Hi,

I’m really sorry, the second week in a row where I’m not going to be able to hand you the Blitherings in person. Last week it was because we had a whole department meeting, this week it’s because of me. I have a problem with the nerves in my face, its called Trigeminal neuralgia, and every so often I have to get treatment for it and that every-so-often is now. It’s going to take about 3 weeks for the treatment to start working, but I will carry on sending you the services and the Blitherings and I will let you know when I am back. I hope you are all back on the wings and where you should be, that you have all recovered from the various illnesses and bugs that are going round and that you’ve all started your ‘3 good things’.

This week I have had to get all the paperwork sorted in time for the XL bully ban, so it seems like the right time to introduce you to Clyde. I’m sure you’ve seen all the awful stories about dangerous dogs and in particular XL bullies. Some of them look really scary, I will admit but Clyde didn’t get the memo about being scary. Clyde is a 14 stone cane corso. He’s huge! When he stands in the kitchen it’s like sharing the space with a small donkey. But he has a guilty secret and I’m about to share it with you…he’s afraid of dachshunds!

Clyde belongs to a family who come to stay with us at times. He is a complete sweetheart with only one problem…. He looks at Dilys, my mini sausage dog, as if she is a mirror. He thinks he is the same size as her, so he climbs up onto my lap as if he weighs the same as her. He doesn’t!! He is fourteen stone! That is a lot of dog to be sat on a lap, believe me. He also likes to give kisses and his tongue is bigger than my

face.

Last time he came to stay with us Dilys was asleep in the basket by the stove in the kitchen and Clyde decided to investigate. He tiptoed up to the basket and sniffed….he tiptoes a bit like a hippopotamus would if it was on stealth-mode (not very tiptoe-y) and Dilys wasn’t fooled. Dilys stuck her snoot out of the blanket and snarled….when I say she snarled, if you saw her it would make you laugh. She only reaches Clyde’s ankles and she is pretty much completely blind. She’s so lazy that the most energetic thing she does is eat her food…and, it seems, snarl at Clyde, but he’s more likely to be knocked out by her doggybreath than he is to be hurt by her teeth.

But Clyde was terrified. Clyde did one of those bugs bunny runs where all his legs were in panic mode and he couldn’t run away fast enough. He ran away from the scary dachshund as fast as his panicking legs would carry him and hid behind the settee. The dachshund nose retreated back under the warmth of the blanket.

Now Clyde had a huge dilemma. He knows he is a lap dog and it’s important to sit on laps to maintain his reputation. I was sat on the settee, lap empty, all ready for a Clyde…at least that’s what Clyde thought. But between the lap and him is the scariest, hugest dragon. So Clyde crept up the arm of the sofa, along the back of the settee, watching very carefully to check that the nasty dachshund didn’t see him. He crawled round, with his eyes closed, pretending he wasn’t there til he landed with a galumph on my lap. Wow!! He weighs a ton! Every time Dilys thought about it she growled in his direction and Clyde shook and closed his eyes so the sausage dog couldn’t see him. Now we are wondering which of these two needs registering with the Dangerous Dogs Act and think it’s probably Dilys because of her breath.

This week my son has been moving a muck pile for a farmer so we can spread it on our land to improve the soil and help the hay grow. As you can imagine, Mali was uninvited to that activity…can you imagine the baths she would need after that?! While he was moving it he came across this…a nest of baby rats.

Hopefully the muck will give us a good crop of grass this year to cut into hay. We usually turn the bales that are on the headlands and under the trees, that don’t dry as well, into haylage… those are the big round bales that are wrapped in plastic. The ones that are from the open field and dry better are left as hay. Once the muck is spread onto the field and the fields have dried up a bit, my son will harrow the fields. For those who haven’t met a harrow before, it is an evil looking 10ft spiky implement that you tow behind the tractor which removes dead vegetation and allows the air to get into the soil. My son loves harrowing. He gets to drive up and down the fields for hours with Mali, listening to music or podcasts… nothing more complicated than that, and the fields look so much better afterwards.

Last week was a flat-out busy one, my middle daughter had an assignment to do and I had to drive her round to sort out all her research, drive down to her college to pick up the work she forgot to bring with her, talk to the people who were contacts of mine to explain what she needed and ask if they were prepared to help her. All sorts of things that took a lot of time. Then I had to sort out ‘essay snacks’, constant cups of herbal tea, persuade her away from coffee (because if she drinks too much coffee she won’t sleep for weeks). She did a couple of all-nighters and the her piece of work was done. She’s now gone back to college to start on the next term’s work.

It’s going to be very odd not coming into Berwyn to see you all for a few weeks. I will send the service sheets in and I hope you get them. When I get back I have some good news about resources for our group and some outside support from a real Rastafari chaplain!!

Blessings,

Elizabeth