Cwnoernant Reservoir Path

The reservoir this morning was beautiful with the sun breaking through the trees. The mallards and goosander were bobbing in the water, which had a layer of mist across it. The frost-covered branches were shimmering a grey purple with patches of light catching the tops. Very picturesque. The painting above is of the footpath around Cwmoernant reservoir but not the one I was looking for which has gone walkabout on the computer.

Anyway I was talking to our son last night and he was relaying his experiences over the New Year in Ireland. He took his wife and children to visit our daughter in laws family. They arrived at Pembroke Dock Port in their white people carrier and sat in a queue of cars waiting to board the ferry. Next thing he notices a hire car pull up 2 spaces away with other relatives of ours in it. It was our daughter’s mother and father in law a lovely couple who come from Tullamore. They were on their way back home. Anyway he got out of the car and walked around to the drivers side door stood over the car so they couldn’t see his face and then requested their passports, then tickets then driving documents and anything else he could think of until he couldn’t hold his laughter any further. They eventually realised who he was and they had a good chat. Our son returned to his car but in the meantime another white people carrier had joined the waiting cars in between them. At this point Phillip the father in law gets out of his car and walks up the driver of the people carrier thinking it is our son and continues a conversation with him. He gets out his mobile phone and passes it to the driver. It apparently it had a joke on it. Now Phillip the father in law is very softly spoken and quite difficult to understand particularly with a strong Irish accent.  Our son and family were in fits as they watched the driver of the people carrier pass the mobile phone to his wife and back. They obviously had no idea who this person was that had suddenly come up to them and enter a long conversation with them. The look on their faces was something to behold. Eventually Phillip realised his mistake and left them bewildered but probably impressed by the friendliness of the Irish.

Yes we have a very interesting but lovely large family!

Today I am off to watch the Scarlets play Northampton. So fingers crossed.  


                        

Binge Drinking

The watercolour sketch is of Shortland farm near Druidstone where we like to stop in our camper. The problem we have is that we like to go out of season and many of the best sites are shut. I like piece and quiet, to get away so the summer is mostly out and in any case we are generally exhibiting then or generally tied up.
We often camp in sub zero temperatures and the only problem we get is when the water freezes up.
Alex thinks we live in subzero temperatures as I am not too keen on having the heating on. Have you seen the price of oil?

I was listening to the debate the other day on Scottish Independence. I have mixed views. My grandfather was Scottish and a deal of my family are Welsh. At the end of the day I take the view it is up to them to decide, that is what democracy is all about. Anyway I was reminded about the book of Aneirin. An old Welsh manuscript in the University Library of Wales. It contains a story Y Goddoddin  about Celtic warriors from the Brythonic Kingdon in Scotland who along with their allies from Wales went South to fight the Angles and Saxons. Three hundred warriors met and apparently spent one year feasting and drinking mead before setting off to fight the invading Angles and Saxons. It must have been something of a suicide mission
as they faced and army of ten thousand. I suppose this explains the year of drinking beforehand. The warriors met at Catraeth (Catterick) and fought for several days. Only three of the Britains survived. To be honest I think the years feasting would have killed me off never mind the March and then a battle.

Today I have been in the Gallery again. Tomorrow its Rugby.

Carry On

Well what a Carry On. A very interesting 24 hours. Our sister in law arrived last night with our nephew and his Vietnamese girlfriend. They only stopped until this morning but it was very nice to see them as he lives in Vietnam and we haven’t seen them for some time. You can image we had a good meal and plenty of family, grandchildren. My mother was particularly pleased to see him although she was very confused about what relative he actually is. Whenever there is a lot of excitement or a break in her routine there is normally a reaction. So last night when we made our way to bed Alex and I were particularly pleased it had all passed off well and my Mother had gone off to bed without any drama.
I had to be off early today as I was constructing an office in the gallery with Martin our treasurer and also had to go out to check on a storage heater. All went well. I walked the dogs and left our guest sleeping. Alex sorted out breakfast for them, took them to say goodbye to my Mom and then got on washing bedding and cleaning ready for our daughter, grandson and dog to come on Saturday. In the afternoon she had several phone calls to deal with in respect of framing. She then had to take the dog out as I was working in the gallery. She only got opposite my mother’s house when she was called over. My mother had her meals on wheels stopped to go over to frozen meals, which her lunchtime carer prepared. She found my mother looking at a sandwich. The carer had got it all mixed up and my mom had no dinner other than the sandwich. Unfortunately my mom doesn’t like bread! Meantime the dog still on a lead is being coaxed by my mother to come to her with the soggy sandwich. Alex is trying to sort out food and then an ambulance pulls up. Two ambulance men come in. Alex is now part of some surreal play. It seems that my mother pressed her emergency call button before Alex arrived. My mother is lapping it up and talking nonsense to the ambulance men who are now seriously considering taking her in. Alex has to explain that this is normal and apologise for the call out and the dog who is now causing chaos. Witnessing this strange event is my mother’s cleaner who comes once a week to iron and clean.

When Alex picked me up she was convinced she had been in a Carry On Movie. I assured her I had a very pleasant and productive day even though I hadn’t had the chance to do any painting, again!

Oh the watercolour sketch above is of a small boat at Borth Y Guest in North Wales

With Snowdonia in the distance.

A Childs Garden of Verses

The watercolour sketch above is from N. Wales near Trawsfynydd. It’s one of those weeks this week 2 days in the gallery relatives coming today and work in the gallery tomorrow.

I am not a real fan of poetry. I have said before Dylan Thomas goes straight over my head. I know I should say he is wonderful, but I am afraid I can’t because it doesn’t communicate anything to me. I have no vision of what he is talking about. I think Richard Burton has a wonderful voice when reading Dylan Thomas but he could just as easily be reading a shopping list for me. One book of poetry I did grow up with and love was,

“A Childs Garden of Verses” by Robert L. Stevenson.

That book for me is a projection of innocence. It is poetry I can follow to this day. I still have the volume although it is a little worse for being well thumbed and read to various generations of the family. The illustrations too are wonderful, black and white etchings by Charles Robinson. So maybe I am not quite a Philistine, but then again maybe I am.

Below is Bed in summer a child’s view of grown up logic.

In winter I get up at night

And dress by yellow candlelight.

In summer quite the other way,

I have to go to bed by day.

I have to go to bed and see

The birds still hopping on the tree,

Or hear the grown-up people's feet

Still going past me in the street.

And does it not seem hard to you,

When all the sky is clear and blue,

And I should like so much to play,

To have to go to bed by day?

Beddgelert

The watercolour sketch was one I did when Alex, Jac and I visited Beddgelert last year. A lovely spot with a heart-rending legend. Well it is if you are an animal lover like me. The legend is written on the "grave" of Gelert as below:

"In the 13th century Llewelyn, prince of North Wales, had a palace at Beddgelert. One day he went hunting without Gelert, "The Faithful Hound", who was unaccountably absent.

On Llewelyn's return the truant, stained and smeared with blood, joyfully sprang to meet his master. The prince alarmed hastened to find his son, and saw the infant's cot empty, the bedclothes and floor covered with blood.

The frantic father plunged his sword into the hound's side, thinking it had killed his heir. The dog's dying yell was answered by a child's cry.

Llewelyn searched and discovered his boy unharmed, but near by lay the body of a mighty wolf which Gelert had slain.

The prince filled with remorse is said never to have smiled again. He buried Gelert here".

Today we dropped off our camper van and picked up paintings from the Ceri Richards Gallery in Swansea then came back to pick up the grandchildren. A meeting of the co-operative tonight.

Worlds Most Expensive email Address

The oil painting above is of fishing trawlers off a headland. They are actually Brixham Trawlers and were very popular around the South and West Coast at the turn of the 20th century.

Personalised number plates are not something that appeals to me. I have a good a reason for that well actually two. One is the cost and the other is that I wouldn’t want to draw attention to myself. I am not a bad driver but on the other hand not a great one either. It would be all too easy to remember that car with 

 ART 1 registration that accidentally cut you up or pulled out without looking. With an indistinctive number like our plate it’s just an other old man in a flat cap!

Now my email has been a pain lately. Not arriving where it should, refusing to send group emails…So I eventually decided to bite the bullet and change email to Gmail.

My old email address was markcox@…… and obviously I wanted something similar with my name and without numbers. The problem was they were all gone. So decision time you can buy personalised email addresses. They are very expensive. I didn’t want to do that.

I looked at my business card and found the answer. My Business card was Mark Cox BA. “Eureka” that was available. Finally I have found something useful to come from my old degree in fine art. (Actually that is a bit harsh, I enjoyed it but the course wasn’t much to do about painting, not as I understand it anyway.). Anyway the Degree cost me a fortune.

So I reckon at the end of the day I have probably got the Worlds Most expensive email address.

Bascule Bridge

The watercolour above is of the Bascule or lifting Bridge at Johnstown Carmarthen.

Bascule is French and means see saw. This I guess refers to the fact that a Bascule bridge has a large weight to counterbalance it at one end.

The Rail Bridge crosses the River Towy and was built by the Great Western Railway in the 1930’s. It is no longer in use and was apparently last lifted for Major Fisher- Hock to bring his yacht up the Towy to Carmarthen in the 1950’s. The Fisher-Hocks until quite recently were the occupiers of the Plas at Llansteffan. The Plas is the large white mansion next to the Llansteffan Castle overlooking the village. Not quite Downton Abbey but going that way.

Incidentally his yacht was called Pisces of Towy.

This morning the walk over the top was glorious. I set out as day was breaking and when Jac and I got to the top of Penlanffos the sky was orange and yellow in the East with light reflecting of the river in the valley. Later this morning Alex and I had a walk on the beach at Llansteffan with Jac and then tried to trace a short in the electrical system on the camper van (in vain I might add). We have found the circuit but not the cause although a relay is suspect.