The technology behind the blog tells me every Saturday morning that it is time to add a post to this blog – the intention of which dear reader is to keep you abreast of happenings in deepest darkest Cymru (that is Wales to you in Birmingham land). The blog started in 2016 when we moved here and has gradually been overtaken by Facebook and WhatsApp posts as those apps grow in popularity.

So it is with some dismay that I notice that even Mrs. Trellis of North Wales has not taking an interest (or even giving us her views views on television and radio as aired on “I’m Sorry I Haven’t A Clue”), given that the last post on here was at the end of October. Scope here for New Year’s resolution, but as we never set them, ergo never keep them, there’s little point. Suffice to say we will try a little harder.

Christmas is now over. Our first one in twenty years on our own. Not strictly true, but still. The first one was in ’16 but the angst we suffered, or was imposed on us, leaving Sandie’s Mother on her own, meant we had to move her to Llandod so our succeeding Christmases were with her, and as you do, take her wishes into account. Then of course at the end of May she entered the bedroom carpet Olympics and sadly died in July. Well, we enjoyed it, seafood fruits de mer and all, just pleasing ourselves.

Early Jan and the change of year meant that we noticed that it was ten years since the flooding in our previous village occurred around St. Valentine’s Day. And this year with all the wet, the groundwater decided yesterday to pop up and say hello. Not the day we planned but hey ho! Man the pumps to make sure the Donkey’s stable was kept free of water, which it was thank goodness.