A Sort of Where I Live - Part Two

Dear Diary,



The Lake Isle of Innisfree

I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,
And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made;
Nine bean rows will I have there, a hive for the honeybee,
And live alone in the bee-loud glade.

And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow,
Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings;
There midnight's all a-glimmer, and noon a purple glow,
And evening full of the linnet's wings.

I will arise and go now, for always night and day
I hear the water lapping with low sounds by the shore;
While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements gray,
I hear it in the deep heart's core.

W B Yeats

I am typing this out now listening again to the album Between the Minds by Jack Savoretti, one of my all-time favourites. This new artist has his second album out this week and I have ordered it already, just a wee present to myself.

I wake not knowing what day it is.

This is probably caused by:

(a) advancing age and the probable onset of senility.

(b) the fact that I only have to work every other day.

I prefer to think it is just (b). Please say it is.

Luckily I have M to put me right and he tells me it is Friday.

Whoop Whoop. It is a no-work day.


I have been sleeping deeply and having such vivid experiences, dreams where I am working for the Liberal Democrats, how weird is that? Probably it is because I stayed up late watching Question Time, one of my (strange?) passions. And then as I made my way to bed the computer called to me. I pass it on my way to my bedroom and it always calls me with promises of messages, blog comments too if I am very lucky, or some dear cyber-friend to chat to.

Why is it that an hour can pass by so much more quickly when one is ‘on the computer?' It doesn’t pass as rapidly when I am reading, another of my (solitary) passions. Are all my passions solitary? Probably. (Showing my age again now). I love walking alone or with canine company, gardening, doing my yoga. I even work alone though I do see a lot of the public and that I love, so it might not count. What does it say about me, this love of solitude and independence, I wonder? I think it is because, from a very young age, I learned to be self-sufficient and I guess I am doing what comes naturally. Also our genes dictate whether we are introvert or extrovert, of that fact I am in agreement. I believe that most people who enjoy writing are introverted for surely you have to dwell a lot of the time ‘inside your own head’. What do you think?

I can see Sammy Squirrel and his ‘wife’ playing chase up and down the trunk of the pine tree outside my bedroom window. M says that there will be baby squirrels before long. (What are baby squirrels called?).

Woody the woodpecker is pecking at the nuts. Here is a pic hot off the press!






Let’s have a break from writing.

This is my wee cottage.






I’m posting a few photos that I have half-inched from M. Carrying on from my Where I Live blog homework (Part One - see earlier entry). I should have posted some pics with it then but I am just not that organised.















The first are of my little mountain river in all its moods. I am tempted to write her moods but I am not all that sure of her gender. Is she an ’it’ or an ‘he‘? You will see from the pics that ’her’ moods can change rapidly. Here I think she is feminine you will notice, I am not being sexist, I just think she resembles me here. Do not be taken in by the summer’s air of quiet and gentleness for her soft song can turn and become her powerful roar, the size and speed of her flow can instil real fear at times of flood.








This one below is my favourite. I put my seat right at the edge of the river, in the shallows in the summer. Can you blame me for not wanting to go away?






But I love my river so, it’s what attracted me to my tiny cottage, the bit on the end as I call it. The place has always attracted funny nicknames apparently. Some of the locals use to call it Ty Twt (Tut? sp?) which means ‘little house’ which has the double meaning of ‘outside toilet’ apparently! Just a wee joke (excuse the pun) but it used to upset the previous owner M, a dear lady who lived here with her lovely husband B, for well over forty years.

I am digressing again.

I have attached some snowy pics too. I love snow and have felt quite deprived this winter as we have only had a few flurries. So I content myself with looking at these old photos and showing you what it has looked like in the past. Having said that, snow is forecast this weekend for the whole of the UK - we shall see. I hope it does though because it is my birthday weekend - As I’ve said before, when I was born ?? years ago it was actually a very snowy day. I only know this because I met someone once who was born on the same day, in the same part of England.

But birthdays are sad days for me; I could not put into words why this is so but it is nothing to do with getting older, that is not a worry at all for me.








Tomorrow I hope it stays dry though as it is the annual Food Festival in Llanwrtyd Wells. Always enjoyable and well worth a visit, especially if you are a foodie. There is much to see. Derek Brockway is opening it (or Uncle Derek as we have named him in our house). Only Welsh readers will know who I am talking about, he is a very popular TV weatherman. He will also be signing copies of his new book.






Other pics?

One of the parlour in the morning sunshine.



A few snaps of my garden.






Bit of the field





I’ll sign off now, but first a few Blessings.

Photos. They differ from words as they say it all and leave nothing to the imagination. Some capture a moment or a person, some are works of art but all are history.

Communication, which is what it’s all about, this writing/blogging business. We are so lucky too in this modern age as we can blog, speak or email in an instant. Can even chat live online or on Skype.

Finally what I love that lives in my cottage. Apart from any human or animal of course.

Pictures, books, knick-knacks, plants, pieces of furniture. An atmosphere of peace and calm. All those things that make a house a home.

To end now here is a song I love.

Feels Like Home to Me. Ignore the video, it might be a tad sloppy but listen to the wonderful voice of Bonnie Raitt.

To watch the video first click on the Play arrow on the other music player in the right panel of the blog page. It will turn into a PAUSE button. If you don’t you will get a cacophony (love that word).



I’m off now to bath my collie, I fear she has been rolling in something nasty as she reeks of fox, yuk!

Have a good Friday,

Bye for now,
Go mbeannai Dia duit,
Caitx