After a long gap. I'm still here at Bodyfuddau, getting older and more decrepit but coping. Only have one dog now, Silver. She's getting elderly too but still galloping a mile a day down the lane while I accompany her on a mobility scooter.
The sheep are all gone. Luki and Badger lasted till they were 18 which is pretty old for a sheep. When Oli had to tell Llinos that Badger was no more, she said sadly, 'That's the end of my childhood. isn't it. Badger had arthritis like me so went to live on the farm with Oli as it was dangerous for him here as he could not get out of the stream if he wandered into it and I couldn't rescue him. The last rime he did that Oli had to rescue him. He had a nice life though.
I think I may have to find another home for this blog as I am not quite sure where it is now.

Due to our wild Welsh weather and my state of health there is not a lot to report on the animal side. Having waited a year for some continuation in the treatment of my second knee and my right arm, both hospitals sent for me practically simultaneously. Fortunately, the summer festivals being  over, I could call on Emma for help. She had to commute as she and Phillip now have a year old son called Noah, a charming little boy. But she valiantly came up nearly every day to do the animals while I rattled back and forth in hospital transport between Ysbyty Gwynedd [Bangor] and Liverpool. Had my second new knee which like the first has been a great success. Only real problem was me rather than the knee and I am still somewhat groggy a lot of the time.
It didn't help that lightening struck our telephone [new dual one I had just bought] and there is still a peoblem. Emails don't work and only phone is a 30 year old bt one that I brought downstairs to the sitting room so that o can hear it and with luck get there before it stops. Spent some time in good nursing home. We are lucky around here in our medical services. The next thing is to get the arm done  -- cat can on friday and then preop in March. When the lightening struck Dyfi dog landed on my lap utterly terror struck. He is the biggest but also the greatest wimp of the three,
While I've been at home I have been investing in the services of an excellent jobbing carpenter to get various long outstanding jobs done. This had the double advantage that he [Pete] is quite in love with the wolf pack. as he calls my collies.

collies and gardening

Today for the second day running we actually have warm sunshine here in Snowdonia and I have even done a few minutes gardening at intervals. I bought a wonderful implement with a fairly long handle and a very sharp curved blade from a company called Elderberry who sell things for people with disabilities or sheer old age.  This thing has actually enabled my almost useless right arm to weed patches whose weeds I can then gather up with the left hand. Probably I'd better put some bits of wire fence on flower beds before Jess realises it's spring and decides to help.
This is her smiling. Yes, I do mean smiling, not snarling.

 I am in the process of writing a book of animal stories, pure fiction, unlike And Hereby Hangs a Tail which is true. All the tales concern a small border collie who doesn't like sheep, her dragon friend and her boss who is a poet.
This episode concerns gardening so I thought I'd post it.

THE FILIGREE SHEEPDOG DECIDES TO HELP

The poet had been busy in his garden. Now it was lunchtime.

He looked around his newly dug flower beds. The antirrhinums his friend had given him were all planted in a newly dug bed. He thought they would be lovely next year when they came into bloom. They would look really nice in front of the phlox he’d planted last year and which were growing well.

Now, he thought, it’s time for a nice cool drink and some lunch. Ffili followed him into the kitchen and put on her most hopeful look.

‘I suppose you want your lunch too?’ said the poet.

‘Yes, please.’ said Ffili.

The poet placed a nice bowl of meat and biscuit on the floor by her water bowl and Ffili tucked in enthusiastically.

When she’d finished and the poet had made his own lunch, he opened the door for Ffili.

‘Perhaps you’d better go out for a few minutes, little one,’ he said.

Ffili went out. I liked it better when it was wild and grassy, she thought. She eyed the fork that the poet had left stuck in the flower bed. Strange that people needed a thing like that for digging. She could do it much quicker with her paws. She decided to surprise him with a bit of help.

She started on the flower bed behind the new plants. He hadn’t dug that at all. Her little paws flashed in and out and the soil flew behind her. It was good fun, especially when she came to the plants. They were tougher than the earth and she had to dig hard to get the roots out. She’d noticed how the poet dug out a lot of grass and stuff, so she dug really hard and even pulled some roots out with her teeth.

When she thought she’d done enough, she went in to fetch the poet. He was sitting by the fire with his slippers on, but he followed her out to see what she was wuffing about.

All his lovely phlox plants were lying around the lawn in pieces and a good deal of the flower bed too.

He was surprised but definitely not pleased.

It is getting necessary to limit my livestock activities and gardening. The front garden has now been rationalised to the point where it is mostly lawn [if one can call it that when Silver has continued to wreak havoc in spite of my underlay of carpark netting!] and the only flower beds are around the edge. I'm trying to stock them with plants that can defeat weeds and don't need too much attention.
I had thought my are was recovering from the shoulder operation gradually but then it started getting worse instead of better. This was a bit alarning until the surgeon pointed out on the latest xray that I had broken my collar bone. So I am slightly mollified on the grounds that one could expect that to limit progress.

Meantime the animals are all well except my dear old Felix, who at the age of nearly 12 jumped the top wall and met his death. So now there are only two sheep.
The photo is Felix RIP in front, followed by Luki [left] and Badger [right].

I seem to have neglected this for best part of a year. It has been a complicated year. The recession has more or less put a stop to my language teaching so I have been selling books on Amazon. That has meant a lot of time checking, cleaning and listing books. Also Dog walking has taken more time, partly because my walking has deteriorated [had my 80th birthday in July] and partly because my dear Emma has not been able to walk dogs as she was heavily pregnant for sveral months. That has a happy ending -- the arrival several weeks ago of baby Noah.  The picture which hopefully will appear below this is Dyfi with emma's Rocky up on the mountain while Emma was still coming. Rocky is part bulldog and part Boxer and is very clever. This year he even noticed what Emma wanted when she was shepherding sheep out of a field preparatory to a game of ball and he took to doing it for her, and not a drop of sheepdog blood in him. Dyfi is wearing a muzzle in case they  encountered any sheep on the mountain; he is not to be trusted.

Emma is recovering from her caesarian and is hoping to get back to some dog walking soon. Rocky wants to see his friends.
Dyfi, meanwhile comes with me every morning to feed my three woolly pets. He stands outside the pigsty while I dish out shee- muesli. He is actually quite useful as without him Felix comes in and stanps on my heels with sharp-pointed hooves. The first day I fed them Badger had forgotten the routine and was inside the pig sty. Finding the way blocked by me and Dyfi he charged and I went on my back in the mud. By the time Badger had extricated himself from the dog lead he had also removed Dyfi's collar. I struggled to my feet yelling 'Paid!' [don't] and found Dyfi faithfully beside me and not giving chase. One virtual gold star for good behaviour.

Summer's End at Bodyfuddau

Wasn't much of a summer, was it? I quite enjoyed some of it as, at least when I could abandon the computer, I could do some gardening. I did have quite big areas in front of and behind the house. Behind was only accessible by either going right round the house and through several gates or through the archway where they used to keep the carts [and I used to keep my goat]. A small part of that is raised beds and slate paths but it has been taken over by a jungle of ras[pberries and tay berries, rhubarb and black currents so I leave it as it is and gather what i can. All the rest of the back is grass and is mown by pet sheep. I am in process of extending it to make a big playground for dogs, including training for Dyfi. The latter will happen more in the winter as I can then bribe the woollies into that area with food and make him behave in their vicinity. That's the plan anyway. I'm awaiting a nice big shed to keep dog agility equipment and grooming wherewithall.

The front I've kept as garden and, with an hour a week of help, I can more or less manage that and it has been quite pretty this year. The improvements included a rockery beside the front door and two weeks ago I was putting Dyfi's lead on before a walk when Silver ran full tilt into my feet, canoning me into the rockery face down so I have spent all that time eating only spahgetti, soup or bread with no crusts. Just got to managing marmelade with thin peel. Apart from such accidents I manage very well gardening now as, so long as I'm on the flat, I don't even notice the knee. My right arm is getting worse but I'm getting fairly adept at some things left handed.
Two photos give an idea of the front garden. One is my trellis after last winter's gales, showing also the state of the lawn after much circling by Silver, who runs in circles whenever excited [that's how come she collided with me]. The other is after resurrecting the clematis and putting green plastic mesh on the lawn for the grass to grow through. She still circles but only mows pathways, doesn't make excavations.

Sorry for the long gap. I have been hindered by many hospital visits of which I don't think you all need details. The final result is that I am now back home with a complete new knee and it is fast getting so much better that I'm beginning to forget how awful the old one was. Before the date for the new one arrived the old one bled into the joint and I had to be rescued by two very kind para-medics and spent the week in hospital on morphine with about a binbag full of ice round my leg. When they brought me back Welsh winter had kicked in and the ambulance just got up my lane and my front garden was an ice sheet I didn't dare walk on.
Fortunately Emma had been in residence ever since I went and she walked a 3 mile round trip in the snow every day to walk the collies and feed ducks and sheep.
Then at last I had the op. Managed to give 6 extra drakes to a good home the night before I left. To catch them one has to arrange for the recipient of ducks to come here at about dusk so that I can corrall them as they come in for their tea. Anyway I now have a more suitable little flock ready for spring but no one is laying. They haven't forgiven me for being kept in through two long periods of snow.
Emma moved back in while I was back in hospital and is still here most of the time, bless her, although I am now quite good walking about indoors and even outside a bit. Haven't risked walking dogs yet as Dyfi could chrge into me and dislodge crutches. The dogs are thoroughly enjoying Emma and her dog, Rocky. who is their bosom friend.
Picture of snow play. The one up above that isn't a collie is Rocky. He is bulldogxboxer and is exactly like a very small boxer with chopped of legs - very energetic.

Now I wonder if this site will let me post the collie one down here? Evidently not so see above.

Problem solved

At one point I was feeding about 30 full grown ducks but luckily the ladies at least are always in demand so two people came and collected a batch each and one had a drake as well. In order to catch them I have to close the gaps in the fence round the bit of their night time quarters when they have gone out and then shut the gate. At tea time when they are hungry I let them in and shut the gate again and then start catching. It is pandemonium. One by one I catch them, listen for a quack and hand females to the waiting buyer. Drakes only whisper which makes them ideal garden pets in built up areas where the neighbours would complain about quacking. I find that ducks of all kinds make excellent living garden ornaments and they eat slugs and snails. Above is a photo of the slug patrol.
After the first catching session a whole batch of them refused to come in for two nights but fortunately were not eaten by a fox.

a superfluity of ducks

This year my ducks managed to nest in the bog irises without my knowledge, It is such a jungle in the bog where they live at night that I can't see the eggs for leaves. Later I cut a lot of the greenery with a sickle but too late. One produced 8 babies and two ladies sharing a nest produced 10.. By the time they all grew up they were eating me out of house and home. Now, thank goodness, I have sold seven but the rest, finding the selection process [barring exit from feeding station, so traumatic that last night only the drakes and a couple of their more elderly wives came for tea. I don't think a fox has had any as there are no piles of feathers around. I just hope they will be hungry enough or forgetful enough to present themselves fot tea tonight.

Ducklings

Several ducks have found secret places to nest in the bog irises and one now has eight babies. They are two weeks old now and so far no losses. O have been carefully surveying the netting over their safe bog and mended all the possible crow entries I could find. The photo above is their first day. Mother made them wait till she was sure all were out of their eggs. Now if this works right the next photo should appear under the texts.
It's no good. It just won't upload the other duckling picture.

Duck update

The ducks have truly forgiven me for their winter incarceration and are inhabiting the garden like living garden ornaments.
The Muscovies have taken to exploring beyond my boundaries. I don't really approve as if she decides to nest secretly out there somewhere, she might get eaten and also I prefer to swap the eggs for normal duck eggs so that I don't have to find homes for about a dozen baby muscovies. My neighbour likes them going out on his land as ducks eat the snails that give sheep fluke. He calls them the fluke patrol.
One of the others is being a good girl and sitting in the prescribed place ie. in a box shelter down in their night time bog. There should be babies soon and then I'll post photos.

Spring has sprung

At last spring has come to Snowdonia. We have ewes popping lambs all over the place and the sun has been shining for a week. The field where of late I have been exercising the dogs has returned to its proper use as a maternity unit.

I'm teaching this week so don't have a lot of time but have managed to flatten the worst of Silver's ravages. Obviously it will require much deviousness to prevent her from reducing the lawn to a battlefield again. I have placed the dog jumps strategically across her original circle and will put some tubs of flowers at various points and move them as a new track starts appearing. At least she'll have pause and manoeuvre as she goes.
The ducks are enjoying life. One is sitting anf one Muscovy lady has vanished. I don't know if she has been eaten or found a nice secret place to nest. I hope the latter but wish she'd decided to do it inside the night time run.

Fixing paw damage at Bodyfuddau.

As the ground has actually thawed and a few daffodils are sprouting, my thoughts turn to the garden. The most urgent is to reclame the lawn I made last year and was so pleased with. Since Silver arrived she has, quite unconsciously, been turning my lawn into two circular race tracks as she zooms around in response to any excitement. The photo shows Silver looking innocent and wondering what all the fuss is about.

I bought some square grids that one can put just under the surface of the lawn in the worst mus spots. I have placed a few in the smaller race track round one of the raided flower beds with a large weldmesh on top till the ground settles a bit. Then I strategically placed a narrower section of weldmesh in a badly damaged bit of the large ciruit and filled below and above with earth and turf [retrieved fron Silver's attempt to build the great wall of China there. Now fingers crossed.

Ducks have relented

At last the remnants of the snow have gone from all the hills in the immediate vicinity and the sun has shone for several days.
One very welcome extra benefit of this is that the ducks have stopped sulking about the weather [they hate snow and will spend hours in the freezing stream rather than sit on it] and have started to lay. There is rejoicing all round as there are enough for friends who like them and also for me to sell at the market.
Also recently someone gave me another white drake who will hopefully turn out to be more effective than Sir Francis, who has not produced a single offspring in two years.
The gentleman in the picture above is long gone, not Sir Francis. This is Llewelyn and here follows a poem about him and his family,

Feathered Paternity

Llewelyn Fawr is very grand

And knows exactly how to stand

To look imposing,

Which is most important to a drake

Who needs the ladies to impress

And to have a harem

Of enthusiastic mother ducks

For future generations’ sake.

His feathers are a gleaming white

And his beak canary yellow.

His wings, though not in use for flight,

He cleans with infinite care,

Feather by flawless feather.

His feet are golden triangles

That plod majestic through the mud

Like shoes of magic leather.

His wives are speckly coloured

With sapphire in their wings.

Much of their day they spend

Hunting for interesting things,

Snails and slugs and such delights,

Until, in need of change, they wend

Their way to pond or stream, upend

Themselves and dabble there

For frog spawn, fish eggs, dainty bites

To be found in mud below, while

Feet wave freely in the air.

At night the ladies to their nests repair

And lay their eggs all white or green

And hide them under leaves and grass

From beady eyes of crows who pass,

Searching like spy planes from the air.

Then comes the day, one gets the urge

And snuggles down upon the eggs,

With beak on breast, deep in feathers,

And sits for weeks midst yellow flags

Oblivious of inclement weather,

Just waiting till she hears a peep,

And one by one small beaks emerge.

When all are free of broken shells and dry,

She leads them forth in one long line

To float upon the stream, chasing flies

Invisible to human eyes,

Flashing, dashing everywhere,

Propelled by tiny feet

Under mother’s watchful eye,

Turned skywards lest hawk or crow

Descend upon her little fleet.

Llewelyn past them softly glides,

Bursting with parental pride.

Wheels at last

For over a week I have had no car as mine decided to burn out all its electric wiring. The garage said it was so bad that it was not worth trying to repair it and that I was lucky the whole thing didn't go up in flames, me and the dogs included.
So all this time Emma has been coming up every day with her dog, Rocky, and running them all in the field. She can run and can throw a lot further than me. So they've had a great time, but I have been thoroughly frustrated.
Yesterday my friends took me to see a nice little white van and now I have wheels. As I am supposed to get down to Carmarthenshire for my book launch on Friday, this is a weight off my mind. Also the dogs will be able to go to the forest again. The back of the can is all metal so Silver will not be able to chew it.

Creature Comforts

Locally we have one email swapshop and one freecycle. Someone on the latter gave me an enormous carpet with underlay and
everything. They are going to have a wooden floor so the carpet was unwanted, practically new and very thick. The first peoblem
was that the people who were giving it to me needed it out of the way quickly and simultaneously with being offered the carpet I
got snowed in during our last serious wether problems. Clearly even if I could get out I couldn’t lift it into my trailer so I sent out
an SOS to Julian and co. Although they live practically at sea level, this time they were snowed in too. Fortunately the people
were understanding and as soon as the snow there permitted the ganf set out with a trailer and Twm’s beloved landrover. Thus
equipped they got up my lane and piled it all into the dining room.
When the weather finally let up the whole family came and laid the carpet in the sitting room, which is now luxurious. My feet
hardly know themselves. The dogs like it too, especially as I spent a good part of Christmas making nice soft covers for their
beds. The carpet is a plain light salmon colour, not suited to 12 muddy paws, but fortunately the dogs usually head for the other
end of the house where they expect to find me, so they mostly don’t go in there with muddy paws.
There was a lot left over and at first I thought of the dining room but then I thought that, since the layout of this house is such
that the dining room is the main thoroughfare for humans and dogs, that seems asking a bit much of such a nice clean carpet. So
Emma and Phil came up the other day and laid it in my study and I now have warm feet while I work.
In the picture above, Dyfi has been awoken from his post-field nap and is wondering why I suddenly need to take a photo. It is to
show a bit of the carpet but doesn’t really do it justice.

Some days later Emma and Phil came and laid the rest of the carpet in my study. Now that is cosy too. What's more, because the combination of underlay and carpet is so thick my office chair does not slide back when I heave myself out of it. Things are really getting better around this house,

Meet My Dogs

I have three border collies, Jess, Dyfi and Silver. They are all rescue dogs in various ways. Jess came to me because she was afraid of her owners toddler grandchildren and looked as if she might snap from sheer fear. She never did and has met plenty of children since, but rather older ones.
Dyfi came because a farmer gave him to me and I was foolish enough not to ask why he didn't want him. The reason soon became apparent as he is an inveterate sheep chaser. I have managed to teach him to behave with my three pets but can't trust him with other people's sheep. To go down the lane he wears a muzzle and is attached to Jess, whi is better behaved.
Silver was from a dog rescue place where she had been handed in as 'no good'. Actually she is very good with sheep but excessively nervous of the world in general.
Here are some photos of them

The snow is gone, thank heavens

I have now lost count of how often snow has had me incarcerated here this year. The lane to my house is notorious in certain spots for snow drifts. I always make sure in winter that I have enough food and fuel and, of course food for sheep, ducks and dogs. But the main problem is exercising three very energetic border collies. Since my arthritic knees can not begin to compete with their needs, I usually drive down the lane with them and go to the forest where they can run as I drive and look for branches for the fire. However, a snowed up lane puts paid to that idea. Even if the farmers clear the lane in part with a bucket on a fork lift, I can't stand and walk on ice. So the solution [a very cold one for me when the temperature was minus 6 or 7 in the daytime] was to take them into the nearest field, from which sheep were and are temporarily absent, and throw a ball for about half an hour at a time several times a day. This results in happy dogs but a frozen dog owner.

Now it's gone and I hope it stays gone for thisi year. I am hoping to get a new knee courtesy of the NHS which might make the prospect for next year less daunting.

Winning poem

My poem won first prize in the Writelink Spring Fever contest so I'm tickled pink.

Here it is

THE HOMECOMING [Promise of Spring]

“I’m sober,” he said, “and I love you.

Come home.”

And the pines on the mountain

danced with branches outspread

in a green ecstasy,

the birds sang Ode To Joy

and rebellious hope

flooded the sky and fields.

The forest flared

with green flames,

harps sang in every stream

and waterfalls thundered applause.

Homeward I sped

through Betws and Blaenau,

through Rhaedr reeling along

in a rusty old van

with wings on its wheels.

Over the Severn,

a fairytale drawbridge

hung from the heavens

on silver blue chains.

The motorway gleamed

in the moonlight and rain

and the city lights

seemed like spun gold

as I sped to my home,

just a house in a terrace

but now promised land;

the doors opened wide

and there he stood waiting –

with bottle in hand.

Introducing me

This is me as I appear as writer of the month on Ukauthors website for November

Born in 1932 in Kent [the bit that got swallowed up in Greater London]. Has been writing on and off all her life in between earning a precarious living mostly as a language teacher, and for 20 years running an international centre in Exeter – a spare time job that involved a 365 day working year, no money, impossible invitations to everywhere in the world and meeting an amazing variety of interesting people .
I moved to Wales in 1985 thus fulfilling a long cherished dream and now live in an ancient farmhouse in Cwm Prysor with two sheepdogs, four cats, three sheep and assorted ducks. I still teach [occasionally], paint and write. My adopted land seems to have reawakened my muse.

Here is my home page there http://www.ukauthors.com/modules.php?name=Your_Account&op=userinfo&bypass=1&uname=teifii

and here is my website with my books and collie dogs http://www.merilang.com