Going Gently

No posts tomorrow

Long day in the hospital then Sams shift until 1 am

The Prof is on puppy watch/training

God help him

Hipsters

This photo selfie amused me no end yesterday.
It's a photo of two strangers who met on a flight to Scotland when they found themselves booked in adjoining seats.
Two ginger haired, bearded hipsters that could have passed for twins.
What are the chances of that?
I like the " hipster" look
I'm far too old for it...and anyway skinny pants would be a fashion faux pax in our house..what with my Beyonce arse and fat thighs.
The other morning, I mused that if I had ever followed a trend in my youth, then in hindsight I would have followed the hipster route rather than the monstrosities that I found myself wearing in the 1980s.
From 1983 I once wore a blue mottled round necked jumper continuously until 1985....and I only stopped when the bloody thing literally fell apart.
I was never blessed with any fashion sense.....my sister inherited my share.
When I ambled around Byron Street, daydreaming what it would be like having a neat, perfectly combed haircut, a sculptured beard and trendy duds, a fantasy that was broken when I spied Bethan Jones who was decorating her hallway.
We chatted about wallpaper for a bit and it was only when I walked off, did I realise that my pyjamas were sticking out from under my combat trousers and there was a load of dried egg crusting up my goatee.

My Little Girl

I know the previous blog is all about ghosts and goolies

But the photo was too cute not to blog

Ghosts

The final dogwalk of the evening is a short one.
We amble down the lane and away from the last street light in the village to the gate of Graham's field. The field is always dark, but you can clearly see the far boundary field hedges and trees set against the sky perhaps four hundred metres away.
It always reminds me of the country set of the film " Night Of The Hunter"

Last night, my teeth were set on edge , by the eerie sound of badgers fighting somewhere over in the riding stables. Their bickering upset the dogs who pulled at their leads, so I hurried them down to the field gate so they could do what they do so we could get back to the comfort of the log burner.

As the dogs sniffed and spun, I looked over the black field at the outlines of the hedges and trees set against the sky and immediately saw the silhouette of a man, standing very still .

I don't know if it was the badgers, or the fact it is almost Halloween or the fact that man was standing very still in the middle of a black field in the middle of the night but I almost crapped myself and seconds later we galloped home like a herd of schoolgirls.

The start of this clip of Night of the Hunter is one of

the most terrifying ever made......

its Mitchum's scream that makes it

So what " supernatural " ghostly experience have happened to you my readers?

I love ghost stories....especially as it is almost Halloween !

THERE WILL BE A PRIZE FOR THE BEST ONE!

( ps this morning I realise that the ghostly silhouette was probably the figure of the guy who lives part time in an old caravan on the other side of the field...he was probably out having a wee or a
Cigarette........I had forgotten about him last night.....in all the hysteria of the dark.

Pps another village ghost story can be seen on my history blog
At
http://trelawnydhistory.blogspot.co.uk/2011/06/ghost-of-john-wynne.html

Fickle

I know I am fickle but it would lovely if my follower tally finally reaches 900
Hey ho......
How OCD is that?

Little C

Ask my twin sister Janet if this was right or not

I suspect it was

Put a Broom up my arse and I'd sweep the floor

I often hear how much parents do for their children.
" Can't stop now.......little Dorcas needs taking to Ballet"
" The boys need to go to football practise and then it's after school club"
" Harry wants an ipad for his third birthday"
It goes on and on and if I was a parent , I guess I'd be saying exactly the same thing.

This morning at 5 am I was standing in the garden in my pyjamas encouraging Mary to have a big wee and when she eventually did the deed, I ran around the lawn excitedly calling out " good girl" like a loon.

At 11 am I was bathing William with expensive hypoallergenic shampoo in a hot bath and at 1pm I was rubbing vaseline on a hen's sore arse at the same time as holding a conversation with a villager about the pros and cons of Downton Abbey.

At 8.15 am, I removed all of the dogs except Winnie to the kitchen and went back to bed where she and I spooned for a half hour lie in..........this daily intensive 30 minute pampering has now brought her round from her mental disintegration following Mary's arrival.