Hey ho

Not much to say today, worked last night am working tonight too

Off to bed

Dreaming of Jurassic Dreams

A Quiet Case Of Abuse

Abuse in designer middle England, the Titcheners

The slow burn storyline of the domestic abuse between upper middle-class Rob Titchener and his emotionally fragile and rather bland wife Helen is presently weaving it's way to what seems like a dramatic climax in Radio 4 's The Archers.
For nearly a year we have heard Rob chip away at Helen's self esteem, whether it be a simple comment on the suitability of her dresses for the Hunt Ball or the more moustache curling assertion to her family that she is becoming more mentally unstable before the birth of her second baby.
The pattern of abuse is well known to many at it involves isolation from family and friends and the gradual dominance of all decision making within the home and although the "pulling of wool over the eyes" of Helen's usually astute and somewhat cloying family seems a step too far down an unbelievable narrative, the storyline has been, for The Archers, somewhat of an earnest and realistic portrayal of domestic abuse.
Timothy Watson, brings a cut glass whispering menace to the damaged Rob ( recently we have met his equally soft spoken and manipulative mother Ursula so we know were he gets it from) and although the usually self righteous and whinging  Helen ( played by Louiza Patikas) is not my favourite character , her decent into silent victim has been such a boost to the soap which in recent times  has become somewhat stale.
Wisely The Archers' scriptwriters have brought back the ever chipper Kirsty ( Annabelle Dowling ) who has seen through Rob from the start. This week she has provided Helen with some practical support in the guise of a mobile phone of her own ( with credit!) , the number of an abuse charity, and most importantly the idea to discuss things with Rob's first wife, Jess, who went through all the same behaviours, and escaped, this has proved to be a valuable lifeline for the haplass Helen and in the case of the meeting of the two Mrs Titcheners, a surprisingly moving piece of radio.

I Hate Puppies

I don't love puppies.....I never have.
Sure I like them...who wouldn't? But I don't love them....
Puppies are programmed to get on your tits!
The Prof knows this and the other night asked me if I loved Mary yet.
I think he kind of knew the answer as she was curled up, under my chin.....in the position Meg always assumed towards the end of the day.
Mary has lost much of her puppy silliness. She remains over active for sure, and is still mouthing at the other  dogs and the odd cushion zip, but ever so slowly her personality has started to emerge.
She is bright and friendly with other people and other dogs and is astute enough to cuddle up to George without trying to grab his Australian bandanna. And unlike Meg there is not an ounce of bad temper in her. Mischief yes, bad temper..no.
This afternoon , I have not been feeling 100% , so sat in the warmth for a quiet  half hour.
Within minutes Mary had joined me.....and we watched the rain together, my chin resting on the top of her head.
Hey ho

Corporate Jonney!

I wanted to demolish several of the old hen houses today. The bonfire at the bottom of the field needs adding to before I set fire to it and Pat the animal helper will be donating her garden waste to the collection this afternoon. Her garden is the best in the village!
I won't have time to get dirty today
For today I am playing a " corporate husband"
The Prof is head of the Health Sciences school at the University and from time to time will have meetings where I am expected to attend.
My job, is to scrub up, smile, add an occassional witty/ intelligent remark to a conversation which is generally over my head and remember not to splash gravy down my front.

Today it's a meeting over lunch in a very nice restaurant.

I am reminded of a University " do" I was invited to way back in our Yorkshire days. It was at the University social club event which was populated by the gliterati of Sheffield academia
Like any group of like people that work together, shop talk was the order of the night, and after two hours of listening to " research talk " I was ready to batter a nun to death with a chair leg.
One Professor was exceptionally boring, and so, in between bouts of "research this"  and  " academic study that" I took the opportunity to sneak to the bar for an emergency gin and tonic.
At the bar was a sympathetic looking , rather chic lady in her sixties and I couldn't help confiding in her just how bored I felt.
" The old Prof over there is banging on like a good 'un" I ventured " he's boring the fucking tits off me"
She patted me on the arm in a supportive way
" You try being married to him...I've had to put up with it for forty years"

Yes...no gins for me today!

Anyhow, I will leave you with a tiny bit of Trelawnyd surrealism .
In the spring sunshine, I heard the dogs all trying to retrieve something from atop the garden wall when I was sat with my morning coffee
Someone had dropped off a neatly wrapped panettone without a note presumably a gift for the hens and sheep!

Mary In The Vestry

Sorrel went home this morning and the cottage reverted back to a " cottage of dogs" . I caught up with a few jobs, then penned a brief thank you to Gaynor the Mad Organist for the easter eggs she sent to The Prof and I . I planned to pop the note under the organ keys cover before I cleaned the church today.

It was a joy to be in Church as the whole place felt heavy and heady with the smell of Easter lilies. 

I took Mary with me and tied her lead to the vestry door as I hoovered and dusted and everything was strangely silent when I finished , so I sat in the semi darkness like I always do and daydreamed for a while.

I reflected about a few things in the quieness and the peace.

Things that blogs really don't need to hear about not on a sunny day

And I only got up, when I  could hear Mary happily emptying the contects of the vicar's  waste bin all over the vestry floor.,like a toddler thundering through her toy box

Mother in law stories ...p l e a s e

The Prof and his mother are in the living room watching The Lady In The Van. They have spent most of the day shopping and are now resting with cups of tea and a plate of cheese and crackers. I have made an effort and have used proper cups and saucers........and a clean sideplate
I drew a line at napkins.
I didn't fancy sitting through Maggie Smith playing Maggie Smith, so Albert and I have retired to the bedroom. I am writing my blog and he is licking his arsehole.
All is well with the world.
I have spent much of the day getting things back in order. Having a visitor for a week is lovely on a social level but things do tend to pile up housework wise if you're not careful.
I took the opportunity to clean out the goose house too, and did so wearing old trackie bottoms, gravy stained sweatshirt and crocs, before I was caught by Margaret from Erw Wen when she delivered some layers pellets.
Her expression said it all, it said "You've let yourself go" 
I felt like saying even Jennifer Aniston doesn't look good all of the time
But I didn't!

I'll make an effort tonight, we are all going to Osborn House for dinner!
Sorrel goes home tomorrow and I think she has enjoyed her stay at Bwthyn -y-Llan .....I am lucky .......I like my mother-in-law and she kinda likes me......

So on the back of my previous " mother love" blog post, I shall put this question out to my dear readers...
Please tell me if you hated your mum in law or indeed if she hated you.......
I'd love to hear any funny MIL tales!
I'll leave you with some mother in law words from Les Dawson

"I can always tell when the mother in law's coming to stay; the mice throw themselves on the traps"

The Walking Dead Spoilers

I blame the script writers of The Walking Dead , for when it suits Kirkman's narrative, they allow the characters to assue new directions of behaviour and motivation that often don't make any sense at all  to the die hard fans who have followed the series from day one.

I understand why they do it.....they have to manipulate the story into areas that only make sense in the comics.........and the  comics are more suited to teenage geeks who love the salacious...the scriptwriters forget that ........the tv series are for a more sophisticated audience! 

So in East  we have almost all of the  alpha characters outside the soon to be besieged Alexandria. 

Daryl is off on a somewhat perplexing revenge raid followed by Glen, Rosita and Michonne . The newly pacifist Carol is cornered by another ( yes another) group of Saviours and spectacularly has to  kill again ( and gets injured in the process) and Rick and Morgan leave a near defenceless hometown to go and retrieve her......

Oh and Maggie gets pregnancy pains which means ( with the timely death of the lovely Denise) that a trip to see the hilltop doctor may be in order...........and .............Daryl definately gets shot! 

The scene has therefore been clumsily set! 

All of the main characters are out! And at the mercy of the new uber villian Negan who is set to appear in the finale..........with his overblown and silly barbed wire baseball bat in hand....

What's The Best Thing Your Mother Ever Did For you?

In idle chit chat mother-in-law was recalling memories of her own Broadstairs childhood. Her mother was a full time teacher who ran a home, shopped for the week's meat on a Friday by bike and catered for a whole gaggle of relatives for the entire summer holidays as Broadstairs was the destination to visit in early postwar Britain.
Selfless motherlove that has been reenacted a million times over in a million homes

My own grandmother was famous for saving my mother and uncle during an air raid over liverpool during the war. Just before the bomb blasts brought down the ceilings and blew in the windows, she single handedly covered the children with a heavy sofa before leading them to safety wrapped in chenille curtains.
Selfless Mother Love on a grander scale.
Both as important as the other.

What is the best thing your mother ever did for you?
I'd be interested to hear.