Enjoy

Albert's non weight bearing on his front right leg and has gone to bed

I hope it's just a sprain

I've had to give Winnie's fanny a good scrub with the dishcloth as she has left a bit of a 

" woman mess" on my new chicken cushion on the armchair

And I have just been hit on the head TWICE by several large eating apples after neighbour Trevor 

Asked me to collect a bucket load from his Apple trees by shaking the branches with an old rake

I am off to  bed....for a sleep

I'll leave you with this video

Admittedly a little saccarine 

But it did make me smile after a woman from work showed me it on her phone this morning

" Jesus is a transvestite"

Zombie head no more ( look closely you can see Albert hunting mice in the background)

Despite waxing lyrically on village life in yesterday's post, not everything in the garden is indeed rosy. Last night some delightful character took my zombie pumpkin lantern from its position on our garden wall and smashed it down the lane
A nice little act of silliness, I thought.

I collected the skull bits  when  I took Winnie out for a wee this morning. She's much brighter today by the way.......her mood was connected to the fact that she is coming into season
Last night she spent a good hour rubbing her fanny on the fireside hearth tiles, and was much better for doing so, I can tell you..... But that, as they say, is another story!
Anyhow the hens enjoyed the bright orange pulp of the destroyed pumpkin  for breakfast
At least I could recycle some of the damage.

Talking of hens, does anyone remember Jesus, the single  chick that hatched on Easter Sunday.? Well as it happened Jesus has turned out to be a bit of quandary
For he/she is a hermaphrodite!
As it happens 1 in 10,000 hens turn out to be such a mixture . Big cockerel feet, shapely hen's body and not a f'cking egg in sight, Jesus is now just a non contributing extra mouth to feed!

,

Jesus

Not that I mind too much, for this strange little bird is now one of my favourite characters on the field. Ostracised by the other hens, who know she/ he is different Jesus has set up home in Mary the disabled rabbit's old hutch.....alone but safe from sharp bully boy beaks.

I was telling one of my elderly egg customers about Jesus the other week. 

" bloody useless " I said in way of explanation as the hen walked past  "half male half female ..bloody useless" 

My customer looked surprised and said in her sing song voice

" dewwww fancy that! Jesus is a transvestite then!"

Best oneliner of the day.

Delivering & Bulldog Sulks

Some people have commented that  Going Gently depicts a village which is overly friendly and wonderfully community minded.
I disagree.
I think Trelawnyd is no different to most communities rural or otherwise. I just think I am am lucky enough to be around to see the small village " snippets" that would be perhaps overlooked by others.

When you walk around an art gallery a hundred times, you will see more in the paintings...so to speak

Today is a case in point.
I have spent the entire morning hand delivering Flower Show minutes to the committee and the donations from the committee to their respective recipients, and the mild weather seems to have brought the village into life
The only thing not bursting into life was Winnie

For some reason she decided to sulk In her favourite arm chair all morning. Bulldogs can take sudden umbrage with the best of people and situations...
When they go like this, it's best to leave them to it.

At 10.40 the little nipper bus stops in the village as it weaves its way down through the lower village of Dyserth and then to Prestatyn by the sea. Today twelve people stood waiting for it to arrive, among them Jackie ( who has the bad tempered Labrador ) Mary with her all singing and all dancing walking frame and Gay Gordon who bellowed out his usual " HELLO FLOWER" as I passed.
We really should have a village shop INSIDE the village

The Polish workmen and their ever cheerful foreman at the derelict  houses on London Road all waved when we passed . They have worked very hard rebuilding the original stone wall by the road and as we ambled up Byron Street, I spied a serious looking Mrs Trellis through her living room window, practicing on her piano.

I dropped off AuntieGlad's copies of the Flower Show minutes ( she always has specially made copies that are twice the font size of any of the others) and chatted to Islwyn's brother who was working on the house next door which has just been sold. The two houses are the oldest in the village

I saw and passed some time with animal helper Pat, Margaret C and Muvvie, the ever smiling Ann M and her hubby Terry and then dropped off a payment of 20£ to farmer Basil whose contracted hedge cutters had trimmed my field hedgerows a week or so ago. Basil's sheepdog always give me a dagger look from his position on the passenger seat. The terriers all eye him coldly. They hate farm dogs.

As I get home Carol R suddenly leans over the garden wall and called breathlessly " I need two eggs!...I'm doing the hairy biker's Christmas Cake and I've run out!" She giggles helplessly after saying the words " The Hairy Bikers" out loud.

I had been out just shy of two and a half hours.... And all I had done was to deliver 14 envelopes!
Winnie was still sulking when we got home

The Walking Dead episode 3 ( Spoilers)

The first rule of the 1970 disaster film is to stick together
There is security and safety in numbers
That's the rule.
Shelley Winters did it with Gene Hackman in The Poseidon Adventure and Helen Reddy's Singing nun did it with Linda Blair's kidney patient in Airport 75
Always stick together and be brave........

The 2014 equivalent of the disaster movie is of course The Walking Dead
It's all about a standard group of the general public ( cop, football player, abused mom, redneck squirrel hunter, psychopath 13 year old, farmer's daughter and a vicar) and how they survive the zombie apocalypse ........
It's The Towering Inferno's Jennifer Jones with guts.....bloody guts
Anyhow

And I am annoyed at the producers of the tv series for NOT ADHERING TO THE  RULES!

Of course they do this to wrong foot the audience and keep us on our toes...but only 24 hours after Rick's group reunited after a whole fourth series apart.....we see Carol and Daryl fuck off after a mysterious hearse, Abraham's team with Tara, Maggie and Glen bugger off to DC in the  school bus and team Rick hole up in the Church
Oh and poor old Bob has been half eaten by a group of cannibals,  bitten by an underwater zombie and put down by his future brother in law.
It's all abit much
I'm getting stressed
I like neatness.....
And order
And I am a sucker for a happy ending.
Hey ho

Bagman On The Bus

I tried to pay the bus driver with two Turkish coins this morning.
I got all excited when I saw the pile of coins on the chest of drawers in the bedroom , and thought I'll have them in order to treat the cottage to some shop bought flowers.
What do I know.....? A Turkish 1 lire coin looks remarkably like a small 2 £ coin....
Well in actual fact it doesn't to the Trelawnyd bus driver.
She Sussed my mistake in an instant!
And at least didn't kick me off the bus.
One of the other passengers , an old man who had seen better days , loaned me the cash. He was from Holywell and told me,  rather too loudly, that I could give him back the cash when I cashed my giro.

Ps for those non UK readers...la giro is an unemployment cheque

What Fun

We went to Chester today for a spot of lunch and shopping

What fun

Hey ho ......smartarse

Tom  over at http://tomstephenson.blogspot.co.uk
Kind of summed, in his last post, my lack of imagination .
And for once he is right.
True he left out my obsession with zombie tv shows and the occasional scotch eggs, but his message was very clear
" you're repeating yourself"
Here is the post...it is rather funny

"I am knackered. A long and difficult night shift followed by three hours on the end of the phone talking to practical jokers, and I get home to discover that all the chicken sheds have been blown over in the wind, and the badger has eaten all the chickens which have escaped into the churchyard, with a little help from the fox.

Oh well, I think, I might as well collect the last of the eggs to deliver to the old ladies of the village, but - bugger me - one of the dogs has got to them before I did.

Just as in The Archers, all of the flowers have been flattened in the hurricane as well, so this year's show is going to be very sparse indeed.

I thought there would be just enough time to squeeze Millicent's anal glands before Chris gets back from his very important meeting at work, but what do I find when I go up to change the duvet? One of the dogs has had an extremely loose bowel-movement all over it, and the cat has settled down in the middle of the stinking mess, purring away as if nothing has happened.

Hey Ho."

Now I was going to pretend I was going to leave blogging for a while.....just to put the cat amongst the pidgeons ones so to speak...but on reflection ( thanks vee) I wont...xxx
He says ( flouncing about )

" I Shall Say This Only Once"

Friend John is on the right

My visit of sheffield proved to be a short and ever-so-slightly surreal experience as I plunged from meeting old friend, Jane for tea at a nice but over priced wine bar in the centre of the city to sitting in the centre of a memorial hall sized audience of an am-dram performance of "allo-allo" in the " village" of Grenoside one of the many villagers which overlook Sheffield from the North West.

My old camp -as-Christmas friend John H ( who comments here as Bel Ami from time to time) was in his element. With a Nazi uniform complete with gold braid, Jack boots that Shirley Bassey would die for and a rather unfortunate scene with knockwurst sausage to contend with, he looked as though he was really enjoying himself on stage.

So I could forgive the atrocious acting by the leading lady, the interval raffle where you could win a small anaemic looking pot plant and the running commentary belted out by two old ladies behind me as it was all good natured fun in the tradition of Alan Bennett or Alan Akbourne.

As one of the old dears piped up during the interval

" there's nowt better than a bit of harmless old fashioned smut"

And I guess she was right.

After the show I shared a few pints at the local pub with the cast, who delighted at a semi serious post mortem of their performances and couldn't help thinking with some affection, that although I had wanted to leave the confines of a village for the much anticipated experience of a Northern City break

I suddenly did feel as though I had never really left Trelawnyd