An Incident Free Day

Today was going to be an incident free day.
I am still full of aches and pains following my unfortunate tumble " Pussy Willow Hunting" and yesterday I spent a dreary 5 hours cleaning the cottage carpets with an industrial sized carpet cleaner which gave me a whole set of new aches and pains to cope with.
I am thinking of writing to the Governor of the New Wrexham super prison with the suggestion that his prisioners should indulge in some old lady carpet cleaning duties as part of their punishment for it is soul destroying and back breaking work.
Anyhow , as usual, I digress.
Like I said , today was going to be an incident free day. I was toying up whether to have a sneaky trip to the cinema or to clear the back garden of it's winter crap.
Against my better judgement the garden won.
And so before that could happen, I strode out with Mary for our two mile morning constitutional.

Now it's a little known fact that occasionally I suffer from what is blanketly termed irritable bowel syndrome. I don't really mention it much. There is enough shit talk on Going Gently at the best of times, suffice to say when I need to go! I gotta go! 

I was at the furthest point away from home when I had the urge shall we say and knowing that only so much buttock clenching would be effective short term , I weighed up my options.
There were none, well none other than to jump the nearest gate and disappear behind a hedgerow, so I am ashamed to say that in Farmer Basil's field on top of the Gop I picked a suitable sunny spot to "contemplate things"

Big mistake.

In seconds what seemed like 200 ewes appeared from nowhere. I was metres from their feeding troughs and when one gets the idea food is being deposited , they all get into the act so within moments of fumbling with my elasticated waistband ,a near hysterical Mary and I were faced with hundreds of eager faces all expecting dinner.
I might as well waved a union Jack over my head to let any passing motorist or indeed Basil down on his farm where I was and what I was doing.

I'm 53 for Christsake, I should be acting as a grown up!

Life Lesson No 2

A good scotch egg, is an entire meal in itself

Nothing else is required.

Tis bliss finger food! 

If You're Reading This I'm Asleep

To appreciate this blog entry you need to know our early morning sleeping arrangements! ( oohh err)

The Prof is an early riser.

I hate early mornings.

He is up around 5-5.30am, I am clinically unconscious at that time. 

However , it is up to me to drag myself out of bed to walk the dogs down the lane. I don't mind the job and will never complain about it, come rain or snow or whatever, we wander into the dark, have pees and poos then we all return to bed for another blissful sleep. 

It is then I don my eye patch! I don't apologise for the fact. With the Prof pottering for a hour before his commute, my eye patch gets me back to sleep as effectively as a double gin and tonic.

I usually wake up naturally around 8 am .

Today it was 5 to 9!!!!!!! ..............so I hurled myself out of bed, got dressed in a fashion and dashed out to let the hens and the geese out of their houses. I filled the lurid purple paddling pool with water, fed the ewes and filled the hen feeders with layers pellets before hiding them under the main hen house to protect them from the rain. 

I took Mary for a wee walk, waved at a couple of mums bringing their kids in late for school and gave  Graham the sheep farmer the thumbs up as he drove past to feed his pregnant ewes. 

I made breakfast, and coffee and answered a passing woman's request for eggs with a cheerful apology before sitting down with Mary to read the news.

Only then did I realise that perched on the top of my head was my bleeding eye patch!

Life Lesson no 1

Bulldogs brighten your life

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!