Kidwelly

Kid-welly is an old town named after a Welsh cowboy – well, if you believe that you will believe anything! I can’t see a Welsh cowboy running around in a pair of Wellies shooting up cow thieves in in order to maintain his nationalistic independence but there we are.

No really and jokes aside, Kidwelly is a small town in Carmarthenshire, population about 3500. It has some history attached to it, the earliest written form of the name, ‘Cetgueli’, is recorded by the monk, Nennius, writing in the 9th century. One theory of the name is that it comes from the joining of two river beds, Gwendraeth Fawr and Gwendraeth Fach, wherein Cydweli (the Welsh version) lies. The town itself is ancient, established by written records at around the twelfth century. As for its history, it has a castle built in around 1106 and a Norman parish church, both a delight to the eyes and something that attracts tourists into the area – I can’t say that this fills me with joy, it means that there is nowhere to park the car anywhere!

Anyway, that’s Kidwelly for you apart from the Industrial Revolution when brickworks and tinworks were the order of the day.

How did I end up here, you might well ask? Pure chance it must be said, I was working in Birmingham (having spent a large part of my adult life in England) and getting divorced, so I bought a property in Wales and ended up in Kidwelly.

It was a good choice as it turned out.

Gone is the crammed crush of London and cheerio to the mighty swathes of people that hold power in the cities. The life in rural Wales is far gentler, more bespoke to my writing inclinations. Kidwelly is a comfortable place to live. The people are kind and welcoming, it’s certainly a place to be, if one can call it that.

As age creeps up on me and my eyesight tries to catch everything, I cannot thank of a more salubrious place to die. At night the streets are quiet and during the day light hours there is an awakening of activity. The chemist run at full tilt and the coffee shops take the pro-found yells of tea and biscuits. Walking my dog along the estuary gives me a moment to reflect and think of things that may or may not happen. It’s a cherished second of individual thought.

So all I can say, is that the town holds something, it might be the peace, it might be a quiet deliberation but all in all it’s a pleasant way to end the journey of a lifetime.

No more shuffling around!

Jeremy Corbyn is in a mixture of detachment and general indecision. One cannot blame him in this. He neither knows which way his party will vote or what they want – a political nightmare on anybody’s scale. It might have something to do with his back slapping and his hugging of far left politicians eg Chavez (now deceased) of Venezuela, Hamas, Hezbollah etc. But this is not the point, at the moment.

A firmness is needed, just as in the Tory party. We are all fed up with the machinations that are going on politically. The nation has voted for out of the EU and this is what that means – out. When are we going to have someone who will say, ‘We’re off now, we’re out’, but just remember your own European industrial empire will suffer just as much as ours and no amount of cocktails and fine food will alter this.

So go to blue blazes to all you in the European Union, we’ve stood on our own and for a good few years and we will manage it again! And come to that, we no longer want to be in a European state taking trade deals ruled by you. Enough is enough.

Well, that’s enough of Brexit for now, heavens knows how much argument and back stabbing will continue to subsist as long as there are politicians embroiled in a momentous fight to win the last scalp!

On a lighter note, have you noticed all the bacterial and antiseptic wipes mothers use now? It’s all mind bending stuff I can tell you. What happened to children being allowed to play in the woods and coming back home in a right royal filthy mess. I was one of these misdemeanant louts. And we were  told to your wash your hands before we ate. That’s it. Look at what we’ve got now? Children who can’t handle any colds for fear being enclosed in an oxygen tent!

It’s all going mad. The nanny state? Gone are the good old days of playing and childish acts of valour. We’re missing something here and I think it’s the computerisation of our young. You may laugh but I think it’s a problem we shall have to conjure up some detailed response to, mark my words

That’s a depressing column for you, but let’s just say, hope, is all we’ve got!

Let’s see

The playwright John Osborne (now deceased) wrote in the 70’s, the politicians’ ‘ritual incantation of phrases – like “Inflation”, “National Unity”, “Priorities” and “Social Contracts” only concealed ‘the nasty reality of the awful brutishness of most of English life today’.

Well, he has something here. What with Northern Ireland, strikes, financial ruin and two Governments brought down by the Unions etc in the 1970’s. Has anything changed? People talk about Brexit being the last decision of great importance that the Government has reached since the Second World War. Well, commentators had better look back into their history books – me included! Turmoil and crisis is the way of political endeavour, it always has been. We British like a good scrap! And if it’s the French or Germans, good luck to all in sundry!

Really, when one comes to think of it, Brexit is all about fighting with the European Union – nothing new here, again look at our history. And whatever the outcome is, it’s all as nothing when compared to our noble history. Frankly, I’m fed up with writing the word ‘Brexit’, no doubt many of you feel the same way.

So, nothing more about this impasse, Brexit that is – whenever that will happen.

It’s a New Year and all the political shenanigans that go with it. The back stabbing, the self-righteous howls of me, me, me and how much can I make out of it, goes on. All politicians are the same, good and bad. The well-being of the planet, the destruction of our education system, the annihilation of the Health Service and so on, all prevail as if nothing much has happened.

All I can say, is nothing has changed but here’s the thing, I still feel quite happy to be born in the British Isles. We are as a nation strong and deliberate and with an intent that cannot be compared with any other nation.

Its time now to put all the arguments aside. We must come together for the good of British nationality, for the good of ourselves.

It is time to say, enough – well, hope would be a fine thing!