It's only a number...

I'm going to hit the big fifty this year.  What to do?



Party - or Not?

Do I do nothing and try my hardest to ignore it and hope (forlornly) that it goes away or do I throw a party?

I quite like the idea of organising a party in Peewees (the place of my mis-spent youth) and invite all my (literally) old friends.  Through our beer glasses we could all make believe we are twenty again.

OR do I fly to New Zealand to see my soul mate Alex?  We travelled together around the world after Uni for a year and loved "the land of the long white cloud", Alex so much she lives there now.  We celebrated our twentieth and thirtieth together (I was the 'mature' one even back then).  For four years we were care free students and we had an absolute blast.  I haven't seen her for a decade now and would love so much to visit and instantly sink into that cozy friendship that wraps itself around you.

OR do I hold a repeat and similar party to Gran's 100th held at home last year?  This option would involve more family and be more inclusive.  Would anyone come?  Would it be an anticlimax after Gran's do?  Gulp.

Perhaps I'll do nothing.  I am after all a scardy cat.

Lack of greed.

My daughter, G9 asked for a cup of "Pick 'n' Mix" when we were out in town and only quarter filled it.

"You can fill that to the top you know,"  said the sales assistant at the till.  (This was for no extra cost).

In a tone that suggested all adults must be stupid G9 replied.  "But it's all I want."

We can learn something from the young.

Maybe not, I made her go back to fill it up.  After all I was paying and her Dad would nobly step into the breach and help her out with the eating.

New Year's Resolution

Well here we are again, with the same old resolution (i.e. to lose weight) although this year it's combined with picking up those running shoes again and getting fit.

To this aim I have bought some winter gear and ordered a monthly running magazine which will accusingly or encouragingly (depends on my mood) regularly land on the mat, but I still have not sorted out the new shoes.  And unfortunately after receiving my credit card bill yesterday I am still in deep shock.  I'm not sure the bank balance can withstand another hit.  I even took something back to Marks and Sparks yesterday as it was in the sale, and then re-bought it at the sale price.  Every little helps.

Winter running gear; still with labels intact.

J keeps telling me there is no point hanging on to our savings as they are now depreciating quickly in this economic climate, I on the other hand still like that feeling of a back up nest egg (no matter how small). 

I also worry about things currently in the future and not confirmed; for example how on earth are we are going to be able to afford to send G9 to higher education (if she chooses to go) if we don't save a little beforehand.  Currently Wales is subsidising the fees for Welsh residents wherever they may choose to study, but a week is a long time in politics, never mind 9 years.  I know these tuition fees are supposed to be down to the students to pay, but between that and trying to afford a home at these ridiculous prices in the UK we'd really want to help G9 out at the beginning of her independent life - if at all possible. 

Watch this space though, where there is a will there is a way - hopefully.  Car boot with unwanted Christmas presents here I come!

HAPPY NEW YEAR - BLWYDDYN NEWYDD DDA

Busy busy busy

Thought I'd better do at least one posting in December.  I haven't been idle, its been a busy month.

Very last day of November we travelled to Crymych to see my daughter, G9 perform in the orchestra she has joined.

First weekend of December saw us going to a bonfire on the common land.  Unfortunately due to the very wet weather we all gave up and went to Maggie and Phil's house for a glass (or three) instead.  Shame. This was followed the next night by a housewarming party, held by the lovely Jane from our dosbarth Cymraig.  Good mate Carl was also there and as sparky and entertaining as usual.  Wonderful evening had by us all, although subsequently the morning after was a bit of a blur. 

We went to the church at the bottom of the garden for a magical evening of carols, mulled wine, mince pies and other goodies.

St Meilyr's Church

Then there were the preparations for the grand Coffee Morning to be held at our house, not only that we had two family visitors staying in The Cabin and three in my house. The visitors lent a willing hand on the morning itself though and really helped to make it a success.  In the afternoon all the ladies went to the Oriel Linda Norris Gallery to make some fused glass Christmas decorations.  Friend and fellow blogger Maggie Christie joined us with her beautiful daughter.  Sunday we had our first Christmas lunch.

Our neighbour was Santa for a morning (but shhhh don't tell G9) and we went along to their chapel in Gelli to sing a few carols, drink mulled wine (well G9 didn't) and meet him in the flesh.

We went to Ysgol Maenclochog to watch the school Christmas play.

We had carols to sing with the Adran but unfortunately although we went out all wrapped up they ended up being cancelled due to the snow.

Last weekend my brother and family came to stay.  Saturday evening we had our second Christmas lunch.  Sunday we went to the local village of Llangolman and walked for a few miles to find a holy well.  It was a lovely walk, the fields were covered in snow and the hills really were alive with the sound of music as we all sang carols.  We were blessed with very clear skies, with the moon out and the sun setting.

As well as of course frenetically wrapping presents late at night once G9 has gone to bed.  Writing cards.  The usual.  Phew.  Roll on Christmas I'm looking forward to a break. 

Nevertheless these simple pleasures bring home the true meaning of Christmas and I wouldn't have wanted to be anywhere else in the world than here; with the family, neighbours and friends that surround us.

Morning views

Looking out of the bedroom window this morning...

And then the bedroom door...

Joining in...

I had in my mind's eye when we moved that we would join in.  It was mentioned to us a few times that we really should; often dire warnings of ignoring this good advice were made explicit. 

"Oh you will be OK as long as you enter into the spirit of things and don't ever turn down invitations." 

...or worse...

"You know what the Welsh are like and they really don't like the English."  Nudge, nudge, wink, wink.  "Hope you've packed a fire extinguisher." 

These comments from parochial well wishers simply confirmed that our decision to move was the right one.  We had always intended to join in as really it would be a bit shortsighted of us to move somewhere new and then promptly insulate ourselves from the world.  You have to make an effort to make new friends.  This was going to be home after all.

Never a more welcoming crowd could we have we met.  Cymru Am Byth!  A Barabrith was awaiting us on our arrival, left on the doorstep.  People have warmly invited us into their homes and plied us with food and wine. 

In our turn we help with looking after the common land (actually Him Next Door does most of the mowing), this Friday we have a community bonfire to burn all the chopping back we did earlier in the year.  We also go to fundraising events in the local community and support the school, village hall and local shop whenever we can.

We actually proactively fund raise for both the common land (Cadwraeth Llysyfran‏) and St Meilyr's Church, nestled at the bottom of the garden.  I am not particularly religious but believe I suppose essentially in Christian principles.  And the Church is truly beautiful and awe inspiring in its age and presence.  You wonder what those walls have witnessed in their time.

From my involvement in the immediate community was born the website http://www.llysyfranchurch.co.uk/.  My little bit of giving. 

140 Christmas Cards sold so far...

Letter writing.

A quaint old tradition. 

I have one friend from school who has not dabbled in the 'Interweb' at all.  He insists on writing letters and I must admit there is nothing like finding that little jewel amongst the drab brown envelopes scattered on the mat.

I can type quicker than I can write, so I have found that my handwriting has deteriorated somewhat... especially when balancing the pad on my knee with one eye on the TV and one hand holding a cuppa, all whilst trying to help G9 with her gwaith cartref Cymraig.  (Hmmm perhaps that's why she doesn't get 10 out of 10).

I can barely understand what I have written myself when reading my letter back, goodness knows how anyone else can.  But still, it's more personal somehow than the typed page.

The only other time I hand write in earnest is on Christmas cards.  For those I see regularly I don't pen much except for the usual salutations*, but for those I rarely see it's a chance to catch up.  So I carefully write little messages in each card for my distant friends and family, all individually scripted.  It makes my arm and hand ache, but every year I do it, just to get those little gems back.  It's like Facebook but hand made.

I have a box of old love letters and cards, hand written by someone who died when just starting out in life.  Although I look at them rarely, when I do I feel connected somehow - they have more resonance than a typed page could ever have.

Writing this blog has made me feel a little guilty as it reminds me I have a pen friend I still owe a letter to, its been months and months.  Somehow life keeps getting in the way.  It's back on the top of my things to do for this weekend.

*Addendum: I never understand why people have photographs on their walls of relatives they live with, after all they see them every day.