Fucking Pussy Willow

Only yesterday I was thinking that I was overdue for a fall.
I was accompanying affable despot Jason to Peter V's funeral and marvelled that I negotiated the Church steps and pews without actually bumping into something. It's a rarity that I accomplish any outing without some sort of mishap.
The Church was busy and full of people which was lovely for the family, but the vicar, an elderly lady who looked as though she had never laughed in her life, refused to breathe any injection of spirit into the service, which was a shame. Subdued by the atmosphere Jason and I giggled like schoolboys on the way home as we swapped ideas for an " interesting" send off. He , being a fan of Jack the Ripper ( !) thought a " street urchin " theme would be suitable with begger boys at the church door and Auntie Gladys dressed up as the old tart Catherine Widdows .
I preferred a more mysterious affair with an impeccably dressed woman with an opaque veil sat alone on a back pew, holding a single red rose.
Anyhow I digress.
As I told you that I thought I was overdue for a tumble ...and today I had one ....and I blame the Gaynor The Mad Organist for it.
She had made it known to the Prof that she needed some pussy Willow and obviously hinted to him that I was the girl to get it for her. This morning, on the Gop paths, I went off piste  to search for some  and caught the back of my trackie bottoms on a particularly robust bramble branch.
As my underpants " twanged" , I lost my footing and bounced merrily perhaps five feet down a bank loosing a shoe and pulling one entire leg out of my trackie bottoms.
Not only did I bruise my dignity, but I thought I had indeed ruptured myself and so limped home for a hot bath and a body inspection.

The Walking Dead

Carol kisses Tobin

Yay!

Funeral Day

I was up early as I needed to pick William up from the kennels. A mix up with her inoculation dates meant that Mary couldn't board with him for the weekend so she went to "trendy Carol's"house for the duration. Winnie as usual lived the life of Reilly with my bulldog loving friend Norma whilst George bed and breakfasted at my sister's home.
Going away together often takes some organising.
I arrived at the kennels well before opening time and as I waited I walked up to their security fencing to peruse the dogs. I spotted William instantly for he was laying in the lap of one of the kennel girls who was sat on the floor holding him like a baby. She looked as though she was talking to him as she rocked him back and forth.
I was intrigued and asked the girl who was in her teens what was going on when she brought him trotting back to reception.
" some dogs just don't rest when they are here" she explained seriously, " I'm told which ones they are and it's my job to mother them for a bit"
Monday felt just a bit sweeter for her words.

It's Peter V's funeral at lunchtime ( he of the monster ,Flower Show winning fuchsia,) It's in the next village of Caerwys and I am going with the affable despot Jason. Peter's partner ,Trelawnyd Val, has asked us all to dress in bright colours and so I have dug out a summer shirt(  covered in sailing boats) and have donned my pea green trousers..... I look like a friggin American tourist for god's sake
I hear there's a large number of Trelawnyd-ites going.
Peter was well liked.

It's sunny today, funerals need sun, often it's the only warmth available to the grieving I always think.
So before I leave I shall take Winnie and Mary and George out for their walk.
William I Will leave in the warmth of the bedroom window ledge.
He is fast asleep and won't be moved.
He is home.

Boobs On My Head

I was a bit nervous " doing the spa thing"
as I am not entirely comfortable with strangers getting their hands on me, so it was with a little trepidation I slipped myself into my white fluffy robe and donned my disposable mule slippers.
The Prof went into the first treatment room with a burly Eastern European masseuse called Magda for his full body and I tottered into the second treatment room with Lucy who had a voice like chocolate. I was a little nervous at first  but the whispering Lucy made me feel totally at ease what with the relaxing music, smells and dim lighting and as I lay on the heated couch like jabba the hutt with my head in a hole, she flitted around me like a silent massaging Ninja .
I had the shoulder and back treatment followed by an intensive facial. Lucy thought an intensive  and hydrating facial was the order of the day ( probably because I have the soap and water complexion of a man who has never cared for his skin in 53 years)
For an hour she put various potions  on my face rubbed them in , and smoothed them off before rubbing in another then another.....it was lovely......and I was truly relaxed , truly ! Well until she worked on a particularly stubborn knot on my back and her boobs bashed me on the head a couple of times.
I almost succumbed to an attack of the giggles then but didn't for I could tell Lucy was a real professional and would not have approved of schoolboy humour!
Anyhow the whole experience was quite special and exceedingly well done. I loved it.

We mooched around the spa pool, steam room and jacuzzi like a couple of Joan Collins lookalikes, drank some wine in the beautiful upstairs sitting room of the Hall itself then went out for dinner with friends and family.
I do so love to be pampered .......the porter even ironed our shirts for us before we went out!
Now that's good service!

Bodysgallen

Today we are off for a day at a spa and a night away!
It's at the country hotel we stayed at on the evening of our wedding.
The Prof is having a full body massage while I am having my head and shoulders done.
( I fear a flatulent attack if I had someone relaxing my lower half) we then will float around the pool and steam room ( The Prof with his  Hello magazine and me with my Walking Dead Monthly hidden inside a National Geographical )
This evening we will meet some friends  and family for a meal at Osborne House in Llandudno.....it's all going to be absolutely fabulous darlings! Then its back to Bodysgallen Hall for a dog free sleep in a four poster bed!
How bloody lush is that?
This anniversary thing is a good thing...
Now come on and leave a good wish message.....I never have many quotes on a Saturday
Hey ho

Sulk

This afternoon......I am forgiven  

Last night frustration coupled with one of the worst rainstorms I have ever experienced resulted in a diva - sized strop of gigantic proportions.
The sulking lasted many, many hours.
It all started when I needed to leave the house around 9pm. The Prof had gone to bed and the dogs all needed a final wee before bedtime, so I leaded them all up and took them out in the rain.
Now old dogs hate icy wet conditions and after several minutes it was very clear that not one was going to have even a 'crafty one' along the lane and so drenched to the skin and frustrated that I wouldn't be back home until the small hours of the morning to walk them again, I lost my temper and gave the whole pack a good yelling at.
Now for those that don't know, you can shout at a terrier and although they will initially be upset  they will generally forget the slight minutes after it has been given. Bulldogs however , do not cope at all with any form of chastisement.
Like elephants, they never forget.
I bundled the pack into the kitchen, hoping against all hope that there would be no puddles on the floor by the time I got home and four hours later I returned to a chorus of happy barks and smiling faces.
Only Winnie wasn't amongst them.
When slighted Bulldogs will sulk for the longest of times  and Winnie, I must say, can sulk for Britain.
I found her in the living room, standing with her face to the wall. She refused to acknowledge my presence in any way.
I apologised for shouting at her and gave her a pat on the head , and all she did was to turn her face slowly in the opposite direction.
I knelt on the floor and tried to kiss her, and she blinked her eyes ever so slowly and snorted like a pony. She turned again presenting me a fat blank arse.
At one o'clock in the morning I didn't need the drama.
I took the other dogs out , cleaned up the kitchen floor and returned to the living room with a cup of coffee and a piece of toast
Winnie hadn't moved .
So, I put on some shit tv and started to eat my toast.
Winnie remained still but I could see her nostrils twitching so I ate everything but the crust and placed the remains onto the floor.
Still she didn't move.
She was good, real good I thought.
I slipped the plate with the crusts on it under her nose and went back to my tv watching. It did the trick, for seconds later the plate was empty.
" Are you going to forgive me now ?" I asked her as I knelt again onto the floor and for the first time I was fixed in the big brown eyed glaze of an elderly bulldog.
She obviously  thought about what I said for a moment or so,
And snorted her loud bull like snort, before turning and walking off to her nightime armchair.
She didn't look back , even the once.

Double Entendres

We have a rather vital neighbour called Mandy who can be seen marching around the village on various chores and errands several times during the day. She is always cheerful and never still, even in the worst of weather.
I saw her during one of her jaunts this afternoon and rather breathlessly she called out a greeting followed by a somewhat interesting observation

" We heard young Mary bashing the hell out of your catflap the other night!"

She stopped short , caught up in the possibilities of double entendre and we both giggled like schoolgirls. Thank goodness for dirty minds.....
Years ago I was in Sainsbury's in a hurry. I couldn't find what I was looking for and in a somewhat exasperated tone called out to one of the male supervisors " I CAN'T find your dumplings !"  Again I received a load of giggles in reply .
I love surreal little moments like these.

This morning was another case in point, I went to Morrisons this morning to use their car vacume cleaner and got all excited that there was an attachment that dispensed a " fragrance" liquid spray for an extra £1 coin....Not being " au fait" with the equipment , I put in my pound , picked up the gun and promptly sprayed myself in the face with it. Now two Eastern European looking men who were watching me from a nearby path promptly burst out laughing causing me to blush like a schoolgirl, but at least I had the good grace to laugh with them.

The best double entendre is always an unintentional one.......Years ago, I remember Look North news anchor Clair Frisby commenting on a report from a bonfire night celebration somewhere in Yorkshire.....she said
"There's nothing like a big hot sausage inside you on a cold night like this"

Hey ho

The Car Man

We went to see a cinematic version of Mathew Bourne's 

The Car Man this evening

Unfortunately the Projector was malfuctioning and the focus was out, so we left early

Pity!