Dipping One's Nipples In The River

I know , I know, it's shameless but I promise to get to the nipple thing in a moment
It's a beautiful day today, warm and sunny.
The Prof is still somewhat weakened by his shitty experience and is working in his office with the heating full blast and with coffee on tap, me and the animals have been outside .
In the garden the Welsh poppies are in flower and look glorious

The garden Welsh Poppies

With the day so warm , I took the dogs out along the only major river near us, which is the River Elwy at St Asaph. You have to be careful with Bulldogs in hot weather for they over heat dreadfully so the riverside is ideal for Winnie, who has a novel way of cooling down when things get tough.
She walks into the Water and when the cold water reaches nipple height ( which for Winnie is only a few inches off the ground) she stands there smacking her chops with a contented look upon her face.
Nipples must lose heat better than anywhere me thinks!
I didnt have my ipad on me today to record this behaviour but a passing woman with a constipated Yorkshire terrier  did stop and took a photo with her smart phone.
Perhaps she was jealous?
Women readers who may enjoy a quick " nipple dunk" may be able to help me here?

U

The River Elwy at St Asaph

Anyhow , I've also realised that I am self appointed village sad sack as today was the day that I went
around the two village noticeboards with my trusty allen key and celotape in order to tidy the notices
up. I know it's nothing to do with me but it appeals to my " small town " sensibilities

Anyhow , I'll leave you with a movie recommendation .
Go and see the film X+Y
It's a sweet film which tells the story of  Nathan ( Asa Butterfield) a teenage mathematics genius who lives for the day to be picked to represent Britain in the International Mathamatic Olympiad .
Nathan has autism , and cannot relate physically and socially to his recently widowed mother ( Sally Hawkins) nor to his fellow students and teachers, but salvation appears for both mother and son with the arrival of a slovenly and depressed home teacher  ( Rafe Small) who despite having multiple sclerosis, reluctantly agrees to school Nathan in preparation for the Olympiad finals .

Asa Butterfield and Sally Hawkins 

This is a little gem of a movie, made even better by some wonderful performances  by the three leads. 

Butterfield is heartbreaking as a boy who only makes sense of a world of numbers and fractions  as is 

Hawkins who is desperate to be able to break through to her son as both are grieving for a much 

loved husband and father, but it is Rafe Small's  wisecracking turn as the overwhelmingly depressed mentor that  almost steals the film.

Unfortunately,  the film plumps for a sentimental ending where  mother and son contact  emotionally ( a slightly  unrealistic situation for a deeply austic boy to be able to do)  but I have to say it did please me through the tears! 

A cracking movie 8/10

Final Words

At least I didn't fluff The eulogy at Bob's funeral this afternoon. I was a bit worried because I had a coughing fit during ABIDE WITH ME which pissed me off as I love to belt out the last chorus, but I got through it without burping, farting or spluttering
I sat on the last pew with Meirion Ellis and Auntie Glad and felt it had gone down well when the new woman in Bron Haul standing at the back of the Church gave me the " thumbs up" when I sat down.
Gaynor, the mad organist also asked if I would do her eulogy when the time came, I told her yes but it would " cost her" , I'm getting a dab hand at this funeral speech thing me thinks.

What eulogy would you like at your funeral dear reader?
I kind of like The final words of Joan Rivers ' eulogy which was penned by her daughter Melissa

It goes

In closing, I hope I have satisfactorily anwsered your complaints and queries. I love having you live with me and I am grateful for every minute Cooper and I have with you. You are an inspiration. You are also 30 days late with the rent!"

A Fanny In The Face

With Melanie Wilks still on his deathbed upstairs, I took the opportunity to sneak out on the field to write Bob's eulogy for tomorrow. Its blowing a gale but is strangely warm , so after I wrote the bulk of it, I indulged myself in a spot of cloud watching.

I love cloud watching in the sunshine, and so do the dogs who often tiptoe up, one by one , to lie in the crook of an arm  or snuggle up against a foot or a shoulder.

To passing cars, I am sure , I resemble the grave of John Gray with four Greyfriar's Bobbies standing guard!
It was only a matter of time before I started to doze,
And only woke when a sudden shadow blocked out the sun.
I opened my eyes just in time to see a massive bulldog fanny being lowered slowly and very purposefully downwards!
I feel defiled

Bothered By Gobbling

I had to make an emergency run to the supermarket this morning for toilet rolls,  bleach spray and washing machine liquid.
I've not been feeling  too sparkling myself...but there's plenty to do at the sick cottage.
The Prof is still in bed, and at three pm , I had just closed my eyes in the living room arm chair for a quick break when the Church Bell bloody well started....with the hormonal Bingley gobbling away in the background of each ring
Peace and quiet in the countryside eh?

Oh , and while I remember, I read out your comments on Mrs Trellis' dog eulogy to Mrs Trellis the other day, and she was exceptionally grateful for each and every one.
On tuesday she picks up her new dog from the animal rescue centre
He is a border collie, called Joey

Being sick in the 1970s

I've just gone out to get some lucozade for the Prof

only to be disappointed not to find it presented 

in it's traditional glass bottle with the yellow cellophane

Memories of  my childhood sickness'

Include

Lucozade ( which was rationed)

Vicks rubbed on  my chest,

A washing up bowl complete with a splash of dettol  left by the bed,

Lying on the couch under an eiderdown watching schools programmes

( no proper tv was shown during the day)

Dry toast and clear soup

Sweaty pyjamas

Breathing menthol from a bowl of hot water with a towel over your head
Feeling special

BTW
Everything remains shitty here in Trelawnyd

Hey ho

Botty Troubles

It looks as though The Prof has a rather nasty bout of food poisoning.

A case of a dodgy prawn quiche in Dublin airport he thinks.

I think it's a case of too much work, not enough sleep coupled with a bad prawn but what do I know?

" Do you think it could be EBola?" The Prof asked weakly from his deathbed this morning

" There's not a great deal of EBola in North Wales" I replied.

This morning's convalescence has only been interrupted the once when Albert

brought a live sparrow into the bedroom, with all four dogs hysterically in tow

I was busy preparing a light toast breakfast, so the first thing I heard of the event was the Prof 

croaking a rather muted " Bird BIRD! B-I-R-D" in an effort not to raise his abdominal pressure too much

Luckily the sparrow escaped through the open bathroom window before it was gassed to death

( if you get my drift)

Poorly Prof

The Prof never made it to Denmark.

He came down with a temperature on the train to the airport and I ordered him home.

I put him to bed just after I picked up the Berlingo ( which passed it's MOT with some financial help)

and in bed he's stayed.

I've been up and down those stairs 100 times so far

Who needs friggin weightwatchers?

Things Change

The election whips old Trelawnyd-ites into a frenzy

I'm on catch up today. After taking Chris to the train ( he's off to Denmark for a conference) I collected coal, visited the supermarket then took the Berlingo in for it's MOT . I was running late but managed to get a lift back to the village just in time to have a meeting with my friend Bob's family and the vicar.....
Given the absolutely awful state the Berlingo is in , I was in two minds in asking the Vicar for a bucket of Holy water to drench the poor thing in, fingers crossed it limps through..........I shall find out later.

I have been asked by Bob's wife to deliver an Eulogy at his funeral on Tuesday. His two sons told me today that they would be too emotional  to speak themselves , so I am happy to " stand in" so to speak, but it is a big responsibility to pitch the reading just right.
I hope I can do the family proud.

It was after midday when I finally got home and had just taken the dogs out for a late walk when I spied one of the farm workers passing through high street listening to his car radio
" what's the latest about the election ?" I asked and he laughed long and hard
" Cameron's in ...and every other fucker has resigned" he called out
" Miliband, Clegg and that twat Farage have all gone" he added when I shrugged my shoulders
" who would have thought it?"
Yes indeed..who would have thought it.

As I ambled around the village with Winnie merrily breaking wind rather loudly as we turned into Chapel Street, I found myself thinking one thought

Things change........things stay the same