Lesbian Lists

I saw BUNTY yesterday afternoon. The strong armed lesbian smallholder from Llanfair T H had collected some bantams from a breeder in Cheshire and stopped to water them on the way home.
I showed her my wedding ring before she even left her land rover and she boomed a massive
" FUCK ME!" through the window before congratulating me with a painful bearhug.
She may look and act like a North American lumberjack, but I've always known that she is soft as butter.
I have known many lesbian couples in my lifetime, but I can't think of a singleton dyke that I have befriended. Lesbians , in my experience, are not single for very long...they prefer being a part of an often intense, inclusive and  loving  relationship.

Years ago, when I was with a previous partner,  We use to " double date" with a painfully intense couple called Sue & Helen.  You know the sort, they were a couple who would kiss and " mew mew" at each other 24/7 if you let them and I remember that once during a dinner party of nut loaf and bean curds ,Helen showed me a life sized sculpture she had made of Sue's vulva !
I never liked either of them

Another long term lesbian twosome we used to know was Jo and Liz. These two always had a lit scented candle floating in a golden bowl filled with water on top of the piano, which signified the constant nature of the love they had for each other.
I always had the urge to throw up in that golden bowl

Micky & Sig own lots of cats, drink too much wine and clearly love each other dearly  and are perhaps the most " normal" of the couples we know and only today I got a phone call from Pam & Mal ( the lesbians with  tremendous DIY skills who constructed two of my donated hen houses in a matter of minutes) They invited us to a nibbles and drinks do  after they get married tomorrow!

Bunty

Good Food Keeps People Happy

It's a foodie kind of day today.
I had forgotten that there was a Church fund raising spring Lunch organised in the Memorial hall around noon today and had already organised to meet my sister in law for lunch at the Potting Shed Cafe at Jackson's garden centre just outside the village.Feeling guilty I popped in to the Hall before I went,  paid my 10£ and collected my lunches as a takeaway, Chris can have them for his tea tonight.

The Vicar is looking for new ideas to raise funds in the village and I see that Chris has already told him and the PCC that I ( me!) will be organising something later in the year .( which was nice of him)
I am toying with the idea of organising a Village supper at the Hall, something warming and fun in the Autumn when the entire village can be invited . A lunch is fine but as most people work during the day, only the grey hairs and lucky old pongos like me can attend....

The food today at the Spring Lunch was simple and tasty, and all was served at tables covered with neat white tablecloths and small vases filled with spring flowers  and I suggested that the Church ladies could have provided a much better funeral tea for Bob's funeral on Tuesday instead of the dreadful spread put on by the village pub, The Crown, which is now under new management.
Bob's family was mortified by the "buffet" which consisted of a few cold pizza slices, tired egg sandwiches , sausage rolls and crisps and I felt their embarrassment acutely. Grieving people need a funeral to run smoothly and without complication and feeding mourners well, is not rocket science.
You provide good tasty food and make sure there's a lot of it.

I'm now warming to the idea of the supper in the hall thing
Here is a couple of photos of a recent wedding held at the hall....I want indoor bunting for this Year's flower Show!.....bunting would look nice at any hall meal too!
Time for the flower show committee to invest me thinks

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)