The Choir Concert

The choir out of their usual maroon uniforms

The Trelawnyd Male Voice Choir " Noson Llawen "was the best concert I have seen in the Hall to date. This was thanks primarily to the choir's new Musical Director Ann Atkinson who proved herself to be a talented Singer herself as she belted out the Habenera whilst draped over the front row of grinning choir members.
I have posted two short videos of the performance, and apologies for the state of the filming , I couldn't raise the ipad too high. One video is the choir belting out a " pirate " song and the other was a quick video of the compare who is a very Welsh Farmer from the sticks!
Enjoy

A Turd In The Bookcase

I have had only two visitors this morning.
The first was a new resident from the village who had received a " welcome letter" from The Flower Show Committee along with a request to participate in the Show .
He kindly entered one of his own paintings into the art class and seemed chuffed that his entry was the first one I have received.
I sat him down in the living room with Winnie who was happy making goo-goo eyes at him as I pottered around trying to find my paperwork in the kitchen and when I returned the man pointed to William who was looking all innocent and said in  rather a surprised voice  " That dog has just shat on your bookcase"
I tried to look nonchalant and said   " He does that all the time...he likes to back into things" which is perfectly true and managed to scoop up the offending article with a tea towel without causing too much fuss.
" I've never had a dog" the man said thankfully giving William a dirty look.

And for the third time in as many weeks I thought to myself  " these animals WILL be the death of me.... "

Anyhow the second caller arrived when I was scrubbing the rest of the turd from the bookcase's glass door with a bit of kitchen roll. It was Mandy our neighbour who gave me a big vase of flowers. She does this on a regular basis , not because she loves me, but because her and her husband are always popping away on trips and she doesn't want to waste the vases of flowers she has around the house.
Its a good system, I must say.

My original subject of today's post , ( before I got sidetracked by a turd on the bookcase and neighbours with flowers) was the subject of cheating! Yes, it has been brought to my attention by an eagle eyed blogger that ONE of the international entries to the NOVELTY VEGETABLE/ FRUIT class WAS BOGUS!
( duh duh durrrrrrrrrr!)
Apparantly this clever collection of mice

Had been lifted directly from the website " pure and simple bakes" http://pureandsimplebakes.com/2013/03/30/i-have-mice-in-my-kitchen-edible-ones/
Naughty naughty......thank goodness I didnt put who the culprit was next to their entry...but you know who you are and so it's a case of smacked bottoms all round......the work may be inspired by images from google ( thats where I find my ideas) but must be made by your own fair hand

Rather like this creation!

So keep em comming!

Tonight the village Summer concert by the Trelawnyd Male Voice Choir takes place

For a village event it is surprisingly high brow for the choir has in support 

some nationally well known opera singers and musicians 

I will sneak in my ipad and will record perhaps the tiniest bit of the singing

So you can get a feel of the quality of it all!

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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

Village Gossip & A Thank You To Maryanne

I cannot hope to compete with the fantastic response of yesterday's blog entry, so I won't bother!
Today's blog will centre upon the plodding normality of Flower Show Prep.
All morning I was baking cakes for the refreshment stall. All have been wrapped and frozen ready for the day.

Last Night was earmarked for more raffle ticket selling which turned out to be a harder job than I anticipated , not because people were not buying, they were, but because people got me chatting and socialising rather than selling .
I sold a load of tickets at the wonderfully warm Cameron household , had a guided tour of their new garden and was given a jar of strawberry jam before I left. Ian and Jo at the old police house  proudly showed me Jo's collection of homemade pottery and I had a good gossip at another " unnamed" villager's house who told me all about the shady goings on at The Crown ( the village pub) where the latest manager has done a bunk over some " substance" issues! ...I also heard that the old landlords Ceri and Nathan are now returning, which is very good news for the village.

The Camerons ( centre) at my open allotment day

Around 8 pm I had to give up as I bumped into my nemesis, the Chairman of the Conservation group, who was selling his own committee's  raffle tickets .He was coming up High Street whereas I was going down......and although I knew I may have the popular vote when it came down to ticket selling,
 he had the gravitas and seniority.

We both politely said hello and both decided to call the selling thing to an end for the evening but before I left for home I called into Auntie Glads gleaming kitchen to drop off a few tickets for her to sell from the comfort of her armchair.
The old gal , with a slight twinkle in her eye asked me how many tickets I had already sold
" Nearly three hundred!"I told her proudly!
" Isnt that wonderful" she chirped with the faintest hint of a smug smile

For we both knew damm well that she had sold over four hundred last year

And to finish...I must thank Maryanne over at co.ukhttp://sentfrommyiron.blogspot.co.uk
For sending me several packs of homemade bunting to sell at the flower show this year,
Its so bloody kind of her especially as she posted them from New Zealand

I love receiving these gifts towards the show

And please remember that anyone in blogland can enter any of the classes in the show if they wish

Over the years we have had blog winners in the craft section, homemade card section, knitting and photographic sections ...so have a look at the schedule at

http://trelawnydflowershow.blogspot.co.uk

An Atticus Finch Moment

* note....the comments that follow this blog are more interesting and moving-than the blog itself
Make sure you read them!

I've always thought that Harper Lee's " To Kill A Mockingbird" was an adult book for children. I say this because I have a feeling that although like many other people , I have re read the novel many times during my lifetime, I will never really forget reading it at school when I was a child of 12.
Mockingbird is essentially an exploration of childhood innocence and the moral nature of people. The children, Scout and Jem have to face the dark side of racism, bullying and the unfairness of small town life but do so under the wing of a father who is sympathetic to all. Atticus Finch is the father all children wish they had when they were twelve.
From what I can gather the theme of Harper Lee's second novel " Go Set A Watchman" is one of disillusionment, namely Scout's disillusionment in her father, who turns out to be as bigoted as most of the other inhabitants of Maycombe and although the " falling from grace" of a parent through the eyes of an adoring child is something that most people experience sometime in their lives, the toppling of Atticus from his pedestal seems a step too far.
I grew up with parents that disappointed me. It's seems a terrible thing to say but it was true. When I was twelve I ached for a father or mother like Atticus.

My parents were too wrapped up in their own issues to really be bothered with the moral dilemmas in side their kids' heads.
Having said this I do remember one Atticus moment amid a brown 1970s childhood.
I had gone to bed , but had got up to listen to a family discussion from the safety of the top of the stairs. The discussion was centred around someone known to the family who had been caught in a gay clinch so to speak and it is important to remember here that in the 1970s, this sort of thing was deemed rather shocking to say the least.
Amid the head shaking and the " shame" comments one voice proved to be the voice of reason and balance and that was the voice of my mother.
Like Henry Fonda's juror number 8, in Twelve Angry Men , she calmly stuck up for the person involved, patiently giving a human face to the whole situation and pouring oil on a very stormy sea.
Even at twelve , I remember being rather proud of her individual stand against a tide of small mindedness...and even at twelve I knew that she was right and they were wrong.

What was your Atticus Finch moment?
I'd be interested to Know!

Out Of Context

I felt compelled to blog again today after a chance encounter outside Halfords
I had just spent a bewildering half hour looking at lino at the carpet warehouse and was walking back to the berlingo when two teenage boys walked out of  the bike shop.
One of them looked vaguely familiar, though I couldn't place him, and as I passed , he said  " Hello" somewhat awkwardly and added " I'm sorry about your little dog"
Now although this completely flummoxed me, I smiled and politely said "  Thank you" before sort of doing that little dancing shuffle people do as they pass someone else on the pavement. He and his friend then edged away rather an embarrassed way and so did I, and I found myself wracking  my brains to remember exactly who he was .
Was he someone's son from work? Or a blog reader? I doubted it  but
It came to me as I got into the car.
He had been in the vet's office when I took Meg in to be put to sleep and I had been rude to him.
I didn't mean to be rude, I was just upset, but I was rude.
When I entered the examination room, the boy was standing to one side behind the rosy faced vet. He wore an ill fitting shirt and tie and looked uncomfortable. I immediately thought he was on some school placement .( we used to call them job creation places in my day) The vet didnt introduce him and I was more preoccupied with what was going to happen to be bothered to ask.
We discussed Meg and when it was time to give her the anaesthetic, the vet hurried Meg out to cannulate her in another room.
I knew the format for  I had done it already with Mabel, so I knew that both would return for the deed to be done, so I steeled myself for what was about to happen.
The boy just stood there. Too young to say something. Too awkward and unprepared to leave. The vet should have taken him with her, but she didn't and I couldn't bear him, a stranger, being in the same room with me and my tears so I turned to him and said a little too firmly " Can You please leave?" .
Bless  him, he shot out of that examination room like a rat up a drainpipe.

At the berlingo, I looked around to,see where he had gone to, but he had disappeared .
and I felt like crying all over again.

Trolls and Flowers

Going Gently has had it's fair share of internet " trolls" over the years. I tend to ignore them as their faceless, anonymous presence  brings the worst out in me. I have just seen the work of a troll on Cro's gently paced French country blog and I found myself responding to his/her stupidity by posting a rather satisfying but hollow threat of " if you say anything to me , I'll bitch slap you so hard that your tits will fall off"
Yes very articulate....

Anyhow, I have just collected 8 nominations for the " Best Garden In Trelawnyd " award for the Flower Show., and it's taken some flannel,to get people to enter.......unfortunately I could not persuade our neighbours Viv and Mike to enter, for their labour of love would win the competition every single year.
Yesterday, I took these photos .......I am going to enter a couple in the Flower Show's photo competition " spring/summer"

And finally a few more novelty veg entries