After another comfortable night on the banks of llyn Tegid (Wales’ largest natural lake) in Bala, I can strongly say it’s worth a visit! With the Arenig in front of us, the Aran on our left, and a mill pond lake with just two metres away, it couldn’t be better. Even the sun woke us with a promise of another glorious day.

     But do beware, that according to local legend, the lake was formed by supernatural powers. I can easily believe this with my vivid imagination but my kind and unassuming husband certainly does not! Well according to the story, there is a precious spring called Ffynnon Gower and it had a minder. Now this minder had the important job of putting the lid over the spring every night. This was to prevent the evil spirits and the devil himself from getting in. Well you can guess what happened, or perhaps you can’t! The minder fell asleep before putting the lid on and the water poured out from the precious spring to form a lake over the old town of Bala.  Possible?

      As I looked out across the mirrored water, I couldn’t help but wonder at another story we came across, as we took a rather longish stroll up hills, which my kind and unassuming husband called mini mountains!

      Apparently, the lake has a depth of 45 metres and lurking in the darkness are small whitefish known as Gwyniad’s.  They were supposedly trapped here at the end of the Ice Age (which was 14,000 years ago) and they are still there. Not the originals of course, well perhaps they are there too!   But not only do the wee whitefish live here, but roach, pike, perch, trout and eels have made their home too. Though it’s not for me, I’ve been told that many people do come here for the fishing, with the lake being 3 ½ miles long and ¾ miles wide, I guess there is plenty of room to fish as well as all sorts of boating activities, cycling and miles of walking.

      So here we are on a beautiful summers day looking out at the water where a flotilla of ducks sail by us and birds call from the trees. The pungent smell of breakfast cooking on outdoor stoves pervades through the warm air, reminding us that it’s summertime here in these mountains of glorious Wales.     

Having adventures, whatever the weather, is always an inspiration to me. And to my kind an unassuming husband, it is always a welcome break from the daily chores at our home for waifs and strays, but for a wee while it makes him anxious. This is because he never knows where we will end up even at the point of leaving!

     Lunchtime yesterday, we decided to take advantage of some ‘hen sitters’ and head off in our old camper to.....God knows where!

      ‘Let’s drive up north to the mountains,’ I said. ‘It doesn’t matter about the rain. In fact I’m sure the sun will eventually shine!’

       So we drove up through Mid Wales with its rolling green hills and breathtaking scenery. We were soon in a holiday mood, despite the threatening dark clouds that seemed to guide us.

      ‘They’ll be gone by the time we get there,’ I said positively. My kind and unassuming husband frowned and I knew that he had his doubts.

      We chugged along through the quiet roads of Llandovery, Lampeter then followed the coast road up to Aberystwyth.  When we eventually reached Machynlleth, the clouds began to melt away and we saw the mountains in the distance. I don’t know why it is, but the mountains effect my spirit just the same a cup of sweet tea.

        After almost four hours driving, we reached Dolgellau and slipped almost unnoticed into Snowdonia National Park. Real mountain country!

        ‘I knew the sun would be out up here,’ I grinned. My kind and unassuming husband grinned too. And indeed, by the time we reached Bala Lake and settled our camper besides it, the evening sun warmed and welcomed us! While I waited for the kettle to boil, I absorbed our surroundings.

        There was hardly a soul in sight, just a few wondering hens, a peaceful lake, a setting sun and standing majestically in the distance was nothing more than Cader Idris. Bliss!

When I think of a cup of sweet tea, I can feel my whole body sigh! I don’t know why this is, that tea should have such a hold over me. I guess it stems from my childhood and living with my grandmother.

     Granny Gower used to put six sugars in her tea cup, mine too, and she smoked liked a trooper! But this hard working woman lived to be ninety four  and not a day was spent in hospital. So perhaps it was the tea that did it.

     When I think back to those times, I can always hear my father singing ‘Right said Fred,’ the cup of tea song. My sister can also sing this song very well too! This one is for you!

Right Said Fred (Cup of Tea)

Right Said Fred (Cup of Tea)

(Myles Rudge, lyrics & Ted Dicks, music)

 "Right," said Fred, "Both of us together

One on each end and steady as we go."

Tried to shift it, couldn't even lift it

We was getting nowhere

And so we had a cuppa tea and 

"Right," said Fred, "Give a shout for Charlie."

Up comes Charlie from the floor below.

After strainin', heavin' and complainin'

We was getting nowhere

And so we had a cuppa tea. 

And Charlie had a think, and he thought we ought to take

off all the handles

And the things wot held the candles.

But it did no good, well I never thought it would

"All right," said Fred, "Have to take the feet off

To get them feet off wouldn't take a mo." 

Took its feet off, even took the seat off

Should have got us somewhere but no!

So Fred said, "Let's have a cuppa tea."

And we said, "right-o." 

"Right," said Fred, "Have to take the door off

Need more space to shift the so-and-so."

Had bad twinges taking off the hinges

And it got us nowhere

And so we had a cuppa tea and

 "Right," said Fred, " Have to take the wall down,

That there wall is gonna have to go."

Took the wall down, even with it all down

We was getting nowhere

And so we had a cuppa tea. 

And Charlie had a think, and he said, "Look, Fred,

I get a sort of feelin'

If we remove the ceilin'

With a rope or two we could drop the blighter through." 

"All right," said Fred, climbing up a ladder

With his crowbar gave a mighty blow.

Was he in trouble, half a ton of rubble landed on the top of his dome.

So Charlie and me had another cuppa tea

And then we went home.

 (I said to Charlie, "We'll just have to leave it

Standing on the landing, that's all

Trouble with Fred is, he's too hasty

Never get nowhere if you're too hasty.") 

(c)1962, by Myles Rudge (lyrics) & Ted Dicks (music)

Recorded by Gordon Bok & Cindy Kallet

and by Cindy Mangsen and Steve Gillette

early recording by Bernard Cribbens

She hangs like a pendulum in the night sky, and sometimes you will see her still hanging out there with her friend, the Sun, during the day. Now Little Miss Lunar (as I always called her), or better known as The Moon, is 4.5 billion years old and is our closest and most admired neighbour.   

      Last week, when I was out walking on the cliffs I saw Little Miss Lunar hanging there, all silent and mysterious. I stood there for quite some time just watching her, watching me back. And I remembered a story my father once told me, one night as we sat watching the Moon from our porch. He pointed out the dark areas.

      Pointing at the dark areas, ‘Those are known as seas,’ he told me. ‘They have Latin names such as Mare Serenitatis (the Sea of Serenity) and Mare Frigoris (the Sea of cold).’

       I can see him now, turning to look at me, watching for my reaction. As always, I listened intensely with eyes wide open.

       ‘They are not seas of course,’ he said frowning, and I shook my head as if I already knew that, but I didn’t, you see, I was only seven at the time.    

       ‘Well as you know,’ he said, ‘they are large areas of smooth dark lava.’ I nodded in agreement and smiled up at Little Miss Lunar.

      That night, my father told me all about Little Miss Lunar and how she had many faces with different names. I remember thinking that I would like to be the Moon and change the shape of my face from time to time. My Father used to call me Waterworks as I was either crying or laughing, nothing in-between, so if I was like Miss Lunar, then I would wear a smile all of the time.

     He told me that the Moon we could see was the large Harvest Moon and that the full moon had a sort of magical phenomena and could be the reason why I had trouble sleeping. This didn’t make any sense to me but I said nothing.  He talked about the Waxing Moon and the Waxing Gibbous Moon. Then he told me that I would have to fly 239,000 miles if I wanted to sit on the Moon. I didn’t think I wanted to sit on the moon and anyway, I reminded him that although grandmother said I was an Angel, I did not have wings.

    But what I remember most about that conversation with my father was the bit about when the Moon is a crescent, and is illuminated by the Sun.

      ‘If you look closely at that Moon,’ he said smiling down at me, ‘you will see the shadow of the rest of the Moon.’ Then he took my hand and said ‘this is sometimes called ‘the old Moon in the new Moon’s arms!’

      I loved that saying, I imagined myself holding my mother in my arms and telling her how much I loved her!  

 ”. 

     'Daisy,' the vet spoke gently as though speaking to a child, ‘it’s not good little lady,’ he said stroking her head with one finger. ‘You’ve somehow managed to break your hip!’

      My arms tightened around her for I knew what that meant. Dear Daisy, our feathered child, although strong and healthy otherwise, would have to be put to sleep. I asked if I could hold her whilst this was done and it was over quite soon. She was there one minute and gone the next. The world had lost yet another great character and I had lost a great companion.

      ‘I see them like feathered children,’ said the vet sadly and I looked at him and smiled weakly.

      ‘Me too,’ I replied, fighting back the tears.

      Daisy had featured in many of my tales. She was the large white hen that always sat on the kitchen windowsill as I wrote, waiting for her grapes and a cuddle. She was the one who knew everyone and everyone knew her.

      But Daisy was a non-conformist and loved nothing better than to hunt and wonder around the pond at our home for waifs and strays. However, this time of year there is a fence to protect the hundreds of young frogs, (about to land-walk for the first time) from the likes of Daisy. But no fence was going to stop her! And it didn’t! I can only guess that she broke her hip when flying over from one side to the other.

      Back at our home for waifs and strays, Featherpin greets us. Many of you already know Featherpin, she was the first hen we rescued, eight years ago.  Knocking on deaths door at the battery farm, she has outlived all her original friends.  It was wonderful to see her.

                                                 Goodnight Daisy! Until we meet again......

“If having a soul means being able to feel love and loyalty and gratitude, then animals are better off than a lot of humans.” – James Herriot