On a lighter note

Strictly is back

Anita is a lucky bitch

Children Remember Everything

Children remember everything.

The boy was around eleven . His father never took him out on a one to one basis.
He was just too busy.
It was just not done.
The boy was happy enough for he was part of a big family.

One weekend the boy's mother told the boy that his father would take him out on a nature walk together.
The boy loved wildlife and was quietly excited.
So after lunch they drove into the country and parked in front of a large private house set before it's own small wood.
They got out of the car and the father told the boy to enjoy his walk around the wood, he wouldn't be long as he needed to talk about some business in the house.
The boy took himself back to the car after a short lonely walk.
He sat there in silence for a good half hour before his father returned and they drove home.

Children remember everything that hurt.

Mary Berry Rallies

Carole from Georgia emailed me today and wanted to know how the poorly, bald bummed hen was doing...the one I had wrapped up on the draining board a week back.
Well here she is .....
Looking a little untidy but bright as a button!
And no more wounds!.....she even laid an egg a few days ago

A Friend To Sociability

The view just North of the Village This Morning

 Without having a shop or a post office now, the only true friend to sociability in daytime Trelawnyd is good weather.
During the hours of 8 to 5 the population drops significantly. The twenty or so sullen teens in their skinny legged pants and floppy hair have all been transported to the comprehensives down hill and the working population have driven away in all directions to earn a crust.
Only the retired, semi retired and very young are left.....the population of the village during the day may number around 100.
When it is cold and wet, I will see no one, save for neighbours passing or village elder Islwyn out in his fluorescent jacket .
On a bright air filled day like today, I shall see many Trelawnyd-ites.....
Sunshine lightens the soul and gets people moving.
Conversations in general are perfunctory and polite.
Pippa wanted eggs and agreed that Singapore airport was great for shopping
John Corrigan was congratulated on his show of nasturtiums
And Olwen regaled a short tale of a slight fall out with a neighbour.
Like I said nothing of great significance.
The man from Well cottage came out to make a fuss of Winnifred but she was having non of it
 and I spied Gay Gordon and Big Mary off shopping in a taxi. Big Mary dresses like I do, she always looks as though someone has thrown her clothes at her from a great distance
It's called " The wreck of the Hesperus" look.
I tried to find farmer Basil on our walk as I want to get his hedge cutter to do the field hedges, but I couldn't catch him but I did get a glimpse of Mrs Trellis with blue trotting gently by her side....
Back home satisfied that I have at least spoken to another human being, I've made meatballs and tomato sauce from scratch and a large wartime pan of carrot and coriander soup.
The last remaining apple tree of the old orchard is heavy with apples so I shall strew some later..The Prof loves stewed apple.

The grass needs cutting, I haven't made the bed yet and after a most strenuous bout of bulldog masturbation on the lounge carpet.
I need to give the rug a sponge down with a soapy cloth.........

Dirty girl

Bake Off ( spoilers)

I love the fact that the front runners in " Bake Off" are the former underdogs
With Paul fucking up his French cakes
Nadiya ( she of the strange expressions) and Tamal ( seriously cute medic) are now set up for the final with the rather bland Ian and sweet but ( yawn) Flora as back up....
I'm loving this series

Tits or was it Boobs?

I think I said " tits" instead of boobs
OMG
I can't be sure.......but I think I did
" Tits" is something that shouldn't be uttered in genteel company...it's rather common
" Boobs" is much more wholesome

I've just given my talk on blogging to twenty five members of the " Clwyd NHS Retirement Fellowship" and when reading my blog entry about nursing a spinal injury patient with input of a collegue's phenomenal bosom
http://disasterfilm.blogspot.co.uk/2012/10/leaps-of-faith.html
I am sure I forgot to substitute tits for boobs....
No wonder one stony faced audience member gave me the dead eye!
I think she was expecting a Jane Asher-esque chat about a city nurse making jam in a small welsh village
Oh Dear.....
I read out several nursing based blog entries from years gone by and discussed blogging in general
And of course I suggested that the blog virgins in the audience give Weaver, Yorkshire Pudding, Rachel, etc etc a try...........I even mentioned to the tougher members around the table that they give Tom Stephenson a go, but suggested that they have a small sherry first...

For a three quarters of an hour talk, they presented me with 25£ which I blew on the way home
What did I treat myself to, I hear you ask?
I went to Sainsbury's and bought The Prof a set of new headphones, a warm throw which was reduced in the sale and a pedestal toilet mat!
How exciting!

Three Weeks To Go

George & Irene

Irene and the slightly more shy Sylvia

I wish, sometimes, that I had an iphone.
Its much easier to take photos with an iphone.
This morning was a case in point.
I had taken the dogs over to the field with a bucket of soapy hot water for a bottom washing.
After years of experience, it's the cleanest place to do it.
I gave George his scrub first, because William and Winnie enjoy theirs much more than he does, and had just let go of him when , in an uncharacteristic bout of excitement , he galloped off through the grass towards the sheep.
Now, Irene and Sylvia have nothing to do with the dogs in general . They will occasionally stamp their hooves in bad temper if approached too closely, but that's as far as their contact goes, so I was slightly gob smacked when George ran right up to Irene, barked loudly in her face then dashed off squeaking with the ewe in close pursuit.
It wasn't an angry chase...but a sudden, unexpected and rather joyful one, with the old Scottie scooting through the grass in large circles and the serious faced ewe prancing stiff legged just behind
I stood there, with a soapy cloth in one hand and with William's tail lifted up all ready in the other and watched as the pair galloped up and down like two schoolboys on a football pitch

It was the sweetest, most celebratory thing I have seen in an age