‘Someone has stolen my pig!’ cried Summer Sands, as she ran into the farmhouse kitchen.

     ‘Mum! Mum!’ she shouted, but there was no sign of her mother and no-one else was around either. Summer ran outside and looked in all the barns, almost tripping over the kittens. ‘Oh I wish you could help me find my pig and my mother too!’ she said tearfully. The kittens meowed and ran after Summer as she ran towards the field where her father should have been cutting the hay.

      ‘Dad! Dad!’ Summer shouted as she ran towards the tractor. ‘Someone’s stolen Percival Pig and they’ve taken mum too!’ But her father was not on the tractor and when she called for him again, he did not answer. Summer’s heart beat fast and although the sun had been shining, there was a dark cloud heading towards them.

      ‘I wish you could help me find my mother and my father and my pig,’ she said to the horse. The horse neighed and trotted behind the kittens that ran as fast as they could after Summer. They came to the stream at the far end of the field. Summer stopped and called again. ‘Mum, Dad, Percival, where are you?’ But the only sound they heard was the ripple of the water as it made its way down the hill towards Gusty Gully. Summer decided to run to the village for help.

      Phil the fish saw Summer running down the hill being chased by a load of kittens and a horse.

      ‘What’s wrong?’ he shouted.

      ‘Someone’s stolen my mum and my dad and Percival pig too,’ said Summer breathlessly.

      Phil the Fish scratched his head. ‘Are you sure?’ he said frowning.

      ‘Well they’ve all disappeared from the farm,’ said Summer and that is very strange.

      Phil the fish looked at the kittens. ‘It’s a pity they didn’t steal some of those kittens,’ he said. ‘The farm must be overrun with them all!’

       ‘Oh please help me find my family,’ begged Summer.

       Phil the fish nodded his head. ‘Well I doubt they weren’t taken for a ransom,’ he said.

       ‘What’s a ransom?’ asked Summer.

       ‘It’s when someone hides something and refuses to give it back until you pay up!’ Summer looked confused.

       Phil the fish laughed. ‘I was only joking,’ he said. ‘Though they’d probably take the pig for money!’

       Suddenly, Summer turned and ran back up the hill with the kittens and the horse behind her.

       ‘Wait for me,’ shouted Phil the fish.

       ‘You’ve helped enough,’ Summer shouted back. ‘I know where they are!’

       And she ran all the way back to the farm.

       ‘Mum, Dad, Percival!’ shouted Summer as  they reached the yard. ‘Oh please don’t say I’m too late.’

        ‘There you are!’ came a voice from the kitchen. It was Summer’s mother.

        ‘I’ll pay the ransom!’ shouted Summer breathlessly. ‘I’ll work every day after school to buy his food. Just please, don’t sent him away.’ For a moment, Summer wondered if it was already too late. Perhaps Percival had already gone to the market to be sold for bacon. She would never eat bacon again. Ever!

       ‘This is a farm,’ said her mother, walking towards her, ‘you should be used to it by now.’

       Summer froze! ‘He’s gone, hasn’t he? You took him when I was sleeping. How could you?’

       ‘I couldn’t,’ replied her mother. ‘Your father took him while I went for a walk.’

       ‘And I couldn’t either,’ someone shouted across the yard. It was Summer’s father and he had Percival Pig on a big fat lead. ‘You will have to do extra chores on the farm to pay for his food.’

        ‘I will! I will! I promise!’ shouted Summer. ‘Oh thank you! Thank you so much!’ And she ran and hugged a very lucky Percival pig, just as it started to rain.

Slip the slug has been very quiet lately. There have been no signs of his slippery trails across the lounge floor. In fact, I had almost forgotten about Slip, until I accidently stumbled upon him and his family, sleeping peacefully in our garden compost bin.

     ‘Oh there you are Slip,’ I said smiling down at the cosy family all cwtched up together’. ‘I wondered what had happened to you.’

      Slip looked up at me sleepily. ‘Go back to sleep,’ I said and placed the lip on top of them so not to let the sun dry them out.

       My kind and unassuming husband thought I had gone mad when I told him that nothing was to be added to compost bin 3, until Slip and his family had had a good night’s sleep and moved on.  

       ‘They are a protected species in our garden,’ I told him and smiled when he agreed with me. ‘And they have the enormous task of eating and decomposing vegetation, therefore conserving the ecology!’ I thought it best not to mention that slugs have green blood, but it was on the tip of my tongue!

       I remember once, some time ago, a little boy coming to visit us and was fascinated by the trail that Slip or one of his family had left in the garden. Just as he was about to rub it away with a stick, I told him one of the reason for the slimy trail. It helps prevent the slug from slipping, I told him, when they go down steep slopes. I also told him that slugs have 27,000 teeth, more than a shark! He was well impressed.

       By explaining to children at an early age, the reasons why they should or shouldn’t do things, is much better in my opinion for the protection of animals and the environment. You see, Slip has the potential to live up to six years! And if you’re wondering, how a slug can get into your home when it seems almost impossible, it’s because it can stretch out to 20 times its normal length and squeeze through the smallest of cracks.....!

‘Goodnight Slip! No doubt I shall see you again soon!’

Surrounded by our music loving friends and an enormous picnic was a fantastic way to spend a Saturday evening. With the amazing Bryn Terfel as headline for the Proms in the Park in Swansea, it was guaranteed to be spectacular, and it was!

     When Mr Terfel began to sing my favourite Welsh folk song, Ar Hyd y Nos (All Through the Night) the whole audience was trapped in its spell. Added to the brew was the popular Welsh song, Myfanwy, composed by Joseph Parry and published in 1875.

      Singer songwriter Casi from Bangor, was also a refreshing voice to listen to on a late summer’s evening beneath a clear sky, with the BBC National Orchestra and Chorus of Wales. But we mustn’t forget Tim Rhys-Evans of Only Men Aloud and Josie d'Arby (BBC Cardiff Singer of the World) who were both greatly entertaining.

       And so we tucked into our picnic baskets and drank cups of sweet tea. Well, at least I for one drank the cups of sweet tea while my friends seemed to polish off quite a few bottles of wine!

        Oh, just one more thing...the fireworks! I have never seen anything so amazing. It was magical!

Just before the foxing hour last night, I did a head count on the hens, only to discover there was one too many! On closer inspection, I discovered a very young ring-necked dove. She was trying to maintain her body heat as her feathers were fluffed up in order for her to gain more heat so I was instantly concerned. Despite whatever difficulties she was having, she was pecking away at the corn with the rest of the girls and not at all bothered about my presence.

     Having no trouble in picking up the friendly wee bird, I noticed she did indeed have a slight breathing problem so she stayed overnight in a makeshift hospital box. I shall call her Gobeithio which means 'Hope' in Welsh.

     It’s morning, and she has lived to tell the tale. Her bright eyes looked up at me when I called to her and I could see she has a problem. So it’s off to the little bird hospital in the woods once again. I’ll let you know tomorrow how she got on.

     As for the rest of the day, my kind and unassuming husband and I, plus a multitude of friends will be singing ‘Land of Hope and Glory’ at the Last Night of the Proms in Singleton Park. Looking forward to seeing Bryn Terfel!'

'And for you wee Gobeithio, I wish for you to live so that you can feel the sun on your face and the breeze on your wings and to visit us again!'

Walking with some friends just the other day, down a lane where I once lived, caused a melancholy mood to settle over me. Oh please don’t worry, its September again, the time when I reflect and remember the people I have loved and lost. The people that helped me to become the person I am today.

     I have had many ‘mothers’ that have come and gone, people who have meant a lot to me in one way or another. But I have only ever had one mummy, as I always called her.

     And although it was in the month of August she left me, having died in my arms, I always remember September as being the darkest month. The time of change! But I do believe that she is still there, just waiting in another room fretting from time to time that I’m not half the house proud person that she was. She certainly would never have had chickens running in and out the house and a makeshift hospital for any sick animal that passes through, but she did love animals, that’s a fact! And she loved her family and gave so much of herself, despite her sufferings.

     So here is to September, and the memory of you holding my hand and walking down that lane again. And my baby that died before his life began.

Let us never forget