Coal Men Kisses and Mrs Frazer 's Eggs

Kissed and coal dusted this morning

Already this morning I have had three knocks on the kitchen window.
Two were from people wanting eggs, one was from the coal men.
The coal men wouldn't come down the path until I had reassured them that Winnie was not dangerous.
I told both men that she wanted them to kiss her, and as she blew mew-mew lips at them as she stood against the wall both men dutifully bent down and kissed her. She is now covered in coal dust.
Anyhow I digress.
The big news of the morning is that the new hens are now laying well. After a bit of Miss Marple sleuthing I tracked one particulary large grey hen to one of the old delapitated hen houses in the centre of the field and there found 36 eggs! So I am now pleased that I can now start selling the occassional box to the villagers again.
After making Bubble & Squeek, I boxed half a dozen up ready for Mrs Frazer to buy, she has been after my eggs for an age now.
Mrs Frazer is another of my favourite village characters, for she is the nearest we have to a lady of the manor. I say this with some affection, as she doesn't have any airs and graces , but her slightly gung ho! "Spirit that won the war" attitude to things always reminds me of the Marie Lohr character in the movie Went The Day Well ....(she was the lady of the village who sacrificed herself by throwing herself on a grenade when those evil Germans tried to kill the village school children of Bramley End.)
Mrs Frazer lives in the large rectory in the village. She is well read and educated and loves to stop for a chat when out for a walk with her dogs. She seems equally comfortable with a glass of champagne in one silk gloved hand and a loo brush in a rubber gloved other!
This kind of lady reminds me of the tupperware loving Queen on a Balmoral picnic.
They are a rare breed
Mrs Frazer , is strident and opinionated and calls a spade a spade. She also will keep you talking for the longest of times, puncuating conversations with a laugh that can be heard three streets away.
On her walks, if all, of our neighbours are out gardening in a row down the lane , then the laughter and chatter will continue for an hour or so all told.

Mrs Frazer of Trelawnyd

Sunday Service

Let's change the subject

Ok, distance shots for sure , but if you look  closely you can just about get the gist! The Prof is leading the procession to the ancient 13th Century prayer cross in the ChurchYard ( in the natty red)

You can easily make out the Bishop, for he has the old fashioned rotund look of Hattie Jacques- he looks like a galleon in full sail.
( you can also make out the deminuative Auntie Gladys second from the right)

Rewards

Sunday jobs for me, finish at around 1pm. The Prof has breakfast in bed, the dogs now have two walks ( a long march for Mary) and a shorted more sedate amble for the old guys. The field animals are fed, the Wreck of the Hesperus which is the kitchen is cleaned , the bed is made and the hoover is trundled out......then lunch is prepared.
Then I sit and read with a coffee.
This is my reward.
We all run on rewards me thinks
And I am getting better at the reward thing......not always using food as thanks for a job well completed.

Now my mother's reward when finishing the jobs of the day was gin. This never worked too well when her rewards were awarded a little too early in an afternoon.
That meant tea time was a sombre and rather quiet affair with mother asleep on the couch.

I think it's the order of the vintage crockery upon the gingam tablecloth on the side that made me recall this somewhat melancholy memory, a little stab of a sharp knife on an otherwise bright and light spring day.
Funny what you remember isnt it?

The Bishop Comes To Town ( and other stories)

The Bishop out for a quiet walk in his gardening clothes

The village church has a big gig on tomorrow- the Bishop is comming!
The Prof is over there right now having a rehearsal with the vicar, he will be wearing his glittery cassock for the occassion ( The Prof that is) The vicar, I am sure will be in his best Shirley Bassey number.
The village Church going ladies are all over there too, titivating the greenery on the altar and giddy with excitement and you will glad to know that Gaynor, the mad organist has finally obtained a large bunch of pussy willow for her Prize winning display.
I do hope the Bishop notices.

Gaynor's Pussy ( Willow)

I am feeling rather satisfied today, that's because we have just been out for a very nice lunch at Bryn Williams' at Porth Eirias. North Wales has very few classy " urban feeling"eating places and this restaurant which overlooks the sea at Colwyn Bay has a nice and lively vibe about it.
If I was honest, I do occasionally miss a slightly "on-trend" and busy city eatery.

I am also,satisfied  because I have just enjoyed a podcast of the radio 4 interview show  Chain Reaction which featured Victoria Coren-Mitchell interviewing Sandi Toksvig. It was a pure delight, as both women are fantastically funny, warm and articulate human beings......if you get a chance to listen to this programme, do so, it will make you smile.......broadly.......well it made me chuckle....mind you, I was giving the toilet bowl a rather brusque seeing to with the bog brush at the time.

Talented and funny Coren- Mitchell & Toksvig

It's now 4pm and the Prof is still practising his Bishop curtsy , so I shall light the fire and enjoy the silence of the cottage before taking a feather duster to ourexpensive antiques!
Having said this, Mary is busy kicking fuck out of the kitchen catflap for some unknown reason so I shall have to drag myself out of this armchair to rescue it .

There's no peace for a terrier owner

Hey ho

Easter Shit!

Easter Shit from Sainsbury's

We've gone all American at Easter all of a sudden.
When I was a boy, British Easters,used to mean cheap Easter eggs from the supermarket, shit tv and sombre church services
Now it's all friggin Easter Bunny, egg hunts , pastel colours and a big leg of lamb with the family.
My mother- in- law arrives next week, and on Easter Sunday, I will arrange for her an Easter chick and bunny hunt ..........
I bought the above monstrosities for her this afternoon!
I'm 53!, she's 70 .....hey ho

Maintaining Friendships

You can learn a great deal about the trails and tribulations of being a good human when you examine  animal behaviour.
Being a good friend to someone is a case in point.
Yesterday, after a rather disasterous morning, I took myself off to bed in a sunny warm bedroom with only Winnie for company.
I was just in that comfortable twilight world of doze when I heard the gentle " thud, thud thud" of cat paws on floorboards. Moments later Albert landed onto of the duvet and sidelining me, he moved directly infront of his " best friend" where her flopped playfully onto his back.
This happens everyday.
Albert's affection for the old bulldog is clearly evident. There is not a scrap of anthropomorphism in the observation. He rubs his face over hers, grasps her cheeks with sheathed paws and purrs a deep rumbling purr when she eventually opens her eyes and acknowledges his presence
This slightly one sided physicality,  reinforces the two animals' relationship. It's a concrete "hello" between pride members where both parties obtain  a certain warmth and happiness.
I wish I could bottle the sweetness of it all.

This lurve fest carried on for say twenty minutes or so, and only finished when Winnie fell asleep with Albert's paw resting gently on the fat folds of her face. And before I fell asleep I reminded myself to organise a trip to Sheffield to see my friends Mike, Jane, Kathryn and John.
I am long overdue to rub heads with some old friends,
thanks to Albert , I am reminded that pack ties need to be reinforced by a little bit of effort and just not good intentions ...
Hey ho

Best Laid Plans

• Last night The Prof was working away.....I was rostered to work nights.....best laid plans
• I planned to take some holiday time owed to me and leave work around 6 am so that I could get home a little earlier to walk the bladder busted dogs......best laid plans.
• My emergency patient was admitted at 5.00 am which necessitated in me staying........best laid plans
• I didn't leavework until well after 8.30 and remember that I had left three goose eggs on the kitchen table last night.....best laid plans
• The kitchen floor looked like a cross between a badly kept farmyard and an explosion in a goose egg factory when I got home...............best laid plans
• I had a small weep then took the dogs out for a walk, I then took them into the field where I tied them to the gate and went to let the animals out. ........best laid plans
• Suddenly the ewes thundered past me with a determined and very excited Mary galloping right at their heels.........FUCKING BEST LAID PLANS EH?
• Eventually with  help from the neighbours , goo goo eyed Welsh terrier bitch was caught and hyperventilating ewes left to calm down.......fed dogs, fed cat,.....burnt toast when making mushrooms on toast.....BLP!
• Went to bed at 9.30 
• Phone woke me up 11.30........I was told I wasn't needed on  a Samaritan publicity meeting on a local railway station at 13.00 ( many suicides occur on local railway stations) ...best laid plans!!!!!!! Whooooohoooooo!
• I could really do with a scotch egg.......but of course I forgot to buy one.......yes....you've guessed it
• Best.......... laid ...........plans
• 
  Sylvia and Irene.......post attack.....
  
  
  
  

Unsung Hero

The street lights in our lane are not working...I kind of like the pitch black nature of it all.
Tonight I got home around 10.15 pm and as I shuffled my way down our path a very shadowy figure walked almost silently past the cottage.
It was Islwyn , the village elder and even in the darkness, I could make he was exhausted.
We chatted for a while.
In his mid sixties, Islwyn is presently looking after a very aged, sick and frail mother, and is doing so with all of the dedication of Mother Theresa .
Mother Theresa with a Welsh accent and beanie hat!
He's on call 24/7 and works without much sleep and for very little praise.
This has been going on for months
I asked him if he was ok and if he was coping, and typically he didn't complain about his lot.
" I was a thug when I was young," he said without any edge to his voice " She[ his mother] had alot to deal with years ago....." He left the rest of his sentence unfinished before bidding me goodnight

.....he is paying back a mother's love I thought......