A Bad Egg

The other day I had a complaint about my eggs!
It was done very nicely, but the complaint was very clear and assertively made
" Some of your eggs were not up to ther usual standard " was the coment that came over loud and very clear.
You couldn't have hurt my feelings more if I had been Katy Price and you had pointed at my cleavage and shouted " You've got saggy tits you bubble headed self publicist!"
I was wounded to the quick.
But the customer is always right, so I apologised profusely and promised to hand over a few extra eggs as compensation on my next delivery but something kept niggling me after the customer said that some of the whites were cloudy!
The I remembered.....CLOUDY WHITES ARE AN OCCASSIONAL SIGN OF VERY FRESH EGGS! ( which is all about the amount of carbon dioxide being dissolved within the egg)
Flushed with righteous indignity, I immediately rang the customer back and left a rather rapid, excited and " How very dare you" message on the answerphone complete with a lengthy scientific back up about the nature of fresh eggs.
Later that day there was a message on our telephone answer machine
It was a somewhat exasperated man's voice  which stated
"You left a somewhat garbled message about eggs.......
Just to let you know you rang the wrong number"

Wrong even when I'm right!
Other customers please note......my cloudy whites are only a sign of freshness

Savage Rabbits

Pat ( Weaver of Grass) left a comment on yesterday's blog which went a little like this

1. 
   The Weaver of Grass9:01 am

   Oh John - what I love about you is how you manage to make every little episode and incident such fun. Bon voyage Cecil - and you never know what life has in store for you in the future (Cecil i mean, not you!)

   ReplyDelete

I wanted to reply that it runs in the family....this is an abridged part of an email sent to me by my twin sister Janet, who recently got savaged by a rabbit at the pets shop in which she works
It make hilarious reading. I hope she doesn't mind me re printing it

"How are you ...thought I'd message you and share what happened to me yesterday ......Ha ha !
Picture the scene .....half asleep ( at just after 7am ) dressed for action........rubber gloves ...plastic apron on.... I start my clean out .....2 hamsters and one guinea pig down ......its Spikes turn ...he's a rabbit ....a rather gorgeous one ( lion head cross)and one of my favourites ...at least he was ! Now Spike has been getting rather frisky of late with my plastic shovel. ......he bites down on it and shakes it ...hormones I suspect and boredom !

Only yesterday he bit down hard on the fleshy part of my thumb.......I howled in pain and rather ashamedly hit him over the head with my plastic shovel !! Only then did he let go !!
My glove filled with blood ..... I remembered thinking at least it means I won't have to mop the floor.......no spillages there ! Ha ha ......fuck it hurts !
I hot footed it to the office where Ben our supervisor was .......and laughingly demanded he gave me some first aid !
His first reaction was to get a plaster out of the first aid box .....his next reaction was oh shit ! Blood everywhere !
By this time I had started to get very hot and felt sick.............next thing I remembered was thinking how did I get on the floor and how nice and cold it was !! And what the fuck was Ben doing ....oh yeah he's putting me in a recovery position .......hmm nice ......just stay here a while ......what's he saying ...oh shit he's calling for an ambulance ...oh god no !
I don't need one of those ! Really weird hearing everything but not being able to move .....why's he shouting and throwing the phone .....its not working .....enter our cleaner who doesn't speak much English and it's his first day on the job ! Bens ordering him to get the phone out of the groomers and I can hear Ben asking for an ambulance !!
By this time I'm doing my best to move and yes !!  Result ! He's telling the operator I'm coming round ......I'm trying to sit up and tell him I don't want or need a fucking  ambulance when the cleaner comes back into the office to inform me a hamster have escaped .....thanks .....but can't you see I'm rather busy at the moment !
Anyhow a nurse called me back ...I had to phone ned to take me to hospital to get checked over and get some antibiotics ! Returned to work ...finished the clean out

Cecil Finds A New Home

The jungle tom toms within the North Flintshire chicken fraternity must have been banging like good uns for this afternoon an elderly woman who heard through egg seller Eirlys who in turn reads the blog that I needed a good home for Gay Cecil , called me to see if she could have him.
" I have a tiny hen who needs company " she said on the phone " but he has to be small"
Within minutes she had called round and was giving him the once over through huge milk bottle bottom glasses.
Cecil blinked once and screamed at the top of his lungs at the sight of her
" He's very highly strung" I explained  deciding to have a little fun with the whole situation
"Why is that ?" The woman asked " is it the breed?"
" No ... he's gay" I told her
" IS HE.?" The woman sounded surprised " how do you know that?"
I was going to tell her that Cecil loved Barbara Streisand and Celine Dion, re arranging furniture and was particularly fond of looking "FAB-UL-OUS darling" but I stopped myself as I was just being silly
" he's just not interested in sex" I eventually told her
" Well that makes two of us" the woman said brightly
" I'll take him"

Open all hours

Islwyn Thomas ( left) worked in the village shop for many many years

He still lives in the village. This photo was taken in the 1950s

My rose tinted view of everyday Trelawnyd is let down just a little by the absence of a village shop. Now the garage which lies a quarter mile East of Trelawnyd has a busy " Spar " shop which sells everything from coal to tinned custard but it is what it is...fairly grotty shop which is also a busy petrol station.
It is not an " open all hours" shop in which you can stand and have a chinwag. The shop of our childhood, you know the sort, the one which had an old wooden chair by the till, so older customers could sit and rest.
Every morning, a steady stream of hat and scarf wrapped figures can be seen walking along the open road out of the village to the shop. They always remind me of wartime refugees for some reason., wrapped up tightly against the cold with their newspapers tucked under their arms.
The walk is just too far and too cold for many of the village elderly to complete safely.
The garage shop is always busy, I went up there this morning for bread and saw Animal helper Pat, the white haired chap from Well Street, and one of the village counsellors, so it does, indeed cater for a local need, but I do mourn my fantasy shop in the centre of the village where an apron wearing grocer slips Mrs Trellis an extra sausage in some blown paper packaging with a knowing wink

Sewing Bee Is Back

With Chris away, I agreed to do an extra shift at SAMS 

I didn't get back home until 10.30

So when I got home, me and the dogs sneaked off to bed

and shared a bacon sandwich whilst watching

THE GREAT BRITISH SEWING BEE

Which is great reality tv.

I find it amusing that I love this programme so much seeing that I have all the fashion flair of the average black bin bag

Lovely Patrick Grant has shaved off his beard! Shame

It's also good to see that the four blokes taking part ( two straight , two gay)

Are four of the best tailors

For those that don't know this is the competition judge

And the programme sets sewing challenges to 10 amateur sewers

Curo

My only worry about getting married at a registry office is the potential experience of bumping into the back of a late running wedding.
This happened to a couple of friends of mine in Sheffield where the bride  ( who looked incredibly classy and beautiful) had to rub shoulders with a tattooed monstrosity of a bride in a lurid red dress and nicotined stained fingers.
A diminuative, very cheerful and very Welsh registrar I saw today reassured me that this could not possibly happen in Llandudno. " we have an hour between each wedding" he told me proudly in his sing song voice " there are no overrunning problems here!"
After discussing the service in detail , the registrar asked about Trelawnyd and he let slip that he too had a small holding with sheep, and ducks and chickens.
" you don't want a bantam cockerel do you?" I asked, quickly thinking I could possibly rehome the big girl's blouse  Cecil and sort out the wedding running order in one fell swoop.
So, I showed him a photo of the little fella taken only this morning

Cecil and the ever faithful Phyllis Diller

"yesi Mawr!" The registrar exclaimed " that's not a cockerel.....its a sparrow.my hens would give him
Curo!"
" I'll take that as a no then" I said.
( I only found out when I got home that Curo means a beating in Welsh)

Rainbow's End

The cottage smells of paint, winnie still has yelliw stains on her face and I've missed a bit under the radiator!, but most of the paining is finished, which is great for tomorrow I have an appointment with the wedding registrar to go over the wedding...........
Chris told me to " be neat" when I go......
"You don't want to think that we are riff raff" he said raising one Roger Moore eyebrow!
We are having one piece of music during the service......which is  " our tune"......
It had to be a film theme..did it not?
This is it

Who else has an "our song" 

And what is it?

Telepathy

One of Nu's traveling photos

At least once a week, perhaps twice, it is normal for me to touch base with my best friend Nuala. Our phones calls sometimes send Chris slightly bananas , because we often talk in shorthand.
Shorthand is a normal mode of communication between best friends is it not ?
I have really missed our chats over the last month, for Nuala and her husband Jim are in the progress of a " round the world" trip of a lifetime, and so  today,  as I was trying to scrub a load of " Juniper Blush" emulsion from the side of Winnie's face, I found myself thinking of her with just a hint of melancholy.
Then the phone went.
I just knew it was her, I just knew it
And sitting by her hotel pool in deepest Cambodia , it was indeed Nuala on the other end of the phone
Sounding as bright and as clear as she normally flies when ringing from West London.
I am of an age that international phone calls still hold a bit of thrill, and I still find it slightly bizarre that Nu and I had a lovely phone call catch up as I was in a freezing Welsh kitchen splashed with Juniper Bush paint and she was knee deep in Cambodian hospitality sipping cocktails

The Juniper bush kitchen

Ps thanks to Libby for your pressie