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!
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!









