In Search of Pebbles

It was a pretty day today and let's face it, how many of them are we likely to get this time of year? So Mum, Sis and I went down the Mumbles for the afternoon.
We sat in the car as the wind was pretty thin and we drank hot chocolate and ate fairy cakes while watching the gulls bob up and down on the swell.

And then I went beach combing

On the list of my favourite things, rock pools are surely in the top ten, especially ones that the tide has just left.

I was in search of pebbles of which there were more than a few.

Mostly on the beach,

but some on ledges as if laid by a rather absent minded dragon.

The above are quite small specimens, a little smaller than a hens egg and they will do just perfectly as warp weights for my tablet weaving. There is no more reason to stall on this little project. I have had the tablets for weeks and I have all the yarn a girl would ever need. I even have a proper reason/ goal for the braid rather than just pootling about. But...but...but I am loath to get going on it. Procrastination - I duz it.

As you can see, I have found the camera, so there will probably be an increase in posts for a while...at least until I lose the camera again.
Hope you had a pretty day too.

I Went to the Market...

Do you remember that game? We played it a lot as kids. Well I went marketing medieval style on Sunday last. The Living History fair in Leamington Spa was jam packed full of traders offering almost everything that a re-enactor needs.

So...

Me: I went to the market and I bought...

a thurible. (Fabulous word that isn't it? It's an incense burner and I bought three packs of delicious incense.)
V: I went to market and bought a gambeson (a padded jacket for wearing under chain mail)
Me: I went to market and bought five wooden bowls
V: I went to market and bought a pair of boots (thigh high, black leather and yes, they are almost as kinky as they sound)

Me: I went to market and bought three horn spoons, some bells, a wooden shuttle and a beater for tablet weaving

V: I went to the market and rather fancied getting a helmet but thought I'd hang on a bit as they were flipping expensive and I just bought a sword on e bay.
Me: I went to market and bought eight yards of linen and ten yards of wool. Because, let's face it, you can never have too much wool right?

Did you notice? I bought far more stuff than V but I spent way less. I feel very pleased about that.

Today

We went to Ewenny Pottery and watched the potter at work. There is something magical about watching something being created and we stood entraced for ages. I eventually tore myself away to buy the cutest little brown mug for winter mulled wine.

We had lunch in Ogmore at The Pelican, one of our favourite pubs. Like a good blogger I took pictures of the food to taunt you with. V had poached salmon in a white wine and cream sauce and it was beyond delicious. My honey roasted ham with home made apple chutney was just as good and very filling. I have left overs for my tea.

And then we went on to Southerndown and one of my favourite things in the world...

A walled garden...

It was sleepy and warm, sheltered against the cold wind that was blowing off the sea.

And there were still flowers spangled about

Autumn sunshine poured lazily through the tangled apple trees but the sun was so low it felt almost wintery. Not long to go before the frosts arrive I think.

We enjoyed the golden afternoon.


Hope your weekend is just as lovely.

The Big Pit, Blaenafon

Blaenafon wears a grey sky well I think.

The Big Pit, or Pwll Mawr is on the eastern edge of the South Wales coal field. Once a working mine, it was closed down in the early 80's due to geological problems and is now a mining museum. It produced steam coal rather than anthracite which was brought out of the Neath Valley (where I live, further over to the west).
The tour guides are all ex miners, some of whom worked here when it was still in production. So they really know their stuff. I laughed when our guide asked us what kind of coal was the best and I replied anthracite and he said steam coal was best... the Welsh are funny people sometimes.

Old trams.

These would carry a tonne of coal each. That is enough to keep a decent sized house warm all year.

The forge

The Big Pit was self sufficient for spares and parts. They made everything they needed on site.
This was one of the better places to work. But it still must have been terribly hot and noisy.

Maggie and Arthur

They used to take canaries down the mine as the first ever carbon monoxide detectors.
When the bird keeled over it was time to get the hell out.
Someone with a fine sense of irony named these two Maggie and Arthur*.
Apparently they get on very well...

The pit head wheel

These were a common sight all over South Wales and much of Northern England too. The last deep pit in Wales - Tower colliery- closed six months ago. The coal field is not exhausted yet, there are still plenty of open cast mines about, two in my valley alone, but few Welsh work there now. And frankly, after the underground tour, I can understand why. It must have been hellish. My father went down the pit at 14 years of age, leaving for national service three years later. He has always said that he preferred the Palestinian War to going back underground.

The widow maker

So called not because of the awful teeth, but because of the dust that it threw up.
My grandfather died of "the Dust" - a colloquial term for any miner's lung disease

The stock yard

Keepers Pond

This is out of Blaenafon, on the mountains that surround the town. This is a man made pond to supply water, not for the town, but for industry. Here we were standing on the very edge of the South Wales coal field and over to the right, about half a mile away is the remnants of Garndyrus Forge, where the pig iron from Blaenafon Ironworks was brought and made into machines, girders and sleepers for the whole world.

It was very cold up there and I did not fancy exploring. We headed down the mountain road toward Abergavenny, a rich, soft and gentle market town, starkly different from where we had just come from and V commented on how in just three life times that things could be so changed. I thought about my grandfather who died a few months before I was born but of whom I have been told so many stories that I feel as though I knew him well. I reckon George Gwilym would have looked at his grand daughter with her pretty car and free time and he would have been utterly delighted.

It has been said that coal stays in the blood for four generations, in which case it will not be out of ours until my great great grandchild is born. There is nothing romantic about mining, nothing at all, but I have stories from my family: of heroism in pit falls, of bare knuckle fights by the pit wheel, of cheats, lunatics, hilarity and sorrow that I will pass on to my own daughters so that they will not forget where they sprang from. There is nothing romantic about those stories either, most of them being about fierce and sometimes desperate times, but there is something about them that stirs me, that calls to me and I want my children to have that call too, a touch from the past to remember the pride of the Neath valley, a place that I hold very very dear.


* Maggie and Arthur - if you are interested, click on the link for a competent discussion of the Miners Strike of 1984-85

Of Whitebait

We went to the Worm's Head for lunch today

Not a peculiar name for a pub but a spit of land into the sea at the furthest point of the Gower peninsular. There is a causeway at low tide so you can go and see seals basking on the rocks.

Lunch was fresh fish. These poor little things were swimming last night, But I think whitebait tastes too good to live. I almost got V to eat one until he saw a tiny eye glaring at him through the breadcrumbs.

%&($! Thats a whole thing!
Yup *crunching with relish*
%&($! *shuddering at the monster that he married*
said monster just giggles

The view from the table

We sat there in the afternoon sun watching some poor dab try to surf in knee high waves while two loonies parascended off the facing mountain. I debated whether I would be any good at having a go. V thought it would be asking for trouble - especially after whitebait.

We finished off with Joe's ice cream down the marina. It was a pleasant afternoon.