Trellis

Apparently Christmas shopping has been made easier by the internet.
I agree.
Mind you, most companies now demand a signature when your on line goodies are delivered and the " window" of when the courier actually arrives can be vague.
Today that window for delivery ranges from 08.00 am to 18.00 pm, so I effectively marooned at home.
Thats fine....for I have been cottage cleaning with a vengeance.
Around 2pm I heard a card plop through the letter box. It was from Mrs Trellis and it was accompanied by two of her poems, one for me and one for the Prof

It tickled me that like so many interesting characters

Such as

Banksey, Madonna, Cher, Bono, Adele,

Twiggy

Mrs Trellis is now signing herself as just plain

" Trellis" 

Ding Dong

Gaynor , the mad organist

Around 50 of the village die hards braved the weather to come to the Church carol concert 

The service was taken by members of the congregation

which I thought was a nice touch.

(For your information the vicar is still recuperating from having a new set of plastic hips) 

Animal helper Pat, old Trevor, Mrs Trellis, old Flower Show jam winner Barbara Parry, Trendy Carol,

Daphne and Frank, only Aunie Glad was absent, she's on holiday in Llandudno.

A mince pie and a polystyrene cup of mulled wine was very welcome afterwards

Fending For Oneself

Lunch

Supper

Postscript

The cottage living room is at it's best in low lighting 

The fire is lit, as are the candles.

The Archers is on the radio.

Winnie is asleep and snoring on the hearth rug.

William and George are on the couch.

Peaceful?

Hell no......

Mary and Albert are wrestling under our bed and by the yapping levels

Albert is winning

Time for a gin and tonic

Getting in The Mood

I wasn't feeling rather festive yesterday.
Today I've pulled myself up by the bra straps and have got into the mood. I drove to the Welsh Food Shop at Bodnant and used some almost out of date vouchers to purchase some goodies for Christmas day. Bodnant Food Shop , like most bespoke country outlets can be reassuringly expensive and I was amused to see two middle aged ladies ( who probably always shopped at Asda) picking at the shelves with shocked looks on the faces....
When they were perusing the preserve section, even the check out lady stifled a laugh when around the hushed tones of the shop one of  the women sang out to her friend " BLOODY HELL ANGELA , LOOK AT THIS !!! FIVE POUNDS FOR A SODDIN' JAR OF RASPBERRY JAM !"

When I got home, I popped into the church and dropped off mad Gaynor's Christmas hat and Card ( inside her Organ) then went to the post office to get a load of stamps. I was even Christmasy enough not to get too angry at a spoilt child at the till, who was playing up behind her grandmother's back.....but I did allow myself a very theatrical " BEHAVE YOURSELF AND SHUT UP"  comment when I passed them........
That made me chuckle at myself all the way down high street!

The Prof is away in Kent .....this afternoon I will be digging out the Christmas decs after I have wrapped my offering to work's " secret Santa" offering.....
The nurse , I am buying for loves a nice proscecco and has a new puppy......

The bottle is hidden away behind these little fellas

Being Scared

.

We are all frightened by something.
Heights, spiders, things that go bump in the night.
My phobias are all pretty mundane.
But after listening to a sobering radio programme about the cost of social care, I think I want to add one more thing to the list, and that is the thought of becoming chronically ill enough to need nursing home care.
Of course, I'm a long way off such a sad time but the present day number crunching is terribly unfair...presently in the UK if you have something like 22 grand or below in the bank, your local authority will pay around 400 £ a week towards your nursing home care.
If you have assets more than 22 thousand then you will have to pay the fees yourself....and those fees are generally at least 400 £ a month more  than the original £1600 ....
The privately paying patients therefore supplement the council funded places.
Its a crazy system ..absolutely unfair and crazy......and with an ageing and physically more needy population....I can only see the system getting more battered and fragmented

I've said it before and I'll say it again .....come the time Shady Pines beckons, I'm off on the ice flows in a skimpy T shirt

To combat this depressing post , I shall leave you with this facebook photo posted by one of the ladies of the village......her puppy Podrick meeting Mary in the lane.
Note Mary has her Jamie Lee Curtis pink body stocking harness on

Ho, Fucking Ho!

I was designated driver tonight.

This was taken when I was waiting to pick the Prof and my sister up from the 

Train station, ( They had spent the afternoon and evening in a Manchester theatre and Harvey Nick's wine bar)

I thought I would cheer myself up with Gaynor ( the mad organist's) hat!

Taking The Power Away

In the sweet natured and generally wholesome world of internet blogging lies a rare and somewhat strange character of the blog troll.
Blog trolls, as far as I can make out, fall into two broad groups.
They are either
The severely mentally ill or trouble making loners who get fixated on a particular topic or blogger with varying degrees of anonymous and often abusive contact.
The first group should be pitied and helped as the internet can be a frighteningly vast breeding ground for delusion and unreality but it is the second group that net areas such as blogger needs to be more robust with, for, like mischievous sad children, they can wreck anything from mild irritation to severe distress , to the victims of their faceless rants and comments.
Of course like anyone who gets their kicks from trouble making, it is vital to be able to put your finger on their Achilles' heel. This is easier to do when the interaction is face to face, so to speak, but it's not impossible. You just have to be clever.
A while ago, I was one of many people who were on the receiving end of an abusive phone caller.
After several graphic and sometimes upsetting interactions, I asked the caller in a very calm way, just why they had called and amid the following abuse suddenly realised that it was the ending of the call that was the hub of the abuser's motivation. When I ended the phone call on my terms, I removed the abuser's power and broke the satisfaction of their fantasy.
Recently, I was fortunate to have a conversation with a retired psychologist.
I asked her about trolls ( it was at the time of the whole twitter troll thing.) and her thoughts were interestingly just common sense.
She said
Report them to the powers that be ( including the police if the contact is abusive and/or threatening.
Delete their input quietly and without fuss...failing that ignore em totally.
If you do feel that a reply is necessary , just tell them a simple " I am bored by what you write"