I'm having a glass of wine as I make a Christmas pressie list
I would love this if anyone can find it!
Sitting With Nelly
In 1979 I worked as a bank clerk in The National Westminster Bank in Rhyl.
It was a time when the " computers" were vast piano sized monstrosities hidden away in back room " machine rooms" and whereas now the branch has a staff of six or so, then there was a team of perhaps thirty people.
My first week there I was told to sit with Nelly.
It's seems an archaic, old fashioned system now, what with on line tutorials, mentorships and in service training, but it worked. You sat with a person " doing the job" and you watched.
Simples.
I have adapted this system with Mary, and apart from her habit of Winnie baiting , it seems to be working well.
The Nelly's are George and William. Two old dogs that refuse to be baited. Every night, when Mary is placed back into her crate in the kitchen, one of the dogs will be bedded next to her so every night we are not subjected to howling barks of a puppy feeling neglected.
Mary is walked alongside George, who is pedestrian and calm and when she is particularly overactive one sharp bark from him is all that is needed for her to back off and calm things down.
Old dogs teaching new tricks.
Mind you the " teachers" need their own break from time to time and this morning was a case in point. The overnight baby sitter was William last night. At 6 am, after their first walk, George took over baby sitting duty in the kitchen and William was allowed to have a break
And this is where he went.........
It was a time when the " computers" were vast piano sized monstrosities hidden away in back room " machine rooms" and whereas now the branch has a staff of six or so, then there was a team of perhaps thirty people.
My first week there I was told to sit with Nelly.
It's seems an archaic, old fashioned system now, what with on line tutorials, mentorships and in service training, but it worked. You sat with a person " doing the job" and you watched.
Simples.
I have adapted this system with Mary, and apart from her habit of Winnie baiting , it seems to be working well.
The Nelly's are George and William. Two old dogs that refuse to be baited. Every night, when Mary is placed back into her crate in the kitchen, one of the dogs will be bedded next to her so every night we are not subjected to howling barks of a puppy feeling neglected.
Mary is walked alongside George, who is pedestrian and calm and when she is particularly overactive one sharp bark from him is all that is needed for her to back off and calm things down.
Old dogs teaching new tricks.
Mind you the " teachers" need their own break from time to time and this morning was a case in point. The overnight baby sitter was William last night. At 6 am, after their first walk, George took over baby sitting duty in the kitchen and William was allowed to have a break
And this is where he went.........
Hero
It's 60 years since Rosa Parks refused to get up out of her bus seat for a white man
Her strength of spirit is still wonderfully inspirational
Bleeding Fat Flaps
The cottage smells strongly of TCP.
The casualty?
Winnie's fat flaps.
At least once daily since she arrived Mary has delighted in swinging herself around by Winnie's facial fat flaps.
Winnie, a veteran of a dozen puppies or so, has so far put up with this dreadful and obviously painful activity with amazing alacrity. So much so, that even the Professor ( who is not a big bulldog fan) will hastily intervene when a particularly large mouthful of face has been dragged about the living room by needle sharp little teeth for what he deems to be an excessive amount of time
Today I felt some TCP and TLC was in order and Winnie was asked to lie on the sofa, in order for me to assess the damage.
Winnie secretly loves this attention and I haven't seen so much drama queen activity since The Professor found a headless rabbit corpse at the foot of the stairs.
With her left paw held aloft she will moan ever so gently as I tab away at her sore bits, occasionally opening her eyes to check if and when another dab was on the cards, so much so that when it finally arrived she would lick her lips noisily in contentment.
If, however, I was slow at administering the aforementioned swab, then she would wiggle a pudgy outstretched paw in a frantic circle , a signal for me to hurry up and get on with things.
She was obviously enjoying herself.
That was half an hour ago, and she is still lying on the couch now, her head thrown back on the cushions like Scarlett O'Hara after a busy night.
Divas........two in one small cottage....its somewhat crowded.
Mid Season Finale TWD
The first four episodes of The Walking Dead have been crackers. The last four slightly less so, and I think the problem the show right now is that there is at least 30 characters to deal with, rather than the usual 15 or so.
Subsequently the show suffers from judicial editing ( to reduce the storyline to the manageable 50 minutes ) and the absence of liked characters for long stretches of time.
Out of the new characters , I kinda like the scared little boy Sam ,the boy that spends his life hidden away with his toys in fear of monsters, the best .With his bad hair and bad complexion he is a baby Eugene in the making and his relationship with the scarred Carol Could be a wonderful storyline if the scriptwriters had enough time to explore it.
Sam loves Tiny Tim " tiptoe through the tulips"
I doubt they will, as the last time we see the little tyke is him mouthing " mom" after a small group of Alexandrians are surrounded by walkers in the last seconds of the show.
So Sam is a gonner , and hopefully so are a score of the more boring characters ( Eric, Olivia, Jessie, Ron, Enid , Father " Yawn" Gabriel and Morgan ) natural selection within the cast.........a necessary evil in order to let the others shine a little more .
And so as we head towards the second part of the season in February ( February!!!!!!!) lets have less characters and more drama...the remaining actors we have are quality material.
Is this the new Negan?
He's rather attractive !
Testosterone
Sometimes a man's gotta do, what a man's gotta do.
He has to flex his caveman muscles to protect his home and family from the elements .
He has to collect his tools and bang nails into wood!
He has to unleash his masculinity and ingenuity
with carpentry skills that old pioneers of the far West used to build their
log cabins and repair waggons on their historic journey across the prairies.
With blistered hands and sweaty brows, men have had to ignore tiredness and sleep deprivation
The job just has to be done!
Yeap.........you've guessed it
I've not only gone and replaced the broken cat flap!
Way to go big guy!
A Catch Up With Auntie Gladys
The wind can roar up the valley from the West with terrific force.Our little group of five houses are located at perhaps the lowest and most sheltered part of Trelawnyd whereas the dwellings up High Street and beyond face the full force of the elements.
This morning the only person out in the gales was Auntie Glad. I caught her battling her way to church and managed to stop her along London Road to remind her that the service was in Dyserth today. She was annoyed that she had forgotten.
I have not seen Gladys for several weeks, so after taking the dogs home I called around with a few mince pies wrapped in foil and she reminded me as soon as I arrived that I was late booking a Flower Show Committee meeting . " We need to crack on" she chided me gently.
We can all learn a great deal from people like Gladys. She is a woman who takes joy from simple things. The table around which we sat was spotlessly clean as was every small red tile on the kitchen floor. A pork chop , roast potatos and veg smelled lovely from the aga's warming oven and although she probably couldn't see them clearly, a small bunch of flowers sat cheerfully on the windowsill.
It is a kitchen I remember from my early childhood. It is a grandmother's kitchen.
We chatted for a while.
We booked the committee meeting and she told me of her forthcoming holiday to Llandudno for a five day " turkey and tinsel " break.
She complemented The Prof on his powerful readings in Church and she told me about her grandson's new home " somewhere near London" but most of the conversation was centred about our news and our lives.
It's that "interested" nature that keeps her so vital.
She posed for an official Flower Show Committee photo which will take centre place in the publicity posters of Next Year's Show whilst telling me of some friend's invitation to have her visit over Christmas.
" They insisted that I go" she laughed, " They really want me to be there" and as she smiled and clapped her hands at the prospect, I didn't doubt that fact for an instant.
The wind up the willows
The wind is whooshing through the cottage with a vengeance as Scary Mary, in a fit of wanton destruction , has demolished the friggin cat flap.
The place is like a friggin wind tunnel what with these ice cold Westerlies shooting through our passages
I'll buy and fit a new cat flap tomorrow....I cannot face another shop today. On night shift.
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