Welsh days

It is, of course, NAIDOC week and the flag is flying proud over our garden fence at the council offices.  I can't say there's much other evidence locally.  It is lovely hearing different Aboriginal languages on ABC Classic, and we did go to see The Merindas at Spring Bay Mill Sunday before last.  Great to see young Aboriginal women who do not take themselves too seriously but are very serious about their culture and language.

The connection between Aboriginal people and the Welsh, in my mind, is that both have been badly affected by colonialism and both are fighting back.  I have been concentrating on the Welsh bit being blessed living in Glamorgan Spring Bay.  On Tuesday we did a Road Trip to Swansea.  This is always a beautiful drive, but even better when someone else is driving, in this case, His Majesty, husband of Her Majesty, the Sun Queen.  His Majesty drives the community bus but had a day off on Tuesday so took we three old ladies out to keep in practice.  Mrs O Henry had a doctor's appointment to attend in Swansea so we skipped Zumba and thus managed to have lunch out.  The waitress told us that there was a whale in the bay.  I took this to mean that the food wasn't very good so better to be distracted looking out the window.  I was wrong.  My scallop and prawn linguine was excellent and I celebrated with a Craigie Knowe riesling.  We didn't see the whale.

In looking for a memory stick to work on Steve's 2020 calendar, I looked through some USBs that have been puzzling me for a while but didn't get around to looking at.  What a treat I found!  I spent yesterday evening looking at photos, many of which I don't remember seeing before.  They are all thanks to my cousin Stephen in Abergavenny.

Here's my Dad with his father and brother.  Dad's last day in the mine, 12 August 1936.

Then he was off to England where, many years later, he met and married my Mum.

Dad with his Dad.  Mum with her Mum. 1946

After moving to St Davids and living in a somewhat primitive cottage, Grandma and Grandpa Cox were finally allocated new public housing.  This is the cottage we visited as children and played on that lovely curved wall which Grandma eventually covered in shells. 1959.

And here they are in their garden. 1963