Tea and Cake

I was in bed for most of the day yesterday. We’d had an incredibly hard and busy shift Saturday night and so I slept heavily and long, despite being woken by the dogs baying at someone at the door in the afternoon. My visitor was Nick from the TCA who dropped off some of the Coronation cake made by bouncy Bridget . I missed his knock but soon spied a parcel of cake wrapped in silver paper plonked on top of my wall basket.

It was bloody lovely too with a hot cup of tea.

But I was soon snoring away the rest of the afternoon so missed any post-mortem from the Coronation afternoon tea which looked impressive on line and which probably  tasted even better in the flesh

The Eurovision night next Saturday will be a much bawdier affair me thinks.

Me hopes so.

So, Trelawnyd life plods along at its own pace. King Charles has his crown and I suspect he shouts and  laughs with Camilla loudly and long.

Eurovision is the next altar to pray at. Then it’s summer 

 

When Camilla Parker Bowles shat on the windscreen

 

Camilla as a gosling with her penmate Badger

When we were out for our morning walk great, untidy Vs of Canada Geese honked their way across the skies to their morning feeding grounds. So noisy they were, even Roger stopped to watch them fly over, a puzzled look upon his face.

Canada Geese always remind me of the orphan “ duckling” I took off an academic from Bangor university for she turned out to be a magnificent , doe eyed specimen, with a haughty look and regal lines. No wonder the village child announced precociously that she should be named after the then Prince of Wales old beau when I asked her jokingly to name her.

Occasionally Camilla would take to the skies when the mood took her, but she proved to be a terrible flyer all told and the following is an excerpt from a blog from seven years ago when Camilla crash landed on the local binmen’s lorry

Enjoy

 

“After sorting out the valve system on the radiators I was just getting all testosterone and full of myself when the council bin men lorry pulled up outside the cottage and one of the hairy arsed bin men knocked loudly on the front door .
I was half expecting them to be in a pissy mood after all I had left half a ton of plumber's packaging and bin bags out for collection but the binman wasn't bothered about the rubbish, he was more upset than anything
" One of your birds has smashed into our van" he told me
Apparently they had just turned the corner at the bottom of the lane when " a soddin massive black bird" had appeared from nowhere and had bounced on the roof of their refuse lorry, just above the windscreen.
The bird then " shat" down the windscreen ( probably in shock) then bounced into the hedge.
" It's still alive" the binman told me " it was hissing at us"
" It's probably Camilla Parker Bowles "I told him " She's a crap flyer"
The binman looked confused.

I could have done without another little drama. I was still getting used to the heating system more complicated than the average ITU ventilator and had already fixed a leaking radiator single handed a few minutes before, so with slightly heavy and irritated heart I followed the binman down the lane to where his three colleagues were peering into the hedge.
" It's in there" one man chirped up pointing to a goose sized hole in the hedge
I looked in and sure enough Camilla looked back at me with her big black solemn eyes.
As I reached in and picked her up, the binman who had knocked on the door turned to his friends and said" her name is Camilla Parker Bowles !" They all nodded with interest in a chorus of " ooos and arrhhhs"

Apart from a massive crap stain on her back end , Camilla looked shocked but unhurt. So I thanked the binmen and apologied for any damage caused.
" It will have to be logged " , the senior binman said " she's dented the roof" but they were soon on their way and Camilla was soon sat in a dark calm goose house under observation"

I wonder what the binmen would log in their incident file?
"Camilla Parker Bowles crash landed on our bin lorry today and she shat all over the windscreen "
Dirty girl.......”

Camilla after the collision 

Janet n John

At five I looked like Prince Louis

Now I look a bit like Camilla 

 

The Field

 Yesterday, I sort of threw away a comment that I had decided not to carry on with leasing the field.

I didn’t mean for it to sound dismissive.

It was just time for it to go.

Once, a few years ago now the field was filled with the chatter and movement of animals, activity surrounding four large allotment beds crammed with neat rows of vegetables, fruit bushes and the like.

The Ukrainian Village housed nearly 100 hens in one summer, with satellite houses providing a home for the dim hysterical Runner ducks, a gaggle of geese and the slow moving, delightfully morose turkeys who glided around the paddock like galleons in full sail.

Four pigs lived in the sty in the corner triangle right at the bottom of the field and up in the Ash trees on the Church borders came the noisy chatter of the guinea fowl who serenaded the entire village every morning and every dusk for years and years and years.

The Open Allotment days eventually turned into a successful  village fete with a giant marquee housing, Sylvia and Irene’s famous table busting cake sale ( over 100 homemade cakes donated from the village ladies) and the Name the pig, save the pig Competition  raised hundreds of pounds towards the Church Fund and  The Motor Neurone Association 

I’ve had a wander down memory Lane this morning and have picked out a few photographic memories to share with you all today. 

Enjoy…..

The Ukrainian Village

The allotment beginnings 

The hysterical runners and young cockerel facing off a strange cat in the field 

The villagers at the open day

My brother doing the raffle whilst he was ill

The villagers at my very first open allotment day

The biggest fete open day

The indomitable Sylvia with her record busting cake tent

Halleh the duck who thought he was a hen

The nasty guinea fowl Angostura, pecking at the gentle Boris

( she was named because I always thought she was bitter)

Hughie, Ivy and Alf who lived for years in the Church trees

camilla Parker Bowles as a gosling

Bingley and gentle old William

The famous Ghost hens, the battery broilers who taught me a great lesson about animal cruelty

The allotment was not only filled with vegetables and animals , great swathes of it was planted out to wild flowers

Jesus, the cockerel that just turned up on Boxing Day

The hysterical runners being hysterical

No 21 the nasty old spot sow and the gentle no 12 the saddleback boar as piglets

Camilla after she had crash landed on the binman’s lorry

The sausages made from the pigs

The field has been a good friend to me

And has been one to the village too

I’m not sad to be letting it go

It’s time

And I have new things to do

Hey ho

The huge blind rooster Cogburn

The original Mary ( the injured wild rabbit in her own hutch)

Sexing Camilla ( a revisit)

 No news. On night shift so I will post an old post from way back in 2013

Enjoy

Sexing Camilla

My profession (aka. Paid job) is as a wildlife ecologist,so I can finally offer you some professional advice John! Since Canada geese are not sexually dimorphic (they have the same plumage), in order to tell the sex of the bird you have to get up close and personal with them. This entails grabbing the goose, putting it on its back between your legs on the ground with the head tucked under your body and pressing hard with your thumbs on either side of the vent/cloacal opening. If it is a gander, a corkscrew shaped appendage will pop out. If not, you have a female. On goose banding days we do hundreds of them at a go. We also do bag checks of duck hunters and it is much easier sexing a dead goose than a live one!

So said the delightful Sherry from Spinners End Farm and this morning I took her advice, grabbed Camilla/ Charles ( delete when appropriate) when I let the animals out of their houses and in one swift movement popped the goose on his back and straddled him.

Everything was going swimmingly, even though Camilla was honking like an express train, and I was just about to flex the old thumbs around the aforementioned cloacal opening when all hell let loose.

I had just had time to turn my head to the right when I was hit in the face by a flurry of claws, beak and red feathers.

No doubt spurred on by Camilla's distress calls, Eric the diminutive cockerel had suddenly decided to go all super hero and batter the shit out of me, and luckily for him I was in an ideal position ( with my hands busy) not to be able to defend myself.

Eric got several more karate chops in before I made a run for it.

Camilla remains unsexed

And I got my arse well and truly kicked by a six inch high cockerel

Te Aroha

My dyspraxia is fucking up choir practice
Jamie, the 28 inch waisted choirmaster, taught us the Maori song Te Aroha ( the song can be basically translated as LOVE, FAITH,PEACE to all beings) and wanted us to slap our chest and things and move our feet appropriate to the tune...
Could I sing and slap and shuffle like the rest of my fellow choristers ?
Could I bloody coco!
I'm just not programmed to co ordinate mouth, hands and feet.
I can't even rub my stomach and pat myself on the head like any seven year old
It's a disability !
Hattie and Heulwen from the village who had been moved into the opposite  Alto section for the evening- we sing in a circle btw )  literally pissed themselves silly at my every attempt to click my fingers at the given moment

After an hour, an ever so slightly exasperated Jamie told us all not bother with the moves

Not our choir but this is the song

Perhaps blog follower Hāmitānā-Hēni 
Can give me a few pointers

Ps from the recording of I'm sorry I haven't a clue 
What is a Royal based famous film?

CAMILLA's  IN TNE MIST , 

Pastures New

This morning I recieved an email from a smallholder from Gwynedd . He told me that Camilla Parker Bowles and her " sisters" were doing very well indeed.
The email was a welcomed one, but it did twang the heart strings just a little.

Several weeks ago the geese left the Ukrainian village for pastures new.
I didn't blog about this fact , for it was rather a sad time.

It was a hard decision to make, but with the hens' removal to the safety of barn life and under the shadow of avian flu I finally made the decision that the geese had to be found a new home.
And I wanted total control over this change.
This year I retire from work. The Prof's work could and probably will change to pastures new and we also have the opportunity to travel a little more, and so I wanted the girls on a farm with care 24/7.
I " interviewed" several interested parties and eventually chose a small holder from the back-and-beyond in deepest Wales. He is an interesting character as he is good with animals and fairly poor with people.
He was also as poor as a church mouse,as it was evident that his income went on animal care and not designer clothing!
It was this quiet dedication that allowed me to make that final decision.
Now Camilla has the space to fly without risks of crash landing on the nearest bin lorry. The group now have a safe haven with a pond and a new owner who only leaves the farm to to the weeks' shopping.

I still miss the geese but I am so happy they are settled in their new home.
Was it actually seven years ago when they arrived?

Late Camilla Update

 Apologies Janice, I forgot to pass on the Camilla is fine after her bin lorry collision , I took this photo of her, Jo and Carol in a frozen Ukrainian village and field this morning . - 6 degrees tonight! Thank goodness we have a new heating system...
Even though the Professor who has a PhD .....cannot figure out yet!

A very cold Irene and Sylvia waiting for their feed this morning

Royal Arse

After sorting out the valve system on the radiators I was just getting all testosterone and full of myself when the council  bin men lorry pulled up outside the cottage and one of the hairy arsed bin men knocked loudly on the front door .
I was half expecting them to be in a pissy mood after all I had left half a ton of plumber's packaging and bin bags out for collection but the binman wasn't bothered about the rubbish, he was more upset than anything
" One of your birds has smashed into our van" he told me
Apparently they had just turned the corner at the bottom of the lane when " a soddin massive black bird" had appeared from nowhere and had bounced on the roof of their refuse lorry, just above the windscreen.
The bird then " shat" down the windscreen ( probably in shock) then bounced into the hedge.
" It's still alive" the binman told me " it was hissing at us"
" It's probably Camilla Parker Bowles "I told him " She's a crap flyer"
The binman looked confused.

I could have done without another little drama. I was still getting used to the heating system more complicated than the average ITU ventilator and had already fixed a leaking radiator single handed a few minutes before, so with slightly heavy and irritated heart I followed the binman down the lane to where his three colleagues were peering into the hedge.
" It's in there" one man chirped up pointing to a goose sized hole in the hedge
I looked in and sure enough Camilla looked back at me with her big black solemn eyes.
As I reached in and picked her up, the binman who had knocked on the door turned to his friends and said" her name is Camilla Parker Bowles !" They all nodded with interest in a chorus of " ooos and arrhhhs"

Apart from a massive crap stain on her back end , Camilla looked shocked but unhurt. So I thanked the binmen and apologied for any damage caused.
" It will have to be logged " , the senior binman said " she's dented the roof"  but they were soon on their way and Camilla was soon sat in a dark calm goose house under observation"

I wonder what the binmen would log in their incident file?
"Camilla Parker Bowles crash landed on our bin lorry today and she shat all over the windscreen "
Dirty girl.......

The Night Before School.

I've not been in work for three weeks

I am working this evening

The day has a feeling those Sunday evenings did before school.

Hey ho

I'm off to find an elderly neighbour now with a gift of half a dozen eggs.

This morning she found Camilla wandering in the road

( probably after a crash landing somewhere in the village) 

And returned her in one piece to the Ukrainian village 

Tits Up

 I had a lot to complete today....bitty, insignificent jobs for sure, but they were ones that needed doing.
Unsurprisingly almost every job went tits up, albeit in a small way........this is the way of the world

Camilla looking mighty pissed off

 Firstly I was badly bitten on the arse cheeks by one of the geese when I was removing an egg from under a rather disgruntled Camilla Parker Bowles. She is far too well bred to nip me herself ( the worst thing she will ever do is to gently hiss at me)but her housemate Jo, isn't and it was Jo that crept up on me and my builder's crack in order to give me a good seeing to.

After this I picked up George from the pet superstore groomers and he pissed like a horse up the glass of the guinea pig enclosure on the way out.
He's ten today too, so as a birthday gift the groomer manager gave him a wrapped bag of small dog biscuits....more about them later!

We then drove to tesco in order to return a carpet cleaner I had hired but I had forgotten the code of the door lock of the stand it came from and couldn't therefore put the bloody thing back. The
supermarket was very helpful even though it was a different company who ran the stall and they allowed me to use their phone to finally locate someone in customer services to help me but I was all hot and bothered by the time I had got rid of the soddin machine.

I was good however and didn't succumb to an emergency scotch egg in order to calm my nerves but I did buy  George a small packet of garlic sausage he could eat in the car before I went to the Nat West to do some banking for the Prof.

There was a long queue at the bank so I thought I would fill in the cheque stub while I waited, so I pulled the cheque book out of my overstuffed pockets and promptly pulled the bag of dog goodies out  scattering the lot all over the floor!
The queue did one of those typically British things and ohhhhhhed and arrrhhhhhhed a lot as I went very red but at least one man and a middle aged woman started to help me pick them up as another younger woman said to her toddler son " oooohh the man's dropped all his sweeties!"
The toddler promptly picked up the nearest " sweetie" and horrified,  I yelled rather too theatrically
" THEY'RE DOG BUISCUITS!!!!!!!!" at the mother just incase the little sod tried to eat one
This initiated another set of ooooohh's and arrrhhhhh's from the queue!

 

George looking very smart, he's ten today!

This afternoon I have pruned the honeysuckle from around the front door and fell off the garden chair I was using as a ladder when the postman arrived with a package.

" You've got to be careful with D I Y ," he said helpfully " more people are killed in falls at home every year than they are on the roads! " 

I scowled....but he carried on chearfully 

"Another pressie from one of your blog fans?" He said handing over the parcel 

As it turned out the parcel was filled to the gunnels with homemade hearts...a gift from my father in law's friend June, who made them for me to sell at the flower show......a very kind gesture.......

Thank you june 

 One of the nicer things to happen to me today 

Hey ho

Camilla Parker Bowles Takes To The Skies.

That's two and a half hours I won't ever get back.

Foolishly, I let Mary have a gallop around the field this afternoon.
Goo-goo eyed she chased the sheep, (undaunted by their brief show of horn and stamping feet ) and like a lunatic rounded up the remaining hens and boxed them into a coop before scattering them again  to the four winds.
She was impossible to catch.
I almost grabbed her several times, but like most puppies, she sensed the chase to be a game and bounced under the gate into the lower field where the geese had been hiding.
The domestic geese, Russell, Jo and Kate all stood their ground and hissed and honked their displeasure as Mary galloped around them , only Camilla panicked and in a fit of hysteria took off from the field.
Now Camilla, is essentially a wild Canada goose so should,on paper , retain her ability to fly, but since I raised her, she has more or less followed her adopted flock's sedentary grassed based existence.  In four years she has perhaps glided a mere 100 feet, and on two occasions has crash landed  into the fields next door on windy days.
Today, Camilla took off like a jet fighter. She circled the field in an untidy loop at a height of perhaps a hundred and fifty feet, then, buffeted by a gust of wind  she soared away over the Church and out of sight past the Rectory.
" Shiiiiiitttttttttttt!"
I managed to grab Mary and locked her inside a hen house before galloping like a loon through the Churchyard in pursuit but Camilla was no where to be seen.
I searched the livery stable fields, Pippa's field where the alpacas eyed me nervously , The Rectory gardens and the village green beyond, but there was no sign.
I even raised a few eyebrows down nearby Well Street by calling " CAMILLA!" down alleyways and driveways, but that part of the village was deserted too.
The lady from Abbott House looked particularly surprised when I told her that I was looking for a black and white goose called Camilla Parker Bowles.....like you do.
Systematically, I extended the search.
I checked behind the pub and the chapel and behind the cottages on London Road and still there was no sign, so I went up Byron Street and knocked on a few doors.
An  old chap who was washing his car told me that he had seen a " low flying goose" heading East
" she was honking like a train" he said.
I was onto something
Now on the far east part of Trelawnyd is an upmarket housing estate of say ten houses and beyond that are Basil the farmer's sheep fields. So I took a chance and climbed over a few fences and nearly two hours after the whole bloody mess started, I found Camilla sitting open beaked where she had crash landed in the centre of a flock of ewes.

Bruised and battered but ok, Camilla returning home

I carried her all the way home
And after I introduced her back with her flock mates I returned to the cottage for a restorative cup of coffee and a custard tart.
It was only then , that I remembered Mary locked away in the hen house!

Goose Gone

For those that don't know, I have four geese living in the Ukrainian village and they make for a tight knit little flock of which I am exceedingly fond.
A few years ago now , I bought two goose eggs from ebay and incubated both successfully in the garden shed. Over a period of two days both hatched with some difficulty, and although one grey gosling injured her ŵing during the hatching process both babies thrived.
I named them Winnie and Jo.
A year or so later Camilla arrived all the way from Kent . She was found abandoned  and was considered to be a rather large and ungainly duckling. Camilla , as it turned out grew into a beautiful Canada goose.
The only gander in the group was another waif. He was rather a sad character who had been bullied by a larger and more aggressive male in the back garden of a chap from a nearby town. He arrived sat quietly inside a sports bag and has remained a gentle little soul ever since.
I called him Russell.
The group of four are noisy but for geese, incredibly good natured birds.

Jo, vocal and distant again this morning

Last night Jo went missing, at locking up time . The three other geese stood quietly at the goose house door and called for her but there was no answer from the field or from the livery stables beyond. I searched the hedges and nettle patches for her, just in case she had made herself a nest, but I knew nesting time is now over.
I mooched for over an hour but there was no sign of her and I could feel my bottom lip quiver just a bit when I gave up the search.
I finally went to bed after midnight but couldn't settle so I put on my head touch marshalled Winnie and William ( George was asleep in bed) and went out on the field then down the lane  to look for her.
We walked a few hundred yards to the Felin, at the bottom of the little valley behind the cottage and from a good distance by the old Mill house , I could see two eyes reflecting one after another in the light of my torch from the tall grass at the side of the road.

I called and recieved a small honk back .
It was bleeding like the final scene of Lassie Come home .

I carried Jo all the way back to the field , and it was the first time she had let me touch her since she was a gosling. She sat still and well behaved tucked firmly up underneath my arm
I've said it before and no doubt I will say it again......
But these animals will be the effin death of me

Bleaching The Fanny Flannel

Meg's death has hit The Prof rather hard today.
There is a reason for this I feel.
When It comes to the animals, I have always assumed the " traditional" 1950's housewife role, and in bleak times like we have now, I can get lost, just a little , in the minutia of caring for the group of characters with special needs.
The dogs still need to be fed, Albert still needs worming, and Winnie still needs her tuppence wiping  by the hastily resurrected " fanny flannel"  as just yesterday she has decided to come back into season.
Baby birds with their mouths open will keep a mother busy.
Unfortunately the Prof doesn't have that kind of luxury.

So this morning I took William to the groomers nice and early. He rolled his eyes in surprise when I opened the driver's door and told him to sit in the passenger seat as if it was almost as though he was waiting for Meg to beat him to it....but I needed the seat to be filled , and so I told him that it was all ok.
He sat up in rather a " full of himself" way....happy at the promotion.
It tugged just a little at the old heartstrings.

On the way home, I spied a familiar figure in a floppy hat walking down the Llanasa road and my heartstrings were tugged just a little more
It was Mrs Trellis and with her, walking gently to heel, was her new companion, a slender whippet cross called Blue.
Her face beamed as Blue said hello to me with typical whippet politeness and it was lovely to see the transformation a new dog had made to her life.

So, today, I have carer jobs to do. George and Winnie are waiting for their walk. I've got to refill the field's paddling pool as Camilla has just emptied it and after Winnie's sneaky " lie in" on our bed...the duvet cover is in drastic need of  a hot wash!
Thanks to everyone who has emailed and have left comments for us regarding Meg.....everyone has
been so kind
Anyhow

I'll leave you with two more blogger  entries to the NOVELTY VEGETABLE PHOTO COMPETITION........they are great are they not?....please keep your veg photos coming in.......they will lighten my day! ( to jgsheffield@hotmail.com)

Camilla bombed

Always concentrate on what you are doing where animals are concerned.
It's a good lesson that not always remembered.
The phone went early this morning and as expected it was Olwen who told me that Bob had died peacefully.
I went out to sort the animals out and got to thinking how awful it is for anyone who has lost a loved one when the sun shines and the world looks as though it is going on as normal.
We have all been there have we not?
On the surface everyone else's life is unchanged when your reality has crumbled
My thoughts are for Olwen and her family today.

It was this preoccupation that made me sloppy this morning.
For after emptying the goose house, I crawled inside , grabbed this morning's laid eggs and stuck my head back out , squinting into the sun.
Then Something  smacked me very hard in the eye

Hell hath no fury than a broody Canada Goose called Camillla Parker Bowles

Egg Heist

I was just in the process of making the bed when I heard a God awful commotion on the field.
It was Camilla and she was honking like an express train.
I ran to the window thinking a fox had struck, only to see Winnie struggling to squeeze herself under the dividing gate from the bottom to the top field. Camilla was behind her honking angrily and was snapping at her struggling bottom while the other dogs gleefully bounced around behind the fencing obviously enjoyed the drama.
Some egg thievery was afoot!
I grabbed my ipad and jogged over to capture what was left of the drama on film

It is the ever resourceful George who has taught Winnie to steal eggs, but wisely George has never tried to nab one of the goose eggs when they are broody. Winnie's greed obviously had got the best of her and when Camilla was off the nest for a moment she had ventured into the goose house, grabbed an egg and had legged it.
Unfortunately for her Camilla had seen the theft and had launched what can only be described as a spirited defence.

But Bulldogs love their food, and a few bites up the arsehole didnt upset Winnie too much for when I got over to the field, she was busy eating the contents as Camilla sulked on the sidelines.

Getting On With Things ( and thanks to Arvon)

Affable Despot a Jason always jokes that he hibernates during the winter months
" See you in spring" he'll sing out if you bump into him on one of his few outdoor jaunts when it is dark and cold and wet, so I wasn't surprised that he stopped by the field gate the other afternoon when it was warm and sunny , and when the daffodils had started to bud on the field borders.
I call Jason an affable despot , because he is always upbeat, and strangely enough when we caught up the other afternoon we chatted about the subject of optimism and coping a subject that was particulary relevant given the fact that Jason's family have had to deal with a recent life challenge of sorts.
" You've just got to get on with things" Jason said brightly
Simple to say, and for some, very difficult to do.
Personally, I think effectively " getting on with things" depends on three factors
1. Not overthinking problems
2. Having a sense of humour
3. Having a plan
Factors 1 and 2 depend on your personality, so just cannot be accessed by everyone........factor three can be used by all so is always useful......so always have a plan......plans give structure, order and security to any unstable situation.
Ok, ...end of the lecture....

Ps Thank You
It's a wet and crappy looking day today and I'm spending some of it decorating again
. I also need to walk up to pen-y-Cefn Isa this morning with a gift of some eggs. It got back to me that Arvon from the farm found Camilla alone down the lane last Sunday and took his time to walk her all the way back home to the safely of the Ukranian village.
I am very grateful
Below is Arvon pronouncing the word Trelawnyd for a previous blog

 

For the other Trelawnyd villagers saying Trelawnyd

See

http://disasterfilm.blogspot.co.uk/2013/03/tre-lawn-yd.html