whatever the object of desire is.....it's always good to scratch an itch so to speak.
Today I got the urge to cook and bake.
After bog standard jobs first thing, I walked  up to the shop to buy some butter, bumping into villagers Wendy, Daphne and Frank, Rowenna with the crooked wave, the wisecracking Barbara Parry and animal helper Pat as I did so. Most commented on the  fact that I didn't have the dogs with me. Catching me without the dogs is as unsettling to some as me finding Jimmy Savile sat at the kitchen table in one of his silver track suits.
I bought the butter and as I delivered extra eggs to Purgatory on my way home, I spied Mrs Trellis walking her dog way up the lane. Satan was dragging her so fast up the hill that her bobble hat was bouncing back and forth so much, that she resembled an energetic pixie.
I thought to myself that I should try the homoeopathic medication she had given him the other week, when he had collapsed so dramatically.....
It seems to have worked wonders.
Anyhow the rest of the morning I have been baking

I baked chicken pies, a fruit pie, made custard and  spicy squash & Carrot soup from scratch and would have baked some bread if I hadn't dropped the yeast behind the cooker.
The weak winter sun has brought out several sets of walkers, all of whom have stopped by the garden wall to buy eggs. Unfortunately Pippa from the rectory bought them all up a little earlier.
She had her Zsa Zsa Gabor fur hat on I noticed and looked very swish!
This afternoon I polished the silver with tomoto ketchup
It's a trick my grandmother taught me and is useful if you run out of silver cleaner.......Mrs Evans called around for eggs and asked if I had been pickling onions

I've just boxed up the soup for freezing......and as I did so caught Albert with his whole face in the custard. I'll pick the bits of cat spit out, Chris will never notice......hey ho.....

A Pig In A Drainpipe

I was busy at work last night and didn't go for my break until 4 am?
I fell asleep in the coffee room right in the middle of eating a banana, and was only woken 25 minutes later after one of the doctors , who was on his break, coughed very loudly.
I knew I had been snoring
I always do.
I had been dribbling too......with a little line of spit was hanging down from the side of my mouth and what was left of the banana had been squashed flat in my lap.
I'm a real classy chick
" have I been snoring?" I asked the medic
" like a sick pig caught in a drainpipe" he said rather huffily.
It's not a nice habit.
Years ago, I was helping out at the Inter Spinal Injury Games at the Stoke Mandeville para Olympic village, where I had to share a dormitory with an eclectic mixture of paraplegics, quadriplegics and able bodied " helpers"
One night I was snoring so loudly that two paraplegics got up in their wheelchairs and tried to push my bed out of the fire exit in order to get a little bit of peace.