Jamming My Head Through The Conservatory Window

• The hot and humid weather is proving somewhat troublesome for some. After Church on Sunday Trendy Carol ( dressed in a flattering floaty trouser ensemble) stopped by to ask if I could check on neighbour T, who had suffered a "bit of a do" on one of the back pews and who had taken his way back home. I immediately popped down and worryingly got no answer when I knocked on the door. Seeing the conservatory window ajar, I managed to climb up onto a wall and jammed my head through the gap and proceeded to call my neighbour's name and shouted to see if he was ok. Getting no answer and all very hot and very sweaty I circled the bungalow trying to force open windows and doors. It was a good job that my burglary skills are pretty shit as I found out soon later that neighbour T had been enjoying a large roast lunch at The Crown!
• The Flower Show meeting went smoothly on Monday. Matriarch Irene has agreed to take over Auntie Glad's stall and after last year's initiative of sandwich making went somewhat flat the committee will stick to selling homemade cakes as refreshments. 
• Can all cup winners return their engraved cups asap thank you!
• Apologies to the blog fan who knocked on the window yesterday with her somewhat colourful daughter and her boyfriend in tow! I should have offered you all a cup of tea, but I was frying meatballs at the time....it was nice to meet you.- apologies again for Winnie's lascivious behaviours and  forgive me but I never asked your name...please comment if you read this so I know who you are! 
• Thanks for the latest novelty veg photo! Zombie potato!  ( jgsheffield@hotmail.com)

It's so humid today..I am presently lying on the chaise longue wafting myself with a limp bit of lettuce 

A Simple Lesson In Mental Illness

Yesterday I was almost drawn into a debate about the punishment of terrorists and counter terrorists here in the British Isles.
I pulled back from the argument, worried at the way the conversation was heading.
Words like monsters and evil and capital punishment were being thrown about into the mix with descriptions like mad and bad and at times like these, where emotions are understandably high, we need to take a deep breath in order to separate the wheat from the chaff.
Secreted within the fundamentalists, the misguided and the angry will be the mentally ill. Terrorist plots, the fear of attack and the conspiracy theories that will no doubt accompany them are like nectar to bees when it comes to people suffering from psychotic delusions. The madness of the acts attracts true madness like a magnet.
Someone who is acutely mentally ill and who is  sectionable under the mental health act ( for being a danger to themselves or to others) is not in control of their faculties, plain and simple
They are unable to make informed decisions and therefore cannot be held responsible for their actions.
These people need medical and nursing care, and not punishment . In severe cases secure care may well be for life.
Now it can be argued that all terrorists that maim and kill and destroy seemingly without a second glance must be mad in someway and I have no easy answer to this, suffice to say there has always been a fine line between evil and psychopathic behaviour and psychosis. One can be termed bad, and can be punished the other may be called mad and needs treatment. The definitions are always blurred by emotion.
I don't know if any of the recent terror attacks were actually committed by someone Suffering from mental illness.
But what I do know, and what I am passionate about, is the fact that if any of them are psychotic and sectionable under the Mental Heath Act, then people should realise that they are not in control of their actions.

A Frozen Lobster on Your nipples.

The Prof broke a tooth on a maverick hors d'oeuvre and has retired to bed after emergency dental work. I took the dogs out in the relative cool of the evening. It's been so hot today Winnie has laid down in the shade of the garden buddleia with a tea towel covered Aldi frozen half lobster placed under her nipples.

Bulldogs don't do heat! 

We bumped into affable despot Claire in the street. She had just seen very small girl running through the village clutching a teddy bear, and had gone out, in her comfy pants to investigate . The girl  was no where to be seen, which prompted a " ghost girl " sort of conversation 

We've all agreed that we had experienced far too sun today. 

Love a duck

It's hot again today, almost too hot to sleep after night shift.

There is a Flower Show meeting at 2pm

I will leave you with two more entries to the novelty veg/fruit competition 

Green Peacock and Out for a duck

Send entries to jgsheffield@hotmail.com

Gravestone

Apart from Auntie Glad's house and a few cottages on Bonc Terrace, our cottage is one of the oldest around .  It was originally built in 1674 then rebuilt, presumably after it was delerict in 1864
I tell you this by way of local colour.
On my travels throug the old graveyard, I have got know several of the old gravestones andone in particular has always caught my eye.  This morning I took several sheets of kitchen roll and a watering can of water and cleaned it off. I couldn't readit all but this is what I found

Here Lies John Norman of Axton ( a hamlet East of Trelawnyd)

The mines in this country were much wrought in his time.

He was an adventurer therein also

For sometime a superintendent for the government for smelting 

Down lead in Trelogan Hall and for coalmining in Bagillt 

Also in memory of George, his son,  of the East India Company

Who drowned off the coast of Sumatra in 1746

How wonderful to be described as an " adventurer"! 

I wonder what my gravestone will say?

There Is Nothing Like An Old Dame

finally my favourite actress of all time has been awarded an award by the Queen at the ripe old age of 101
Better Late Than Never

The Funny Side of Resus

There were about twenty people in the village Hall when I arrived for defib training last night. There were two teachers from the school, curly haired Maureen representing the Friendship Group, Mrs Trellis waving the flag for the church and a bloke I didn't know from the Male voice choir all sitting politely waiting for the fun to begin . Sandra, the popular  village Hall's caretaker, various members of the Hall committee and a smattering of villagers made up the numbers, villagers which included local farmer Med, a father and his ten year old son and a young woman from the new bungalows.
Not a bad turn out all told.
The training was carried out by the local first responders who are self funded  volunteers and who often get to arrest situations before the paramedics in this rural part of Wales. Our trainers were a primary school teacher a pharmacist and an ambulance driver.
Sandra kicked off the giggling by being unable to get the combination right on the defib case outside the hall which was a good start, then, Mrs Trellis, a slight lady at the best of times had noticable difficulty compressing the chest of resus dummy adequately!
" You can always use your foot" the trainer suggested helpfully
" not with these heels on" she countered.
Mrs Trellis has an unhurried ,precise and intensely mannered way about her, so I had to smile when she uncovered the defib pads with all the delicacy of a Japanese tea lady and placed them with infinate care upon the dummy. Pleased with what she had done she sat back to survey her work for a few seconds before starting chest compressions once more.
" Have I forgotten anything? " she chirped
" You need to switch the machine on" the responder suggested.
During the group chat, Farmer Med, who is a world travelled hiker, stumped the trainers for a few seconds with his
" What do I do if someone has a heart attack up the Himalayas?" 
"Do the best you can " came the reply

Busy

It's a day for small jobs. Ringing round the members of the Flower Show committee in order to organise a meeting for Monday, dropping off a sunflower to a friend who has lost her partner. Planting out more sunflowers and agapanthus by the back door.  Cutting the lawn. Cleaning the perspex on the village noticeboard. Washing clothes, hoovering the car.....weeding and polishing
Hours filled with jobs that don't sound very important