Whitchurch and Llandaff Living Issue 20

Issue 20October/November 2012

YOUR FREE MAGAZINE

FOR WHITCHURCH, LLANDAFF

AND LLANDAFF NORTH

Llandaff Under Threat:Major development plans threaten rural Llandaff

Photos From the ‘80s:Do you recognise some local faces?

WHITCHURCH AND LLANDAFF

Issue 20

LivingLivingFREE!

2

3news

5letters

8interview

21short story

16local issues

15old photos

25pets page

29recipes

31column

In the other gardens, and all up the vale, from the autumn bonfi res, see the smoke trail! Not my words, but that of someone clever - Robert Louis Stevenson. As a kid, autumn was my favourite time of year. As a family, we loved the idea of being ‘cosy’. It was great to get into our ‘snugglies’ and close the curtains to the autumn storms that were rolling in. At night then, it was great to take a book to bed and read it by torchlight under the sheets while the rain pattered on the windows. We’ve put together a great autumn issue for you, whether you read it under the sheets, on the bus or in the coff ee shop. Firstly we speak to local musician Dewi Griffi ths who is making waves in the South Wales music scene. Catch his interview on page 8. Also causing ripples in the area, but not perhaps as popular, is a proposed local development in Danescourt. You can read about the proposals and the views of some residents on page 16. Llandaff North gardener Kevin Revell pens another atmospheric gardening feature on page 12, while local author Elizabeth Cunningham puts her story-telling skills to good use on page 21. On page 15, we’ve managed to gather some fantastic photos from the 1980s. Do you recognise some local faces? Once again, please support our advertisers. Th ey make our magazines possible. Next stop Christmas! See you then!

Patric and Danielle (editors)

Welcome Croeso

A: 222 Pantbach Road, Rhiwbina, Cardiff CF14 6AGT: 07772 081775 / 07974 022920E: [email protected]: www.livingmags.co.uk

While every effort has been made to ensure the accuracy of the contents, the publisher cannot accept any responsibility for errors or omissions, or for any matter in any way arising from the publication of this material. Every effort has been made to contact any copyright holders.Whitchurch and Llandaff Living is an independent, apolitical publication.

Advertising booking and copy deadline for Issue 21 - Friday 9th November 2012. Issue 21 publication date - November 2012. Whitchurch and Llandaff Living is published 5 times a year.

Cover by Patric Morgan

22local ghosts

3

LLANDAFF NORTH COUPLE WINCOMMUNITY AWARD A Llandaff North couple have been honoured with the second Owain Glyndwr Seren Award for helping to run a community centre for 40 years. Husband and wife Alan and Ann Davies were announced as the winners at Cardiff ’s City Hall held in September. Th e award was created to reward people in Cardiff who may have shown exceptional courage, be celebrated and respected within their community or demonstrated excellence in a particular fi eld. “Th is has come as a surprise to us. We are over the moon.” said Ann, 72. Th e couple have been married for 51 years. Th e couple were nominated by local councillors Siobhan Corria and Dilwar Ali for the work they do in the Llandaff North community. Councillor Ali said: “Th ey have put in many hours of work for the community in Llandaff North and we appreciate what they’ve done for the community.” Th e couple have looked aft er the day-to-day running of the community centre, which is used by a vast amount of groups.

Living Magazines editor Patric Morgan has won national honours at a recent award ceremony. Patric won the ‘Best Writing in a Blog’ Award at the 2012 Wales Blog Awards, organised by MediaWales and Warwick Emanuel PR. His blog, about his father’s battle with cancer, was described by the judges as ‘moving and gripping’. It has also drawn much acclaim from its readers, calling it ‘a wonderful piece of work’ and ‘beautiful and brave’. “I started the blog as a way of getting my emotions out,” says Patric. “Back in early summer, two things happened - my dad was diagnosed with cancer and my friend Lucy [Dickenson] set up her own blog. Lucy had set up her own charity which helps people worldwide and it was the personal account of her struggles that inspired me to start my own. Sadly, Lucy passed away in a tragic accident when in Africa back in August. My blog is therefore dedicated to both my family, and to Lucy.” Patric will be looking to complete the blog in October.

“Once it’s fi nished, I intend to publish it as an E-book and raise some money for Velindre Hospital in Whitchurch.” Th e Wales Blog Awards are now in their third year, and were set up to celebrate the best blogs (a website containing the writer’s or group of writers’ own experiences, observations, opinions) in Wales. “Blogs allow people with a passion for a subject to expand on it, become an expert and share their knowledge with others. In some areas of the country they act as community noticeboards, while others are breaking great sports news for all to see.” said a Wales Blog Awards spokesperson. Th e awards ceremony was held last month at the Royal Welsh College of Music and Drama in Cardiff . Th e ceremony awarded those who write creative and interesting blogs on a range of subjects including sport, politics and their local community. Patric’s blog can be found at www.donotgogentlyintothatt-goodnight.blogspot.co.uk/

newsMAN CHARGED WITH NOISY DUCKS

A Whitchurch man has been ordered to pay £270 over his noisy ducks following a year-long dispute with neighbours.

Top Award

for Living Magazines

EditorMAGAZINE EDITOR SCOOPS NATIONAL

AWARD AT WALES BLOG AWARDS

4

Th e Cathedral School Llandaff , Cardiff ’s leading co-educational independent school, has reported two thirds of all GCSE entries graded A* or A, with 100% of pupils gaining fi ve or more examinations graded A*-C. At the top end, three quarters of pupils gained fi ve or more A* and A grades, including Claire Shadwell who gained 12 A*s. She said: “I’m really pleased with what I’ve achieved! It’s a great way for me to end a great time at the Cathedral School!” Samuel Vaughan gained eight A*s and three As. He said: “I’m extremely happy with my results – it wouldn’t have happened without the support of my teachers. I’m really looking forward to going on to study

Biology, Chemistry, Geography and German at A level.” Headmaster Stephen Morris expressed his joy at these high achievements: “Once again these are fabulous results, which show how much can be achieved with expert teaching and diligent hard work. Praised by Estyn (March 2012) as ‘one of the highest performing schools in Wales’, the Cathedral School’s approach of solid academic teaching in traditional subjects, along with a wide co-curricular programme and an emphasis upon pupils’ leadership skills has again proved to be a winning formula. Well done to all of our pupils.” Th e school will host an Open Morning on Saturday 6th October 2012, 10:00am-12:30pm.

news POLICE STATIONS CLOSED

Police stations at Ely, Llanishen, Llanedeyrn, Roath, Cathays and St Mellons have now closed for good.

It’s Easy as ABC(with a few A*s too!)

Cathedral School Llandaff Reports Top GCSE Grades

Record payment made for WWII medals

Cardiff Council has begun making watertight the Stables at Insole Court to protect the building over the winter. Following the success of receiving £761,724 from the Big Lottery and Welsh Government, the Insole Court Trust, in partnership with Cardiff Council, is currently preparing a Round

Two application to the Heritage Lottery Fund for £2.2m. If this bid is successful, work could begin on the Stables Community Hub in Spring/Summer 2013, to be completed in the Autumn. All community activity - adult education classes, keep-fi t, 50+ meetings - could then be transferred to the Stables.

INSOLE COURT BEGINS ROUND TWO OF ITS FUNDING - AND ALSO GETS A SPOT OF WEATHER-PROOFING!

An artist’s impression of the restoration

A local businesswoman has paid a record-breaking £395,000 at auction to buy a heroic World War II fi ghter pilot’s medal collection. Melissa John bought the medals to honour the memory of her late brother Christopher, who died suddenly at his home in Llandaff in 2008 aged just 47. Melissa outbid other collectors and overseas museums to get RAF night fi ghter ace John Cunningham’s medals. Both brother and sister were instilled with a great respect for military valour by their father Christopher Aubrey John, who was a major in the Royal Signals in World War II. Proceeds from the sale will now go towards a £13.4m project to build a museum and education centre at the RAF’s wartime headquarters of Bentley Priory, in Harrow, London. Group Captain Cunningham took down 20 German bombers over the English Channel.

5

REMEMBERING THE PHILOGAfter reading some of your excellent historical features in previous issues, I was reminded of the various shops and businesses we used to have along The Philog area of Whitchurch over the past 50 to 60 years. I have lived in this area for most of my life with just a short spell of 13 years in nearby Rhiwbina and have seen many changes during that time. As a young lad I well remember going shopping with my mother to the local shops. In those days (in the 1950s at least) there were no supermarkets so we always had to use the local tradespeople. Our grocery shopping was originally done at Ideal Stores (now Super Spanner car parts). It was run by Mr & Mrs Chivers and was later sold to Mr Charrington. They sold all sorts of groceries and at the rear of the shop was the counter serving fresh bacon, cooked ham etc. Next door to this was ‘The Stalling Down’ - a small greengrocers shop which was run by the three King sisters and their brother. A few doors down from this was a small ironmongers owned by Mr & Mrs John. I remember we used to go there to get our supplies of paraffin for our stove. In addition to the usual ironmongers goods, they had a small selection of sweets and I remember buying loose sherbet by the quarter in that shop. Further along The Philog, in the opposite direction, where Aztec Hair Salon now stands, were two more grocery shops.

First was Hayward’s.Originally it was owned by the Bayliss family. It had a chewing gum vending machine on the wall outside. A few doors along was Worthing’s which was owned by Fred and Babs Worthing. This was a smaller shop but was always crammed with all sorts of things. We used to go there to buy our frozen Jubblys! The local newsagent belonged to Mrs Jenkins and her daughter Clarice. Their shop was right by the Philog bus stop and is now empty. As well as newspapers, they used to sell confectionery, stationary and tobacco goods. My father was always sending me to get an ounce of his St Bruno Flake or a box of matches. In those days it wasn’t illegal to sell these items to kids. Further along The Philog was Eddy’s the Bakers. A small block of flats aptly named Baton Court now occupies these premises. It was a lovely shop, run by old Mr Eddy and his son Dick and daughter Martha. I remember they had a lovely selection of bread and cakes and had trays of delicious buns and hot meat pies. I believe the actual bakery was at the rear of the premises. Opposite Eddy’s on the other side of The Philog, on the corner of Wauntreoda Road, was a butcher’s shop, originally owned by Mr Hurley. There was sawdust over the floor and always big sides of meat hanging around the shop on large hooks. The business was later taken over by Norman Morgan then Burkes. It is now a nail salon. Right at the other end of The

Philog, towards The Common, was the Post Office, which was owned and run by Mr & Mrs Charles. It had several subsequent proprietors but sadly it was finally closed a few years ago and has been converted to a private dwelling. Unfortunately, the Post Box was also removed and although there is still a Post Box at the other end of The Philog, there are no others until you get to the Post Office in the village. A Mrs Lewis used to run a small private lending library combined with a shop which sold wool and patterns. This operated from the front room of her house which was opposite Worthing’s Grocery shop. The Dairy was situated on the corner of The Philog and Maelog Road and I remember going there occasionally to get a pint of milk if we had run out at home.Finally, there was Taylor’s Garage on The Common. They sold Regent petrol and it was later taken over by Texaco. It is now Johnsons Dry Cleaners. From what was once a thriving area for local businesses, there are now only five businesses in operation. How times have changed!DAVID GRIFFITHSWhitchurch

lettersIf you’d like to get in touch, you can find our address on the inside front cover. Alternatively, you can email us [email protected]

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Sat relaxing in a large armchair of his Rhiwbina home is Dewi

Griffi ths. He’s very much at ease. Th ere’s a piano in the room, lid open, and a few sheets of music scattered on the top. Other than that, there’s no indication that the man sat opposite is fast becoming a rising star in the Welsh music scene. With one album already drawing glowing praise, and appearances on national TV, the guitarist is modest about his achievements to date.

“I’ve always loved music,” says Dewi. “My dad used to have hundreds of singles when I was a kid. I tried my hand at a few instruments when I was at school – cello, piano, cornet, euphonium. I learnt the basics of reading music but didn’t go on to study it too much. In many ways, having not learnt the rules, I didn’t feel constrained by them when it came to writing my own music.”

Mostly self-taught, Dewi began jotting down songs that came

into his head.“I’d spend a day singing a song

in my head before realising that I’d never heard it before and it was in fact, one that I’d made up. Most of the songs on my fi rst album were written in my bed in university. I was always writing them when I should have been doing essays or assignments. Having something more important to do has always been the time when I seem to be the most productive with my writing.

“From the age of about 13, the guitar was lending itself to me. Th ere didn’t seem to be much calling for euphonium players in the world. With the guitar, I was able to learn from tab, a simplifi ed way of learning to play guitar. But I learnt most of it from experimentation. If it sounded good, I kept playing it.”

In September 2010, Dewi recorded his fi rst album, called ‘Why Dewi Quit the Call Centre’.

“Th ere was a lot of fuss made in the press about this hard-working call centre worker breaking out and making a name

for himself. I remember being pressed on it by a journalist from a local regional newspaper. It wasn’t quite like the way it was reported as I hadn’t been in the job that long. But technically it’s true. Th e name was just the fi rst thing that came into my head and we recorded it in our front room. Th e songs on it dated back a few years. Th e good thing about it was that I’d had time to perfect them.”

Cardiff ’s Miniature Music Press heaped praise on the album, describing it as “…9 songs of exquisite technicality, impassioned playing and genuine beauty.”

“I was doing a lot of open mic evenings earlier this year. I wasn’t doing it to become rich and famous. I just loved playing music.”

In July, Dewi played at St David’s Hall as part of the Welsh Proms, marking a small breakthrough in his career.

“I wasn’t expecting the call to be honest. I’d walked into St David’s Hall a few weeks earlier,

Guitar Man

8

interview

Guitar Man handed them over an example of my work and hoped that I’d get a call to do some support slot for someone else. Th is is what I’d been doing for the past few years. Th en they called me up and asked if I’d like my own hour. I couldn’t say ‘Yes’ quick enough. It was great – I even had my little write-up in their monthly ‘What’s On’ guide. It seemed weird seeing my name in it!”

Th e last few months have really seen the music scene sit up and take notice of Dewi.

“Th is year really has been a learning curve for me. Whereas a year ago, I was wandering into pubs and clubs, asking to see the manager, and showing them a video of me on my mobile phone, I’ve now got my own website and have become a bit more media savvy. I’m still learning of course.”

But more importantly, Dewi has been picking up all-important accolades throughout 2012.

“I’m very proud to say I’ve won the fi rst prize in the solo strings section of the Eisteddfod this year.” And as word has been getting around, he’s being invited to play at other

prestigious gigs.“Yeah, I played at the Lord

Mayor’s Charity Gala Concert at the Millennium Centre back in April. I’ve played at the St Donat’s Arts Festival in July, and I’ve been making regular appearances on S4C and numerous radio stations. I’ve even been to America to play. Th roughout August, I was playing at the Welsh Assembly every weekend.”

When he’s not playing to the public, Dewi is working on his second album.

“Th e second album was always going to be diffi cult as I used all my back catalogue of songs on my fi rst album. I’m having to start from scratch with this one. I have decided that I will be using introducing other instruments into this album though. I’m also toying with the idea of a tour. Having played to crowds now, I’ve been able to react to them and fi gure out what they seem to like and what they’re not so keen on.”

A lot of the music critics are agreeing that Dewi’s diverse music is fi nger-pickin’ good.

“One of my songs, Spanish medley is indeed what it says on the tin, a medley of some of

my favourite Spanish tunes to play. When I started learning the guitar I was very typical of pretty much what every boy my age did, started with power chords, playing Green Day and Blink 182 etc, before moving on to blues and then being devoted to learning every note of every Led Zeppelin song. Until one day, I saw El Mariachi, and discovered my new musical obsession.”

It is an obsession that will perhaps delight the ears of many listeners to come.

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9

interview

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Autumn flowers are always welcome but when does one season start and another end? Hibiscus was once regarded as a classic autumn bloom but seems to have moved forward to late summer now, or is it that our autumns are now more pleasant than most summers? Fuchsia is indispensable at this time but has probably been flowering for months. Perhaps the archetypal autumn flower is that of Fatsia japonica, whose bizarre eruptions are attuned to day length rather than temperature. Hoverflies and wasps seem more attracted than bees but they too deserve their reward for the work they have put in throughout the year. They are currently flowering alongside the winter jasmine and the normally winter flowering Viburnum bodnatense. Many plants that perform outside of the regulation spring and early summer months seem less regimented and more rebellious as they flower in small bursts off and on through autumn and into winter. The onset of autumn is often marked by the prominence of spiders in the garden - not

hiding in the undergrowth, but bold-as-brass, sentinel-like in the centre of dew-bejewelled webs each morning, looking a little bit larger than the day before until sufficiently well fed to overwinter in some hiding place among the logs and stones stacked in odd corners of the garden. Their winter store is hard won however as the web must be constructed anew each night at considerable effort and expenditure in spun silk. Pity them as you brush their labours from your hair or clothes each morning. Occasionally, a long spring followed by a warm summer will lead to a wonderful show where the autumn colour of the rowans, maples and liquidambers goes on and on. Ideally a period of sunny, calm days allows a slow build up of autumn colour in the shortening days; daily changes visible in a whole tree or perhaps an avenue of trees are a joy to behold and light up the landscape like a torch. The show does not end there; whole creeper-clad walls once verdant green now turn a shocking red revealing the presence of Virginia creeper or Boston ivy. It pays not to devote

all your walls solely to spring flowering clematis and wisteria. If the house has four walls there is one available for each season, when there is no apparent space left in the garden, it is time to exploit the often ignored vertical surfaces. Once there was a time when cold, still days were followed by sharp frosts at night time which hastened the fall of leaves from the trees, but those days are long gone. The changing foliage colour is caused by pigments in the leaf used for protection from ultra-violet light being revealed by the breakdown of the chloroplasts. These contain the green pigment chlorophyll, a valuable molecule, the constituent parts of which are reclaimed and stored by the plant through winter. If the display looks good enough to eat it may be because the revealed caretenoid and anthocyanin pigments are familiar to us as they also occur in flowers and fruit and often have nutritional benefits to ourselves. Protective tannins in the leaves cause most higher animals to leave tree leaves well alone so it is left to the micro-flora and fauna of bacteria, fungi, worms

12

theautumn gardenby Kevin Revell

Kevin Revell is Plant Area Manager at Caerphilly Garden Centre and is a Llandaff North resident 13

and woodlice to reap the plentiful harvest. Exploring a deposit of leaf mould is like archaeology, with a valuable resource buried for those who quest in the garden. It makes a superb mulch or soil conditioner so when conditions allow, armed with bucket, brush and rake, I gather all I can before they blow away down the road, migrating east in search of a place to rest for the winter. Of course if you are close to an ash or sycamore tree the resultant leaf mould spread around the garden may come complete with lots of little surprises come spring but these weeds are easily pulled if spotted young and are reminders of the transitory nature of civilisation. The season of mellow fruitfulness begins with the dog days of summer and is often born of drought, but soon disappears under a deluge of rain and gales; often a windy blast shakes the majority of fruit off as windfalls, forcing a hasty harvest in less than ideal conditions. The musty smell of decomposing and often coddled windfall fruit is synonymous with the onset of autumn and a good

sign that it is time to harvest the rest. Growing a range of different fruit is ideal to ensure a successful harvest of some if not all. Most summer fruiting apples arrive in August without fail but late summer sun is essential for a palatable harvest and any glut must be consumed rapidly as they do not store well. Later varieties often fare better as recent seasons have seen relatively poor summers but pleasant autumns. Warm, dry days ensure a good late picking which will store well into the winter all being well. Some varieties allegedly persist on the tree well into winter but I like to bring the harvest home and take no chances with the combination of brown rot, snails, woodlice, earwigs, wasps, birds and small children all eager to test my patience. If you get the opportunity there is no doubt regarding the quality of a lightly frosted, sun burnished apple, fresh from nature’s cold store. The vegetable patch will have to be harvested and tidied, ideally the plot dug over and enriched with manure or compost prior to the sterilising, clod breaking frosts of

winter. If root crops are not dug up and stored in clamps they may be stuck until spring as winter and forgetfulness take hold. Few leaf crops will look better after the rigours of winter so get the recipe books out now and make the most of the harvest before the slugs and wood pigeons move in. Autumn is a time for reflection, of tasks not completed through the summer which will now likely be left – there’s always another year. It’s a time to hunker down and make repairs to buildings and structures likely to be damaged by the harsh weather ahead. Out of the window the last of the hazel leaves hang tired and tattered, yellow and brown; Cinderella is left frustrated as the ugly sisters have gone to the ball in all their autumn finery. A time of regret and perhaps sadness at the passing of summer or fear at the prospects ahead, indeed a worrying time for anyone haunted by fits of depression and seasonal affected disorder as the Christmas jollity threatens. The carol singers need to wear flak jackets ‘round these parts’!

Kevin Revell

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memoriesThe Whitchurch Rugby Club Grot Trot - 1980s

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Under A rural part of Llandaff has recently come under threat from a proposed development of nearly 50 dwellings. Whitchurch and Llandaff Living looks at the facts and

opinions that are dividing a community

An outline planning application for a 48-house development, at Radyr Court Road, Danescourt, has been recently submitted by London-based Nabatean Limited. According to the planning documents, the 2.18 hectare site – across the river from Hailey Park – comprises two fi elds as well as dense scrub, woodland and scattered trees. It says a public right of way runs diagonally across the site, which is currently ‘underused and overgrown’, will be diverted and an ‘open green corridor created.’ But local residents have reacted with fury at the plans, call ‘ridiculous’ and ‘pathetic’.

Canton Councillor Richard Cook, a keen cyclist and Cabinet member for children’s services, said the area “has abundant wildlife, trees and shrubs and is an important part of the river corridor for wildlife. “A previous application for some of the land included in this application was refused on appeal in 2004 and nothing has changed since.” A website has been set up to challenge the planning, and can be found at http://www.saveradyrcourtroad.org.uk/. You can also sign an online petition at the site if you feel that the development is wrong.

Glynne DTh is application has to be stopped seriously folks. Th e beautiful surroundings that is Radyr Court Road has to remain for all to enjoy. Th is is just about money and cannot be allowed to continue. We will fi ght this ludicrous plan tooth and nail until it is revoked.

Mike BLlantrisant Road, Danescourt way and Radyr Court Road are already struggling with the volume of traffi c already during rush hour traffi c and school run traffi c with no room to expand or improve the road. Why add to the problem?

local issues

17

Threat @Fairwater1963

I for one do not think it is sad, as the damage was already done when they built the sprawling estate Danescourt. Th e people of Fairwater and Llandaff were absolutely gutted when they built “yuppie” land on our beautiful countryside. I used to spend most of my summer around the area, especially Povey’s farm behind the row of houses at the bottom of the hill. It was a great place to grow up as a child. You could walk for miles through the countryside, we used to walk up as far as Pentyrch with hardly a car in sight. Imagine a young boy’s horror, when he went out to walk with his friends to the farm only to fi nd the fi eld opposite the garage, was being hacked up by JCBs. So there will be no sympathy from me. As I said the damage was already done in 1979–80. Th e word they used was progress.

Kevin Brennan MPMy Assembly colleague Mark Drakeford and I have registered our strong objections to the Radyr Court proposals and have given our full support to local residents who have submitted detailed and compelling reasons why the proposals should be rejected by the Cardiff planners.

Councillor Kirsty Davies Th is application is wholly unsuitable for this land. Th is land is well used and highly valued by the community. Th e access to the proposed development is completely unsafe. A previous application was thrown out for only 5 houses. 48 houses is a gross over development of this site and should be fought at all costs.

Laura DI have recently bought a house of my own on Danescourt and the main reason for doing so was that I want my children to be able to enjoy Danescourt and have the great childhood that I had, not to mention the danger of the traffi c that would need to use Radyr Court Road. It is far too narrow and would impose great danger to those who use it for leisure. I know only too well from childhood memories how much fun and enjoyment you can get from this woodland area.

Roger PI am absolutely appalled at the idea of this planned development. Th e lane is used constantly for cycling, walking, running, and dog walking. Th e increase in traffi c would be positively dangerous, as the road along Radyr Court Road is far too narrow, and would endanger other road users, ie. children on their way to school, walkers, cyclists and animals.

HAVE YOUR SAYIf you’d like to voice your opinion on the proposals, either for or against,

please email us at [email protected]

local issues

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It was almost legendary, the mean-ness, the downright stinginess of Uncle Herb. He was a relative of my father’s side of the family - a bachelor. The girl he courted for eight years finally saw the light, and decamped to marry a solider. It was family knowledge that he successfully played the Stock Market, and now had taken early retirement from his job as a senior civil servant. As my mother pointed out, “He’s not short of a bob or two.” In an effort to explain or excuse his frugal lifestyle, out of family loyalty I suppose, my father told us that he had been a sickly baby and - poor dab - he must have been lonely in that dark draughty barn of a house.” Uncle Herb’s appearance denied any sartorial economy. In fact, he seemed take great care of his appearance and preached that ‘quality pays’. The age and contents of his wardrobe confirmed this maxim, with his Jaeger tweed overcoat and Saville Row suits. All had survived World War II and were still his everyday apparel. A few family members had suffered from his way of life. There was Aunt Dolly for instance. Once, when he descended on us from his retreat in Pembroke Dock (which is only about an hour’s journey from Cardiff), he asked for a loan of her car. It was to visit a friend in Caerphilly. He returned it well over a week later with an empty tank. When we enquired about his own little Austin 7, the story was his arthritis (which had now miraculously disappeared) and prompted its sale. Then there was the day I had accompanied my mother to do our weekly ‘shop’ at the local supermarket. Uncle Herb tagged

along, as he wanted to buy a small bottle of whiskey in the store’s off-licence as “..it helps me to sleep.” His shopping done, my uncle joined me waiting at the side of the checkout, for my mother to pay the bill. Before this, I saw Uncle Herb pick out two paperbacks from the Bargain Offer trolley nearby, and toss them in with the groceries. Even my father was irritated by this, uncle’s latest little economy. As for my mother, my very indignant mother, she vowed his comeuppance. This is how she accomplished it. Uncle Herb often travelled with a portmanteau type of bag, with his travel case. This contained his washing, as he often reminded my mother that he had no washing machine. After the paperback incident, Mum as usual, dumped the bag’s contents into her washing machine, albeit not as usual minus the soap powder. When the washing cycle had finished, we heard an almighty roar eminating from the kitchen, and an agitated Uncle Herb then came rushing to find my mother. “Jo, look at my trousers! Look at them! Whatever soap powder d’you use?” He held them up, and there they were, in the same pre-wash condition. My mother told me afterwards “How I didn’t shriek out laughing I’ll never know. I just managed to weakly tell him that there was a good cleaners down on Corporation Road, and for a little extra cash, his trousers would be cleaned very quickly.” Soon after Uncle Herb’s last visit, there was a phone call from one of his neighbours, with news of his accident, and his subsequent stay in Withybush Hospital. We were

told that when he was discharged, his injured leg still giving him trouble, much to his reluctance, his lack of 100% mobility necessitated employing a domestic help. On a church friend’s recommendation, May Ryan, a widow, obliged. It is strange, and I have seen it happen before, how and why an accident, well - any kind of unlucky incident, can in time, turn out to be a stroke of luck. Uncle Herb’s story bears this out. To our relief and delight, and only about six months after she became Uncle Herb’s housekeeper, May Ryan was now Mrs Herbert Watkins. It was she who was responsible for our reformed Uncle Herb - the total ‘makeover’ - the complete transformation of my uncle. His facial expression was even unaltered. Gone was the ferrety-like countenance, and was replaced by a benign beam of ‘goodwill to all men’. Now there was no portmanteau, no car requests, not a flicker of anti-social behaviour of any description. Such obvious bliss lessened his family visits, nowadays though, Mr and Mrs Herbert Watkins’ Cardiff trips were welcomed by all of us. The younger members of the family were not forgotten in this ‘turn over of a new leaf ’ of my uncle, and at each visit, were given a generous addition to their pocket money. To crown it all, the present mode of travel of the happy couple was a gleaming Audi (latest model). The conversion of Herb was complete. My father summed up this little family saga,: “May Ryan. That wonderful, marvellous May. She deserves to be canonised.”

The Road to Damascus and

Uncle Herbby Elizabeth Cunningham

21

Readers’ Stories

It was about half eleven at night and a storm had been brewing all evening. Even so, it was time to take my disabled cat for a ‘walk’ to the bottom of the garden so he could visit his mud patch and do what most cats do when they are in the garden. Being disabled, my cat needed an escort to the garden aft er he’d been attacked by another local cat. He couldn’t defend himself. I’d take a torch, just to keep an eye on him as he made his way slowly from patch to patch, sniffi ng and scratching and occasionally squatting. When he’d fi nished his business, he’d fi nd a nice spot and just sit there for half hour. I’d take my mobile phone out with me. It meant that I could catch up with correspondence and browse the internet under the stars. But there were no stars out tonight. Dirty black clouds were

rolling in and whipping up some gruesome weather. I had been stood directly in the middle of the lawn, far from the reach of any trees or bushes when it came. With the light of my mobile phone blotting out the darkness around me, I was in my own little bubble, reading the latest rugby reports. Tap tap. I grabbed the top of my head. I thought a twig had landed on it. But shining my phone on the lawn, I saw nothing. Th en. A hand on my shoulder. Not just a hand. A real hard grip. I spun around and to my horror, found that there was no-one there. A thousand million tiny little pins prickled my entire body and fi zzed to the top of my head. In the darkness, I could sense someone there. Quickly I retreated towards the house, not daring to look back. I caught sight of a dark shadow moving alongside me. I yelped but could make out the shape of my disabled cat motoring towards the house. Whatever was out there, the cat

had seen it too and was in no mood to hang around to see what it was, despite his disability. As soon as the cat had loped in through the door, I slammed it shut and caught my breath. Th e cat, his fur all stuck up on end, shot under the table and stayed there. Th e massive pupils in his eyes said it all. For the next 20 minutes, I didn’t move. I knew I had to close the curtains but I didn’t want to go anywhere near the windows. Four weeks later, aft er the fuss had died down somewhat, my housemate Steve came belting in from the garden late at night. His face looked bleached. “I’ve just seen a man. In the back garden!” he gasped. When he’d calmed down, Steve went on to explain that he’d seen a man at the bottom of the garden. From what he could see,

ghosts in my garden

Patric Morgan was a hardened cynic when

it came to anything paranormal.

That was until he met someone in his garden

late at night.

22

real life

the man was fairly old and was wearing an old-fashioned suit with a cravat. He appeared and disappeared without making a noise. As silent as the stars. Now I didn’t just make all that up. Th is actually happened to me in my house in North Cardiff .Th is all happened a few years ago now. As a kid, I was scared stiff of ghosts. I wouldn’t sleep at night. And then I grew up. I took an interest in the mysterious goings-ons of the world. And I concluded that it was all a load of rubbish. I’d never seen a ghost. I’d never sensed one and I’d certainly never spoken to one as my aunty claimed she did on a regular occurrence. It just all seemed a bit too silly. Th is so-called sceptic began questioning whether what happened in the garden was just one of those things - it was a stormy night. Maybe it was a few leaves being blown around that tapped me on the head. But I couldn’t get the memory of that grip on my shoulder out of my head. A few weeks ago, I was back at the same house. It was the same time of year. I was talking to my co-editor Danielle. She was sat on the settee, holding a plastic plate of chopped up apple which she had cut up for her young daughter. Without warning, the plate jumped high in the air, out of Danielle’s hand, scattering the

apples pieces all over the fl oor. “What happened there?” I asked. I wasn’t sure why seemed to throw a plate of food up in the air. “Oh, we’ve been having this for the last few days.” “What do you mean?” I asked. “Th ings happening. I think they’re back.” A sliver of ice spiked its way up my spine. Later on, I had a text to say that a bowl had thrown itself out of the sink and onto the kitchen fl oor. And then a few hours later, Steve posted on his Facebook that he felt someone touch hisshoulder inside the house. Apparently, he spun around asking “Why me??” to whoever was the and as he did so, the lights in the house dimmed and fl ickered for a few seconds. For an old cynic like myself, all these things were beginning to challenge what I had fi rmly believed in - that ghosts don’t exist. But gone are the days now where I can close my eyes and go to sleep like I used to. And it’s started bringing back all the stories I remembered as a kid - and the ones that used to keep me lying awake at night. Th e one, for instance, where my aunty heard footsteps coming up her staircase on the same day every year. Th ey’d stop half way.

Later research found that the previous occupant had hanged themselves on the staircase on that particular day of the year. Th en there was the story of my grandad who was driving up Cemetery Lane back in the 1980s. Th e lane ran alongside the cemetery, and as my grandfather made his way up the lane, he spotted his friend up ahead. He slowed as he approached him to say hello, only for his friend to disappear through the railings and head on into the cemetery. When he got home, grandad recounted the story to my nan, who was sat reading the local paper. “Just saw Bill Jones as I was coming up Cemetery Lane.” he said. “I doubt it,” replied my nan, holding up the paper for him to see, “Here’s his obituary. He died last week.” I’m sure that my grandad would have experienced that same all-over electric tingling feeling as I did when he heard those words. I think that whoever was stood in my garden that night, and who continues to make their presence known, has done enough to convince me that we are not alone. Th e question is, how many lonely souls are there lingering at the bottom of our gardens?

23

real life

Nicky is like most other youngsters in Rhiwbina. He lolls around on the floor, eats all the biscuits from the tin and gets sent out of the room when he’s naughty. But Nicky is slightly different from most youngsters. Firstly, he’s covered in wool and bleats. He also weighs in at 23 stone. Nicky Boing Boing to give him his full title, has become something of a celebrity around North Cardiff, and is often seen wandering the local streets and parks on one of his many walks. Owner Dave Palmer has hand reared Nicky from birth: “My partner and I had been to Goldcliff Nature Reserve in Newport, Easter Monday seven years ago when we heard bleating from some long grass. When we took a closer look, we realised that it was a newborn lamb. He still had his umbilical cord attached. His mother had obviously bolted for some reason and left him. We took him to the nearest farm but the farmer was out so we left our name and

number and he came home with us.” says Dave. “I took some advice from a local

farmer about feeding and so on. We soon realised that as nice as it was having a baby lamb around, we’d soon have a full-grown sheep on our hands. We took him to the local farm but he never liked it there. He kept himself to himself– he wasn’t really wanting to get to know the pigs and goats there.” “In truth, we were missing him desperately, so we went back to the farm. As soon as I opened the boot of my car, he was in like a shot.” Since then, Nicky has been living the life of luxury– he even has his own purpose-built bungalow with windows and fitted carpet. “He loves coming into the house to be honest.” admits Dave. “He’ll come in here for the evening, making himself comfy on the sofa and watch a bit of telly. He tends to head-butt the cushions off the settee and if there’s anything edible around, he’ll have it. I was getting ready for a walk one day when I realised that I had left a £20 note on the table in the living room. Sure enough, when I dashed back, he was chomping on it.” Nicky and Dave do get some funny looks from passers-by but most of the neighbours now accept Nicky as part of the community.

“There was this one woman though who came up to me a few months ago and told me that I’d been lying to the press. I’m not sure what she was going on about. But most of my neighbours round here love Nicky.” says Dave. “He’s made a bit of a name for himself over the last few years. The Americans love him. We had a film crew over here from Boston last year and National Geographic also featured him in one of their shows. When Dr Who was filming here last year, Nicky met actor Matt Smith so he’s definitely mingling with the stars these days.”

24

A Woolly Yarn

The Americans love him, he’s appeared on

National Geographic TV and has even met

Dr Who. The true story of a North Cardiff celebrity

sheep called Nicky

Nick watching Phil Mitchell on Eastenders

local celebrities

petspage

IF YOU HAVE ANY PET-RELATED QUESTIONS THAT YOU WOULD LIKE CHRIS TO ANSWER, PLEASE EMAIL US AT [email protected] AND WE’LL PASS THEM ON.

Can cats get arthritis? My six year old Shorthair seems to be jumping and moving less over the last years or so and I’m worried that he’s hiding something. You’re a very observant owner! Many cats do suffer with arthritis as they get older, and the signs are often missed. They rarely limp and only appear stiff when things have got really bad. The main symptoms are exactly as you describe - a reduction in activity which minimises the cat’s discomfort. Lots of elderly cats seem to prefer to sit on the windowsill and watch the garden, rather than being out there in it. Often this is because it hurts to move about, so they stay put. Other signs might be coming downstairs carefully, caution using a cat flap, stopping using a litter tray (especially if it is quite deep, as many are, to stop the litter being scattered), or not jumping up very well. Fortunately, there are now some very effective anti-inflammatories for cats, and I’m sure your vet will be able to help your cat. However, he is quite young to be suffering from arthritis, which is usually the result of wear and tear over the years, so your vet may need to take some x-rays to confirm the diagnosis. Please DO NOT be tempted to give your cat aspirin, paracetamol or ibuprofen from your own medicine cupboard - they could easily kill him!

We have two cats who use a cat flap. Some mornings bring a sad little toll of furry bodies. Given the predatory nature of cats, should we keep them in at night?No matter how gentle and ‘domestic’ your cat is, he will almost always still have that ruthless

hunter instinct in him, and it is very upsetting to see the results deposited in your home. The catch and kill behaviour is

completely independent of need, as most domestic cats

are so well-fed (even over fed!) that they have no need to consume their catch. Cats often bring home their prey, both alive and dead. This may be because they instinctively prefer to eat in the safety of the den, where they are unlikely to be disturbed. Sometimes dead prey are deposited in a particular place, perhaps near the door, which is interpreted as being a gift for you, the head of the family. Most of the small animals which are prey for the cat are nocturnal, so most hunting is done at night. By shutting the cat-flap, you will reduce the toll on the wildlife. It seems that most cat fights and road traffic accidents happen at night, so keeping the cats in at night will also reduce the risk of them being injured. On the other hand, by preventing them from going out and fulfilling a natural instinct, you may put them under a great deal of frustrated stress. You have to decide!

From time to time our cats sit on the window sills swishing their tails and ‘chattering’ at the birds. What does this mean?

Cats are hunters, and birds are some of their natural prey. I’m afraid that your cat is getting excited by the prospect of hunting and catching the birds - the ‘chattering’ is just a frustrated excitement and serves no known purpose; it doesn’t happen when the cat is really hunting, only when there is this anticipation. However, the tail-swishing is a hunting behaviour: Things are much easier to see if they are moving, and a motionless prey animal being stalked is very difficult to see. A gentle swish of the cat’s tail could just encourage the prey to move, identifying its location to the hunter. An alternative explanation is that tail movement helps to ensure optimum balance for the final pounce.

Pet problemsCHRIS TROUGHTON OF

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29

all is safely gatheredin

GOULASHIngredients:700g stewing steak, cut into 1cm cubes50g flour, plus 45g 2 medium onions, skinned and sliced1 green pepper, seeded and chopped30ml oil10ml paprika45ml tomato puréepinch of grated nutmeg300ml beef stock2 large tomatoes, skinned and quarteredbouquet garni150ml beer142ml soured creamsalt and pepper

Method1. Coat the meat with 50g seasoned flour. In a flameproof casserole dish, fry the onions and

pepper lightly in the oil for 3-4 minutes.2. Add the meat and fry gently for about 5 minutes, until golden brown, then add the paprika and fry for one minute. Stir in the tomato purée, nutmeg, seasoning and remaining flour.3. Add the stock, tomatoes and bouquet garni, cover and cook in the oven at 170 °C (gas mark 3) for 2 hours, until the meat is tender. Add the beer, cook for a few minutes longer and remove the bouquet garni.4. Stir in the soured cream and serve with warm crusty bread.

APPLE CRUNCHIngredients:450g cooking apples, peeled, cored and sliced25g caster sugar2.5ml cinnamon1 egg30ml cornflour15ml golden syrup300ml milk40g butter75g rolled oats40g brown sugarslices of apple to decorate

Method1. Gently cook the apples in the sugar and water until tender. Place in a 3/4 litre ovenproof dish and sprinkle with cinnamon.2. Beat the egg, cornflour and syrup together. Stir in the milk, then place in a pan and cook over a low heat, whisking continuously until thickened. Cool slightly and pour over the apples.3. Melt the butter in a pan, stir in the oats and sugar. Sprinkle over the custard. Bake in the oven at 180 °C (gas mark 4) for 30 minutes. Serve hot, decorated with apple slices.

As the nights draw in, we find comfort and succour in warming casseroles and home baking

recipes

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May 2012“Aaaaaand action.”I clutched a cheap umbrella in one hand and my wife’s arm in the other. Heads down, we stepped into the gale force wind and scuttled down the dark path of the park. To our right, a young lad, arms outstretched, was embracing the autumn storm. He was loving it. Just then, we passed an elderly gentleman heading the opposite way. As he reached us, his cap fl ew off in the wind and landed at the feet of the young lad stood to our right. Th e old man approached the lad, but an argument brewed. Th e man snatched his cap and waddled off into the night cursing, and as we watched, the lad chased aft er him. “Aaaaaaaaaand cut!”

Earlier that year...Back in the New Year, I’d been sat with the parents-in-law, watching an episode of Casualty. Aft er an enormous meal, we all sat sunk into the sofa, unable to move or speak. It was Gordon who eventually broke the silence.“I can do that. Easy-peasy.” he said.“Do what?” I asked.“Th ere. Lying there in the background. Being a patient in a hospital bed pretending to be tachicardic. Easy-peasy.”“You mean be an extra?”“Yes. I could be one of those doctors there in the background, pretending to look at charts. I’d be there pretending to make a diagnosis. I’d head over to a patient there and tell them that

they’re tachicardic. Easy-peasy.” It was a week later that I found out that a local casting agency was looking for extras. “Hello?” “Hi Gord. It’s me, Patric. You free this Wednesday at 2pm?” “Erm...yes. Why?” “Because you, me and Clare are signing up to be an extra in Casualty.” Th ere was a long silence before Gordon fi nally spoke. “Easy-peasy mate.” A few weeks later we were at an offi ce on Cathedral Road. Th ere, they took our measurements, took our photos and sent us on our way. “We’ll be in touch.” they said. A few weeks aft er that, my phone rang. All three of us had been called up to be extras in an episode of Casualty. “9.15am prompt at Roath Lock Studios.” We were there at 8.30am. We wanted to look professional. Aft er a few cups of coff ee while we hung around the green room, we were all called into the studio itself. It looked just like the place we’d been watching on telly a few months earlier, except it didn’t have a ceiling. “You and you.” said a short guy with headphones, pointing to Gordon and I. Clare headed back out for another coff ee. She’d be there all day. However, for us thespians, we had some serious acting to do. I had to sit in a wheelchair and Gordon had to walk in to the ‘ward’ and take a seat. I got the giggles as we did our

fi rst take. And they got worse as each take went on because we were doing the same thing over and over. Every time I was wheeled away from the desk, I’d see Gordon’s feet as he sat there waiting to be seen by a doctor. Over and over. Charlie Fairhead walked passed me about ten times, saying the same things and pulling the same expressions. It was a full day’s work doing just that one shot. And a few months later, Clare and I were battling raging storms as we walked though that park at night on another Casualty shoot.

September 2012 It was a Saturday night. We’d been waiting for this episode for months. ‘Th e one with the storm.’ We’d seen my barn-storming role as the wheelchair patient and now Clare and I were waiting to see us really acting. My battle with my umbrella in the wind was Oscar-worthy alone. But we never appeared. We’d been edited out. Completely. A full night’s work and nothing to show for it. My phone rang. It was Gordon. “We’re gutted. We worked really hard on that shoot.”I said. Gordon just laughed and laughed down the phone.

PATRIC MORGANCAMERAS, LIGHTS AND CHARLIE FAIRHEAD

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A miserable-looking patient (far left )Picture courtesy of BBC

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