Part of Chris' mid life crisis is a slight obsession with exercise
Tomorrow he is buying us matching bikes
I have not ridden a bike for over 4o years
God in Heaven Help me!
He's forgotten I'm slightly dyspraxic
A pinch and a punch for the first of the month…a slap and a kick for being so quick!
* the video has little to do with the text but it gives food for thought on so many levels
I wonder if the one off "slap across the chops" for lewd and "lascivious" behaviour is more a product of cinematic folklore than a real social phenomenon.
Did it ever really exist?
Last night I witnessed a young woman squaring up to a young man outside a seedy bar in Rhyl.
As I stopped at the traffic lights the girl gave the bloke a couple of theatrical slaps ( to which he didn't retaliate) then launched in with a folly of kicks and punches , to which he did.
Friends of the couple then intervened before things could escalate further.
It seems that between the sexes, The Queensbury Rules no longer apply.
A few years ago, I had to deal with a patient's elderly father who became sexually "fresh" with other female visitors. The situation was complicated by the fact that the man in question was non English speaking, An Iraqi citizen and a guest of the British Government.
He also had little respect for any female nurse he came into contact with.
The situation came to a head when the relative tried to grope one of the ward nurses as she was in the middle of a nursing procedure. The nurse, an assertive Yorkshire girl, turned around and instinctively punched him hard on the jaw. A punch that had his Keffiyeh flying against the wall and had him sitting dazed and confused upon the floor.
He was still crying into his beard when I came lumbering into the room
From that moment, until he was returned to Iraq a couple of weeks later we never heard another peep out of him.
Yesi
After the shenanigans with new hens and American amblers I was slightly late going to auntie Glad's to meet with the reporter who is doing the piece on " Gladys and The Flower Show" for the Evening Leader.
In the end, both reporter and photographer didn't turn up ( a mix up on their part which they should rectify today) but the three quarters of an hour waiting for them to turn up proved to be a surprisingly entertaining time out in my day.
Sat at her spotless table in an immaculate old fashioned kitchen, Gladys and I were joined by Islwyn Thomas, who at 90 is a sprightly five years Gladys' junior. He had been out and about selling tickets for the forthcoming Trelawnyd Male Voice Choir Summer concert, which takes place on the 19th.
Islwyn is a man who never stops chortling. Most of his sentences are punctuated with the very Welsh word " Yesi" ( pronounced as yessssss-i) which can be translated loosely as " Jesus" and this seems always to be followed with a smile and a laugh.
He is one of life's naturally happy individuals.
Islwyn and Gladys have been friends for a lifetime and it shows. In a matter of minutes the two of them cackled and laughed over memories shared and village news.
I just sat back and watched.
They recalled a mad Irishman who lived in High Street who once drunkenly threw milk bottles at the men from the choir when they took refreshments in Auntie Glad's garage.
They laughed at the way Islwyn used to deliver canisters of paraffin to the outlying village farms on the handlebars of his bike.
And they laughed like drains at the helium balloon with the phrase " congratulations you are 80" on it that Gladys found floating by her back door only that morning.
She brought the balloon in from the scullery to show us, and the pair laughed happily again.
Laughter... I suspect it's just one of the reasons both have lived so long
In the end, both reporter and photographer didn't turn up ( a mix up on their part which they should rectify today) but the three quarters of an hour waiting for them to turn up proved to be a surprisingly entertaining time out in my day.
Sat at her spotless table in an immaculate old fashioned kitchen, Gladys and I were joined by Islwyn Thomas, who at 90 is a sprightly five years Gladys' junior. He had been out and about selling tickets for the forthcoming Trelawnyd Male Voice Choir Summer concert, which takes place on the 19th.
Islwyn
Islwyn is a man who never stops chortling. Most of his sentences are punctuated with the very Welsh word " Yesi" ( pronounced as yessssss-i) which can be translated loosely as " Jesus" and this seems always to be followed with a smile and a laugh.
He is one of life's naturally happy individuals.
Islwyn and Gladys have been friends for a lifetime and it shows. In a matter of minutes the two of them cackled and laughed over memories shared and village news.
I just sat back and watched.
They recalled a mad Irishman who lived in High Street who once drunkenly threw milk bottles at the men from the choir when they took refreshments in Auntie Glad's garage.
They laughed at the way Islwyn used to deliver canisters of paraffin to the outlying village farms on the handlebars of his bike.
And they laughed like drains at the helium balloon with the phrase " congratulations you are 80" on it that Gladys found floating by her back door only that morning.
She brought the balloon in from the scullery to show us, and the pair laughed happily again.
Laughter... I suspect it's just one of the reasons both have lived so long
Be Nice To Strangers
I caught two lady ramblers in the front garden this afternoon. Both were peeping through the cottage windows. And both looked incredibly shocked when I bellowed out a lusty
" Can I help You?" from the field.
The younger woman was bright red in the face and very apologetic and explained that she wanted to know if we had natural ceiling beams or painted ones. She had been told that " proper Welsh Cottages " always had painted ceilings.
Both women were American, and both were on an organised walking holiday. I think the younger woman said they were from Columbus , Ohio.
Of course I invited both in to see the ceiling for themselves
and there was much 'oooohhhhing'and 'arrrhhhhhing' when the ceiling was presented
The older woman saw our collection of gaudy Welsh jugs that I have displayed between the ceiling beams and squealed excitedly that she would love to own one.
This tickled me , and I remembered that in the kitchen cupboard I had put a cracked and chipped jug that I had bought from ebay for just a few pounds some years ago. As the woman took a couple of photos of the beams ( I never asked them just why they thought the subject was so important) I found the jug and offered it to the woman who thought all her Christmases had arrived at once.
It was no skin off my nose as the jug was more or less worthless, but it seemed to make the woman's day
" Can I help You?" from the field.
The younger woman was bright red in the face and very apologetic and explained that she wanted to know if we had natural ceiling beams or painted ones. She had been told that " proper Welsh Cottages " always had painted ceilings.
Both women were American, and both were on an organised walking holiday. I think the younger woman said they were from Columbus , Ohio.
Of course I invited both in to see the ceiling for themselves
and there was much 'oooohhhhing'and 'arrrhhhhhing' when the ceiling was presented
This tickled me , and I remembered that in the kitchen cupboard I had put a cracked and chipped jug that I had bought from ebay for just a few pounds some years ago. As the woman took a couple of photos of the beams ( I never asked them just why they thought the subject was so important) I found the jug and offered it to the woman who thought all her Christmases had arrived at once.
It was no skin off my nose as the jug was more or less worthless, but it seemed to make the woman's day
The Happy Americans left when I got sidetracked with another visitor
( a woman who wanted me to take in her five hens..which included
a lovely
black Orpington who I have now named Bunty
 |
| Bunty ...the size of a bowling ball |
When I returned to the cottage after sorting the hens out , I noticed a scrap of paper wedged in the letter box
Wrapped in it there was a Crisp £ 10 note
And written on the paper the words
Two nosey Americans say thank you
Time Out
When I am at home, there is just one two and a half hour window a day when
I am totally " animal free" and
I feel like a suddenly " freed" parent who has just dropped the toddlers off at nursery
It is a time I am not followed by the patter of little feet
It is a time I can have a bath without little eyes peeping over the bath tub rim
And it is a time I can bleach the kitchen floor without someone demanding a shit or a wee
From around 8 am and 10.30am
the animals take themselves off to bed,
It's a daily treat they look forward to
I am typing this at 10.26 at the kitchen table
I have just completed a load of Chris' paperwork
and right on time, the animals are starting to stir upstairs
Creatures of habit
It's a daily treat they look forward to
 |
| Albert is in the middle of all this |
I have just completed a load of Chris' paperwork
and right on time, the animals are starting to stir upstairs
Creatures of habit
Pussy Pad
My cousin has recently opened up a cattery
I dropped her off a flower show schedule today and had a look at her very impressive " pussy pad"
It has all mod cons
And looks very impressive indeed!
When I got back to Trelawnyd I recommended it to a neighbour who has a cat he may like to board
He was somewhat intrigued when I offered to show him a photo of" my cousin's neat little pussy pad"
It's been a funny old day
I could do with a large martini
I've got your number.
The number means that you are deemed to be an objective listener. A person with no axe to grind when answering a phone to a distressed, overwhelmed , mentally ill and possibly suicidal caller who needs contact with another human being.
Most of us are lucky enough to have our own objective ears when we are going through a hard time.
A friend who will know how much sympathy to furnish, how much plain speaking is required to help and how much clarification is needed for the murky clouds of upset to be shifted away.
To us, the majority, it is almost unfeasible to think that some people have no one to turn to when their black dog surfaces.
Yet, for whatever reason, so many people don't have that friend to lean on when things go to shit
And that is a huge crime in my book.
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