Notes from Cribyn

We’re off road at a cottage in mid-Wales after weeks of wonderful hostings with family and friends.

The pace has been frantic and friendly and we’re ready for a rest. On the way to Wales yesterday I shouted ‘why are we still only going 40?’ and Wallington said ‘Who are you asking’ and I said ‘I’m shouting at the signs!’

it’s time to stop and smell the silage.

It’s weird driving across the UK with a three inch GPS screen as a map. You never quite know where you are on a broader scale. All you know is that you follow the A376589 for another 17 miles and then turn left. Now an then you need to turn around when possible. We’re like two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl, mile after mile.

But fuck it is fun. The hedges down here in Wales are profuse and plump and vivid with Spring. Unbelievably gorgeous. If Wallington could ever get sick of me being happy it would happen now, but I think she prefers it to the very occasionally grumpy Redsall.

Just to make sure I don’t explode with joy I have a shithouse cold and I buggered my back over in France, as you do, but I won’t complain. I’m on the mend.

I’m reading books on Kindle which is a bit like driving via a GPS. Once I’ve started I’ve got no idea what the book is called (I have to go back to the menu page to find out) and I only know what % I’ve read. I can’t tell when chapters end (‘I’ll just finish this chapter/%) and when a dog (it wasn’t me) spilled a glass of wine on the Kindle in France it stopped working. The Kindle, not France. France was already out to lunch.

Anyway, even the orchestra is beautiful.

It is so peaceful and superb here in Wales, though Wallington did shed a tear at lunch because she misses all the wonderful kids that have been loving and entertaining us for weeks now. Me too.

We ate sandwiches and read The Guardian In the Wiston church graveyard today, and said our hellos and goodbyes to Wallington’s mum and the rest of the departed Welsh relatives. We’ve  got washed socks and undies over the heated towel rail in the bathroom, we’re miles from nowhere, and we’re happy – in case you were wondering.


3 thoughts on “Notes from Cribyn

    • Hello – no I’m back. Ha! Thank you for checking in. I’m in hiatus and delighted to see the wisteria about to bloom in my back garden. I’ll need to sort what happens next. At least the world seems to notice all of a sudden that war fucks things up.

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