Just back from almost a week in Wales. We had gone to open the van for the season and see what bits had dropped off during our absence and the bad storms. We always have to strip it down and take everything back in the Spring. Why is it men can never understand the duvet situation? Al insists that we have a duvet and pillow for everyone in our street. I just like to call it options. Men have no concept of the tog relevance. I could set fire to Allan in bed and I’ve often felt like when he snores but he wouldn’t notice. The glass neck which is badly attached to the glass back requires a minimum of 3 different pillows to alternate during the night. They are lined up alongside the bed which makes a visit to the toilet a bit of an adventure. The floor is littered with memory foam pillows, wheat bags , cast off bed socks and bottles of water. Negotiating this minefield in the dark without my glasses is as exciting as it gets in our bedroom. No longer the passion prompted frenzy of cast off garments , rose petals and a vapour trail of French perfume. These days we follow the heady scent of Ralgex and the sound of snoring. Cries of passion are now replaced by “For Christ’s sake, shut up!”We finally set off with mattress toppers, duvets, bedlinen and curtains, heaters and optimism. For once it was well placed and the weather was brilliant. Storms had smashed the garden table but the van was still in the same place. Some had not fared so well. The television kept saying “No signal” so each night we sat like escapees from the Techno Revolution reading, eating and making crafty things with beads. It was all very Little House on the Prarie.
We now have two lovely pigs over the road. Allan , perhaps recognised some genetic link and bonded instantly with the smaller one which appeared to be quite, clean and friendly. In fact , both pigs seemed to be cleaner,and better behaved than most men I know when left to their own devices. Hence the old joke….when a woman returns the house plants are all dead but there are things growing in the fridge. There used to be some spiteful cows in that field who would check which caravans were occupied and then set up camp directly opposite. As soon as the van lights went out they would engage in very noisy bovine lovemaking to keep us awake. This made sleep impossible and Allan very jealous.
Had a great day in Portmeirion. The storms had brought down 90 trees in the forest . The maintenance staff were all busy painting the buildings and trying to get everywhere ready for the visitors. Feel so at home there. Clough Williams-Ellis created such a magical place for so many people to enjoy his vision. Our own little bit of Italy and this week we even got the sunny skies.
Wales, as Rhod Gilbert enthuses is being done up. We have a Costa in Pwllheli and Porth and now to make Al’s life complete a Wetherspoons. His cup or in his case is glass runneth over. Usual mix of clientele. Our waitress remarked on the diversity of the customers and said it was great for the gang of serious drinkers in the corner who before it opened had been forced to sit in the bus shelter and drink all day! There’s lovely, innit! I like Wales! There’s no pretence. The Lakes have wonderful scenery but I find the shops a bit twee. If you don’t want something waterproof or some of those poncey Nordic walking sticks or a plastic bag to hang a map round your neck then it’ s not your thing, obviously. I find it hard to get orgasmic about Kendal mint cakes and an overpriced fleece. I find them a bit sniffy in the shops. Just because I made my hat out of the arm of an old woollen sweater. Their toasted teacakes are an extortionate price! Us pensioners are very choosy about our teacakes. It’s like when you see a couple sharing one and you feel like saying “Are you waiting for your turn with the teeth?”
As you can see from the sneaky pic. Allan took I managed to catch some rays on Cricc. beach. As I had gone unprepared I had improvised and created my own look Allan move his chair further down the beach and said “You can take the girl out of Friar Park but not Friar Park out of the girl!” This is a man who once wore my underskirt on his head to keep of the sun on a very hot mountain in Bavaria.
People complain that the Welsh people speak Welsh in the shops etc. How bizzare is that? It’s their language. We don’t go to Italy and expect the Italians to talk to each other in English. Coming to the Black Country for the first time must be a similar experience. “Ar bist, cock?” “Fair to middlin’!”Gooin’ aht!” “I bay…it’s lookin’ black the back o’ Bill’s Muthers!” And my all time Wednesbury favourite…. “Ah’m gooin’ wum wen oi’ve got the ode mon’s cowin’ pork chaps!” Black Country loike she is spoken!
As you can see I’ve managed to clear the beach! This also works on trains and buses if you want two seats. When someone asks “Is anyone sitting there?”Just say…”Only the Lord!” I can guarantee they won’t take it!