where art collides

The bug house is being installed today. The one Joe gave THG for Christmas. When I say installed we are going to find a suitable place for it in the garden and I will screw it to the fence or simlar. Never let it be said we are not hospitable to insects. In fact I have 100 sqm of wildflower mix ready to plant/scatter in front of the shed in the spring which will obviously attract more insects. They can gorge on the pollen and retire to the bug house to sleep it off. What’s not to like?

Today I will be very focussed on packing my big yellow duffel bag and my Stubble & Co Adventure Bag. Everything is pretty much ready to go in, mostly in packing cubes but some loose stuff. It is v exciting but tempered by the fact that I will be leaving THG behind for sixteen days. Likely to be the last time I do this.

The low winter sun is quite dazzling in the kitchen. We do have blinds but I can easily just shift position on the pew. We have a church pew along one side of the kitchen table, up against the wall. You actually need a decent sized kitchen to accommodate a pew as they are quite long. Ours is anyway. It is the most popular place to sit. Very solid and comfortable on the backside. That’s the result of a couple of hundred years of faithful devotion.

As I write the cricket in India is getting v exciting. I’ve not been watching it as we weren’t looking like doing very well (yes, fairweather fan) but the last innings has changed things completely. India are one hundred and twenty for seven with one hundred and eleven required. It’s on TNT Sports channel which took me a moment or two to find. These days you need multiple channel subscriptions to watch sport.

Plenty of seats free in the ground if you are in the Hyderabad area and want to drop in. Better get a wiggle on though. Brilliant leg spin from Hartley. Leg spinners are a rare breed. Got a couple of days at the Windies Test Match in Trent bridge this summer. I’m a member. Let me know if you would be interested in coming on the Saturday. 

The Windies have just beaten the Ozzies so could be an exciting game. Had lunch with Sir Viv Richards quite a few years ago. Remember that @Umar? Bought two tickets in a charity auction at a sportsman’s dinner for two hundred and fifty quid. A steal I thought. Couldn’t understand why nobody wanted them. He is one of the all time greats. We were sat on his table. A privilege and a memorable day out.

Gotta go. Ciao amigos.

T-2

I hitchhiked to Paris a couple of times when I were a lad. Nowadays I go there using slightly faster and more luxurious means. I like Paris. I like the pavement cafe culture. I remember Paris in forty nine, the Champs Elysees and old St Michel Beaujolais wine. 

THG and I had a great weekend there in the early days of our relationship. Stayed in Hotel Avenir, a small two star dive near Montmartre, down the hill. We took with us fifty quid’s worth of spending money, twenty of which was spent in the first bar we went to! We was poor in them days. Perhaps lacking in worldly wisdom. We got by.

Been to Paris quite a lot over the years. Fifteen of us went there for the rugby world cup, last time it was in France, before 2023 that is. We camped in the Bois De Boulogne. Probably the best rugby tour I’ve been on. Tom, at fifteen, came along with three other lads the same age. A great baptism into touring culture.

Then we went there to watch my siblings, Ann and Sue, finish the London to Paris bike ride. Rather them than me. I couldn’t see myself sitting on the saddle of a bike for four days let alone doing all that pedalling. On one day they cycled one hundred kilometres into a 30 kmh headwind. Brutal. 

We took dad with us on the trip and it was the time we discovered he really was not that mobile anymore. Dad and I spent a wonderful afternoon sat at a table outside a cafe in Montmartre having lunch and working our way through a couple of bottles of vin blanc. It’s what dads and sons do. It was easier for us to just sit there than to walk around seeing the sights.

After that dad and I did a dad and lad trip around Wales in my Jag. Visited all his old haunts. Great week if v tiring as by then his lack of mobility was a known issue. Met my uni pal Dave the Rave for a few sherberts in The Ship in Dolgellau, I recall. Anne joined us at the end of the trip in the Black Boy in Caernarfon. Dre. Dad used to work in Caernarfon.  Going back a bit now.

The moral of this tale is that dads are important. Spend as much time as you can with them. Mums too obvs.

Dunno what made me think about Paris. We are off there for the Olympics this year. Figured we might as well. Do stuff. That bus is a’coming.

It has been my custom and practice to spend time with individual offspring. Just me and he or she. The last of the cycle is coming up next week. When there are just the two of you you can do things that don’t make sense when the whole family (of six) is there. 

I recall Hannah and I going to the opera in Barcelona to hear a world famous tenor. Rolando Villazon though I might be wrong. Time plays tricks on the memory. Gran Teatre del Liceu. The tickets were around £250 each. This wouldn’t have happened if there were six of us.

It was a very hot evening and an old lady kept fluttering her fan to cool off. Unfortunately  this caused a repetitive clicking sound which was really distracting and detracted from the music. It took a lot of diplomatic persuasion by a number of us at the interval to get her to stop. It was still one of those world class nights. 

I have some fave restaurants in Barcelona. Los Caracoles, Xalet de Montjuc and the really cool Betty Ford bar. If you go to Los Caracoles ask for a table next to the kitchen. It’s a great atmosphere. Must take THG there someday. To Barcelona that is. She hasn’t been.

Did you know Suzie? Helluvagal. Dim llaeth heddiw os gwelwch yn dda.

T-5. Everything under control. 

…

Just cleaned the cobwebs from around the cctv camera in the front. Was annoying the hell out of me with false positive movement detections when it was just a bit of spider web swaying in the wind. Made finding out what time the milkman came a lot harder as I had to trawl through the whole night’s footage. Will be a lot easier now 🙂

I have downed tools for the evening. Been quite a busy day yanow. My new book arrived and I’ve already read half of it: “Christmas Evans – no ordinary preacher”. Had forgotten I’d ordered it so it was a nice surprise when it came. 

I am very interested in the history of religious dissent in West Wales so this was a bit more background reading and especially relevant as old CE used to preach at the Baptist chapel founded by my 4xG grandfather. They would have known each other. JP Davies, another relative of mine, was also quite famous on the circuit a generation after CE. JP’s dad was the rector of Llandysul or similar and wrote him out his will when he realised he had left the established church.

So tonight neither THG nor I have anything lined up. She will undoubtedly spend the evening creating things. She is a very talented craftswoman, if such a thing is a term. I plan on listening to music and writing. Some of this afternoon was spent packing my big yellow duffel bag. It is mostly done. Eighty percent perhaps. 

This needs doing well in advance as I will be away for sixteen days. That means sixteen sets of underwear plus spares, shirts etc. We won’t have much of an opportunity to do laundry and I’m blowed if I’m going to give it to a hotel to do. Reality is we won’t be stopping anywhere long enough to do that anyway. It’s mostly shorts and t shirts anyway with a token nod for the British weather en route to the airport.

This trip is going to have periods of downtime and thus opportunities to record my thoughts. And experiences, which I am expecting to be spectacular. Not quite like being a Victorian traveller who might stay in one place for weeks just to take in the view as it took so long to get there.

I like the idea of owning a big yellow duffel bag. It doesn’t have wheels which is a bit of a disadvantage but I’ll just have to use airport carts. Big yellow duffel bags are cool. I bought it because I’ve lost my big black North Face duffel bag. Now I have no idea how anyone goes about losing a duffel bag. I can only think I must have left it somewhere but it would have to have been empty otherwise I’d have noticed that some clothes had gone missing. I dunno.

Anyway I am very happy with my big yellow duffel bag. Reminds me of Joni Mitchell. Big Yellow Taxi. Not because it has anything to do with either, it’s just cool. Not black or blue or grey. It’s yellow and it’s cool. 

It will stand out on the airport luggage carousel. Would be quite annoying if everyone else realised how cool it is to have a big yellow duffel bag and went and bought one. It’s not gonna happen obvs but it would be annoying if they did. I’d need to rethink my luggage strategy.

Actually I didn’t buy the big yellow duffel bag to stand out. I just liked it. These days I just do things I like doing. Life is too short to fill it with badness, tedium, greyness. Don’t be grey.

In some respects I wish I’d adopted that stance decades ago. From the get go really. Sometimes these things just reveal themselves over time, with experience. Don’t fly coach fly first class. Life is too short to fly at the back of the plane and doing so undoubtedly shortens it further.

Another thing I learnt some time ago is to trust your gut feel, your instinct. That’s what I instil in my kids. Bet on yourself. I have always written poetry from time to time. I used to keep quiet about it and then decided sod it, I don’t care what people think. So I entered a competition at the Poetry Society only to find that there were seventy thousand entries. I didn’t win. I read the winning poem and realised that it was an establishment pick.

That was the moment I decided that the only way to do it was to publish it yourself which is where philosopherontap came in. It didn’t matter to me what people thought about my poetry. I did it for myself. Ok actually it is nice of people say they like your stuff but ultimately it doesn’t matter. From time to time I buy someone else’s poetry book to support them but really I don’t read the poetry. It is a very personal thing that people do for themselves.

One thing that amazed me when I started to talk about my poetry was how many people wrote poetry themselves but kept quiet about it. People from all walks of life. I once invited a lot of folks to our house for a poetry evening.There was no shortage of takers. Some just brought their fave poems along but we had a great evening reading and listening to poetry. I must do it again.

Apparently the sky beyond the shed was red this morning but I missed it. Because it is no longer red I don’t suppose that means it is going to be nice weather. Haven’t checked and don’t plan on doing so. Let’s live life on the edge. Twould be funny if, when walking back from the shed, I was swept into the air unexpectedly by the hurricane that the sky was trying to warn me about earlier. Shoulda looked on the app 🙂

I digress. From what, I know not. It’s not as if I sit down and write this stuff with any purpose other than the fact that I like doing it. 

Our house seems to be full or relaxing sounds this morning. Actually I’m not sure that “Thought for the Day” on Radio 4 is relaxing. Dull, more like and it is the prompt for me to get up. The dishwasher in the kitchen is very much relaxing. Soft background whooshes. Almost like being stood at the photocopier in the “old days”. Does anyone still do that?

The upshot is I am sat in the kitchen swigging, nay sipping a cup of tea after which I shall risk walking to the shed.

54 68 65 20 6D 69 6C 6B 6D 61 6E 20 64 6F 65 73 6E 27 74 20 63 6F 6D 65 20 6F 6E 20 54 75 65 73 64 61 79 73

T-7

Storm Isha did its stuff but the kids got away without too much disruption. Tom will have benefitted from some delay repay by LNER, fair play. Sometimes I’m ok with delay repay as, if the delay is over an hour, you get your money back completely. If all you are doing is sitting on the train listening to music and drinking gin or doing some werk then it’s norraproblem really. I guess if you have a connection to make or a meeting to go to it can be a nuisance.

There was one occasion where I was on my way home on the nineteen oh six, the last direct train, and we stopped outside Collingham for an hour for some reason or other. There were only two or three of us in the first class coach and the attendants had nothing to do so we (I) were plied with drink and informed that if I didn’t finish off the bottle of wine it would only get thrown away. The wine is pretty pants on LNER but it was a gift horse. Party time.

Fortunately I don’t have to drive after the train gets into Lincoln. Delay repay might not have the same allure if I did.

It is still v windy out. Nice and sunny though. A good drying day as THG would put it. In fact she did. Interesting that some people never dry their clothes on the line. Perhaps they don’t have an outdoor space. They always smell a lot nicer than if dried in a tumble drier and it is certainly a lot cheaper.

The milkman came at an early three sixteen ey em. Clearly wanting to get his week off to a good start.  I guess Mondays are a days to be rolling your sleeves up and getting on with the week. I suppose. This is my last week at home for a while so have quite a bit to do meself.

T-8

Great day out in Leicester. Tbh Leicester the place was windswept and freezing cold. It isn’t in my top list of destinations even in the summer. Leicester is an historic place though and we did spot one mediaeval looking gaff in town. Then around the corner loomed a castle-like structure that turned out to be a prison. We moved on.

At the ground it took us a couple of laps around the block before we identified our car park. Had to stop and ask a bloke in a high viz jacket in the end. We had a spot in Leicester College car park right next to the Welford Road stadium, fair play. Except it isn’t called that any more. It is Mattioli Woods stadium. Wealth management company apaz. Woteva.

So the only real reason for anyone to want to go to Leicester is to watch sport. Rugby, cricket or football, when Liverpool are visiting otherwise I’d not bother. In fact I’ve never been to either the football or cricket ground there.

Leicester were up against Leinster in the European Cup. Tbh the odds were stacked against them as the visitors are mostly Irish rugby internationals and Leicester were walloped despite putting up a good resistance and scoring the first try. 

For Tom and I it was just a nice day out. We are both Irish passport holders and were ok with Leinster winning. Our seats were top dollar jobs near the half way line and directly  accessible by an internal corridor from the Chairman’s Lounge where we partook of excellent hospitality. Good nosh and plenty of staff at hand to bring beer to the table. Even had a nice couple called Fiona and Mark sat next to us.

We were treated to a bit of a talk by Chris Ashton,  Anthony Watson and Nick Dolly before the game. Not heard of Nick Dolly but that’s probs just my ignorance. Both Nick and Tony were injured hence their availability to chat.

The one non positive observation on the day was the presence of four guys on a corporate jolly sat directly behind us in the row above. They couldn’t stop talking about business. “We have a 51% success rate with pitches”. Very good mate. He also told the stand that his school was a rugby playing school but he never got picked for the team. Blamed it on his asthma. Get well soon I say. Didn’t stop him rabbiting on non stop for almost the whole game and when he got tired or ran out of things to say someone else kicked in. Always catches the 06.57 for his daily commute into London apaz. Loser. It didn’t spoil our day 🙂

Tom drove back and I managed to stay awake for the whole journey. 

T-9 – now into single figures.

Exciting day ahead. Leicester Tigers v Leinster Lions with our Tom. Gonna get there early to make the most of the experience. No doubt I’ll stick a pic or two up. Might even buy Tom a scarf. It’s his birthday present. I’m that kind of dad 🙂

Fortunately the temperature is nudging up. I read somewhere that Lincoln City were still defrosting part of their pitch in advance of today’s game against Derby City. Should be ok.

In other news I see that Doja Cat is to headline Coachella. What a great name. In 2024 we are truly in the realm of science fiction. The world is growing ever more surreal. Doja Cat. Had to say it again. The inaugural Coachella in 1999 had Beck, Rage Against the Machine and Tool as headliners. Almost boring by comparison.

Let’s face it. If a musician has become famous in the past thirty years there is a fair chance I won’t have heard of them. One of our kids works for Live Nation as a project manager. I have very rarely heard of any of the bands he works with. The development of my music tastes dramatically slowed when four kids arrived on the scene. Unless you consider Wheels on the Bus to be where it’s at. Willoughby wallaby wustin, an elephant sat on Justin.

Having four kids did allow me to read some classy books that I had not touched since my own childhood. Just William specifically springs to mind. Also a few new books became classics. Ivor The Engine. Swallows and Amazons. All time greats really. I did reread the Famous Five but tbh they were too corny. I used to devour them when I was a kid. Times change. None of my kids took to them.

In the meantime time to get cracking on breakfast. Need a hot meal in us before hitting the road for the icy wastes of Welford Road.

It is a Saturday. THG bought some milk yesterday to last the weekend. T-10

Good session in the shed last night. Had some neighbours around. One of them is about to become a grandad. THG asked me how the pregnancy is coming along. Erm. Tbh I have no idea what we talked about. Not babies. Definitely wood as I was showing off my new wood recognition book. @rob thought he already had a copy of it somewhere. Birds of a feather… 

Bit of clearing up required this morning before doing anything. The shed always seems to need a tidy. Non stop innit. It’s like the Forth Bridge always needs painting.

A nice frosty start to the day. Cars will need scraping before they can go anywhere. It’s the kind of frost you imagine Thomas Hardy would write about as his main character walks down the country lane bound for Mr Threshborough’s cottage. Or similar. Mr T needs dropping in on occasionally just to check up on him, yanow.

If I can get showered and dressed before the frost starts to fade I’ll take some pics. Add them to the tens of thousands of other photos on my drive that rarely get seen. The temperature is set to climb to a heady three or four degrees today. Almost shorts weather.

The Red Arrows are out practising. I hear them but rarely see them. Given up running out to take a look as they are invariably just dots in the distance by the time I get out there.

We cancelled today’s milk delivery. T-11

…

Du lait, doolay. Just sayin. Ditez moi pourquoi pas?

…

Storm Isha is on it’s way apaz. I say ‘it’ because I’m not sure whether Isha is a him or a her although my gut feel says her. Regardless of sex Isha is a comin and those in its path should batten down their hatches.

The funny thing is I doubt anyone reading this actually has a hatch to batten down. Unless you are of a particularly nautical persuasion in which case hello sailor 🙂Actually I know @Adam, @Graham, @Tim and @Nina have boats but Nina doesn’t live in the UK and Isha may be of no concern to her. Adam, Graham and Tim make sure your hatches are battened down. Sorry if I missed someone out. Get battening.

I quite like going for a sail but boat owning is not for me. Unless it is a little day boat for pootling around the Isle of Man but even then we don’t go there often enough to merit having one. We live too far from any decent port. Better to just hire a boat with a crew and spend your time lolling about at the stern taking photographs of the wildlife and looking for basking sharks, dolphins and killer whales. Careful what you wish for. 

Dear Facebook

I have enough warm socks, sweaters and coats and don’t need any more. Certainly not this season. I also have around five or six woolly hats so definitely don’t need any more of them. I realise you haven’t been pushing me ads for hats/beanies and now will but it is a risk I’ll take and doesn’t really matter in the great scheme of things.

My Wales rugby jersey style Fatface sweatshirt is on its way. It’s been ordered anyway. In a sale. I saw it in Abergavenny but they had limited size options in the store so ordered it online after seeing an ad on Facebook. So some of the ads are relevant!

I’ll be away for the first two weekends of the 6 nations but will be watching the first game at least in a bar. There is unlikely to be a tv at our location for the second game and I doubt I’ll need anything as warm as a sweatshirt. Maybe for the journey.

Temperature is still sub zero outside. Over breakfast THG and I observed that we were fine in our centrally heated double glazed house but our parents’ generation started off in different circumstances. Dad was born in Maesdulais, just outside a mining community in West Wales in 1934. In the family woollen mill to be precise but his father was a miner. The wool industry went into decline after the first world war so the next generation had to find employment elsewhere and locally, coal mining was the main alternative.

On a morning such as this my grandmother would have got up early to light the range and cook breakfast for my grandfather before he left for the pit in darkness. They moved to a small cottage built by her father opposite the pit in Blaenhirwaun so he didn’t have to walk far.

I remember staying in the cottage in winter as a kid. You really had to psych yourself up to get out from underneath the blankets in the morning. Breath would freeze. Don’t really have the problem nowadays although we all like to stay cosy under the duvet innit.

In our kitchen a pan of THG’s finest homemade soup sits on the stovetop ready to be warmed up for lunch. Perfect for this weather.

No milk was spilt in the production of this post.

T-12

PS the pic is of a painting of the Maesdulais woollen mill, known as “y ffatri” picked up by dad somewhere along the way. The artist has applied some license as I’m told the wheel was not originally in that position.

PPS my grandmother survived her husband by perhaps forty years. After his death she got free coal delivered for the rest of her life. Would have made a big difference.

I’m told there is a forty percent chance of snow at seven ey em. It is early yet but right now my spies tell me precipitation has not yet started. It is typical, if we do get snow, that my car, which would be very well suited to cope with such weather, is still at the menders awaiting a part. I don’t think it will snow. Most of the ‘weather’ is north of us.

THG is off on a train to meet some old uni pals this morning. Looks like the trains are running OK.

Today I have swimming booked for three pee em. Went on Sunday and the pool was rammed but it isn’t the same demographic mid afternoon during  the week. You can tell that Sunday afternoon swimmers are not regulars as some of them lack understanding of pool etiquette. Moreover there was only one lane swimming slot available at the weekend so every man and his doggy paddle will have been there. Fortunately I can be more flexible. The temperature outside is sub zero. The pool is heated so should be OK 😀. 

The heating is on and we are tucked up cosily under the duvet. Stay warm everyone and spill no milk.

…

I’d like everyone to close your eyes, turn your face to the sun and soak in the warmth. The decision of the day is which tee shirt to wear. Breakfast on the terrace or by the pool?

There is no rush to decide. The weather dictates a relaxed approach to the day. Maybe open the garden gate to the beach and take a plunge first. The sea is just the right temperature. If you stand still in the water little fish swim around your legs.

That is all.

…

The sky over the allotments is mildly pink. I am hoping this is no warning of stormy weather approaching across the Atlantic, hearing the news from the US Presidential Elections this morning. I’ve said this before but I wish there was a way to screen out certain subjects from your media listening. It isn’t practicable to just not hear any news.

…

A few small snowflakes have slowly danced their way into the back garden. Presumably the front too. I couldn’t hand on heart call it a flurry. If the temperatures were a little higher it would be a fine drizzle, mist almost.

Still it makes me feel good, snug as I am, in the comfort of the shed. I donned my Himalayan gear to cross the lawn but now discarded. Will need to retog when I need a tea refill.

The deck is gradually whitening. This must be an optical illusion as the Met Office is saying no snow in Lincoln. 10% chance. It is quite melancholy really, knowing that this is not going to last. 

There is a scenario where the snow fell so quickly that it was impossible to make it back from the shed to the house. I have supplies: gin, brandy and whisky, heat, a nice thick blanket and connectivity. However there is no food. Don’t think deliveroo would be able to make it.

I’d have to make a judgement call before the snow became impenetrable and plough my way back to the house. There is an 18th Bailgate Scout Group committee meeting tonight. They will expect me to be able to make it, being Chairman an all. They being scouts an all.

T-14

A very low sun barely made it above the back fence as I walked to work after breakfast. Left the heating on in the shed last night knowing that the overnight temperatures would fall below zero. As a result the interior of the shed is very comfortable from the get go. Fortunately it is dry so no ice. Yet.

Took a load of logs and kindling into the house last week but ended up not lighting the fire so that is what I will do this afternoon. It only needs to last until eight thirty pee em which is when THG and I watch University Challenge, in another room.

It is actually a lovely winter’s day outside. The kind of day where you would take the kids for a walk in Chambers Farm Woods or Whisby Nature Reserve. Frost on your breath. Glowing cheeks. Wrapped up warm. Always assuming it wasn’t a school day which it is today.

Long shadows cast by the trees above the shed. On a day like this it feels totally right that I managed to stack the logs into sensible piles. They aren’t piles per se. They are tidy row upon tidy row.

Sat in on the Monday morning meeting. Again. It’s just that I feel like rolling my sleeves up today. In fact as I write I’ve just left the meeting. Dull. I do have quite a bit of stuff to be getting on with so that’s what I plan on doing. Even had a shave wtf! Ready for action.

Had to make a second pot of tea for the shed. The milk I put in the mug was off so started again. Just a small pot. The milkman came at four fifty nine ey em this morning. There are currently five pints in the fridge including the two he dropped off this morning.

The thermometer is set to plummet. Real winter arriving at last. An icy northwesterly blasting across the frozen steppes of Lincolnshire bringing Greenland temperatures to unprepared yellowbellies. Make sure you have a good supply of fuel next to the hearth and plenty of food in the larder. You will not want to roam far.

I wonder if there is a temperature at which Deliveroo ceases to function. Where bicycle chains seize and insulated food bags are inadequate for keeping your chinese warm. Riders freeze. The only option is to bunker down, pile on the duvets and enter hibernation. 

The shed could continue to function as the operational nerve centre of all things Tref. It has all the basic necessities: very good insulation, great connectivity, a Stella Artois branded refrigerator, bags of computer power, screen acreage and a leather sofa with very cosy blankets. 

The preferred option may be laptop in front of the fire in the front room. This will need careful consideration due to the reduced screen availability. It comes to something when decisions are influenced by pixel count.

But first the journey home cross country needs to be undertaken. Two hundred miles of extremely boring motorway 🛣 driving. We complain but in the days of coach and horses this would have been a dangerous and uncomfortable ten day marathon that would not have been considered lightly. Probably would not have made the trip, especially as our stay in Cymru has only been for three nights. Whistlestop. Pheeeeeeeep.

In Caerdydd we are listening to the wireless. It brings news from foreign parts. Calais, Tel Aviv and Westminster. I turned the set on five minutes before the start of the bulletin to give the valves time to warm up. A few crackles and a voice came through loud and clear although we do have to huddle close to hear it properly. We sit in quiet concentration, digesting the information presented and thanking our lucky stars that we are ourselves safe with a roof over our heads. And bacon rolls to be consumed. With another cup of tea.

The Sunday service from York has kicked in. Doesn’t quite do it for me so I’m going to stick the bacon on. Bought some rolls yesterday on the way back from the Bannau Brycheiniog. I will not go hungry on this cold winter’s morn, in January, in Caerdydd. Blessed are those who keep warm when all around is frozen.

…

Paham mae dicter, O Myfanwy,
Yn llenwi’th lygaid duon di?
A’th ruddiau tirion, O Myfanwy,
Heb wrido wrth fy ngweled i?
Pa le mae’r wên oedd ar dy wefus
Fu’n cynnau ‘nghariad ffyddlon ffôl?
Pa le mae sain dy eiriau melys,
Fu’n denu’n nghalon ar dy ôl?

Pa beth a wneuthum, O Myfanwy
I haeddu gwg dy ddwyrudd hardd?
Ai chwarae oeddit, O Myfanwy
 thanau euraidd serch dy fardd?
Wyt eiddo im drwy gywir amod
Ai gormod cadw’th air i mi?
Ni cheisiaf fyth mo’th law, Myfanwy,
Heb gael dy galon gyda hi.

Myfanwy boed yr holl o’th fywyd
Dan heulwen ddisglair canol dydd.
A boed i rosyn gwridog iechyd
I ddawnsio ganmlwydd ar dy rudd.
Anghofia’r oll o’th addewidion
A wneist i rywun, ‘ngeneth ddel,
A dyro’th law, Myfanwy dirion
I ddim ond dweud y gair “Ffarwél”.

…

Cast off thy shackles

…

Whilst I was at the bar last night a fairy hairy bloke came and sat at our table. He had spotted my jacked, draped over the back of the chair, and came over to express his admiration. I’m always happy to engage with aficionados of jackets such as mine. Life is short. Talk to people. I wear it often.

Yesterday at St Mary’s Priory Church in Abergavenny the lady volunteer guide spotted the Route 66 sign and asked me if I had been there. That was a reasonable question. She was a good guide and was able to point out many interesting features inside the church. After our conversation she asked me if I would sign the visitors book and I was happy to oblige.

…

Made it home at a quarter to two. House is freezing so until it warms up I’m sat here with a tshirt, lumberjack shirt, extremely warm himalayan wool jumper and a thick woollen beanie with a v comfortable quilt over my knees.

Serious result last night. We were meeting the Bradshaws at The Cricketers and sister Sue dropped us off en route to her orchestra rehearsal. She inadvertently dropped us outside The Pontcanna Inn and as we were an hour early THG and I popped in for a quick slurp.

We found an empty table easily enough and sitting down realised there was a film crew on the table next to us. Hmm, something going on. Then people in period costume began to appear and chatting with one of them revealed that we were going to be visited by the Mari Lwyd. This is a mythical horse that traditionally brings in the old Welsh New Year which happened to be last night.

The visitation only lasted five minutes or so and we all joined in some singing. The pub was by then rammed. THG and I moved on to meet the Bradshaws.

“Meet the Bradshaws” sounds a bit like the movie “Meet the Fokkers” but it isn’t really. We had a nice chat and a meal in The Cricketers which is close to the Glamorgan CCC ground Sophia Gardens. I used to be a member until they canned the country membership category. The £250 a year they wanted me to fork out seems a little excessive considering I only went to see one game in the three or four years of my membership. I have now joined Notts CCC – Trent Bridge is a lot more convenient.

So today we are off to the Bannau Brycheiniog and Abergavenny, stomping ground of @adrian who has the shortest email address of anyone I know. If we spot you Rev we will wave. 

Oh and Penblwydd Hapus @sue.

…

Driving through the Bannau Brycheiniog farmlands the fields looked lacklustre and poor pickings for grazing sheep. Later the sun emerged, warming the mountainside with rich colouration.

A game of rugby was in full flow as we drove into Brecon. I thought about stopping but figured I’d be outvoted by the girls.

Approaching Merthyr Tydfil and  ‘civilization’ the rows of boxes people call home did not really fit with the natural beauty of the valleys. There were no planning laws during the industrial revolution and if there were they were clearly ignored.

You will of course be aware that hymn writer Joseph Parry, of Myfanwy fame, was born in Merthyr. Was sent to work in a mill at the age of nine. Must have been a helluva guy to have had that tough a start in life and yet end up composing over 400 Hymn tunes, three hundred songs, and 300 anthems, chorales and other orchestral pieces.

I won’t offend your sensibilities by telling you who Tydfil was. Schoolboy stuff.

Bore da Caerdydd. Slow start. Bacon roll and a glass of milk. Now listening to Graham Nash on Desert Island Discs. It’s years since I listened to DID. Hadn’t realised it was that time and it feels like the weekend, being in Caerdydd. We came down a day early.

Bit of pottering around this morning, conference call at lunchtime and perhaps head down the coast later. Penarth for a cuppa.

Was waiting in a queue yesterday and the woman in front of me gave her name. A good name so I wrote it down. She even spelled it out for me/the receptionist. I just googled it. There is only one person of that name in the country. I won’t tell you the name. She was of an age and you don’t hear people being named that name nowadays.You can ask me when we meet in person.

Google actually came up with two people of that name but deeper investigation showed that they were one and the same person. She moved from Birmingham to Lincoln around 2003/2004. Still further investigation revealed that there was someone with her name at school in Sheffield in 1947. Either she never married or someone was referring to her married name when describing their school friends.

I’ll stop there. It’s a bit pointless but it does show how much you can find out about a person just by using google. It’s difficult to stay anonymous these days. I once searched for me and not only did it tell me where I lived but the names and ages of my kids. They have changed since then. The ages that is, not the names.

Being called Huw Trefor Davies brings its own challenges. Oo that’s an unusual way to spell Trevor isn’t it (you ignorant person). Is that Davies with or without an ‘e’? Then I have to use Huw when signing up for things because they often ask for your first name, rather than the one you generally use. It’s even worse when talking to an overseas call centre. No its eff for foxtrot not ess for sugar. Whoodathunk my name would be such a problem.

Coffee in Chapter Arts Centre at 11. See you there.