Cymraeg yn dilyn (Welsh follows)

'Deck the hall with boughs of holly'. Well,I'vecleared the decks,inside and out, not that I meant to do any outside clearing. It was just that I had to clean the shed.

It happened like this. I was in a 'Santa's Grotto' recently, where there was an arrayof sparkly decorations and I heard a man say to his companion, who was looking at the wreaths, 'Don't buy any more tat', which I thought a bit mean of him, it being the season of goodwill, sort of thing.

Ifelt quite smug because last year I bought awreath from this particular shop. It had velvety leaves, dark green underneath, but brighter where the fairy lights illuminated themand red, luscious berries. I'd wrapped the wreath up carefully after Christmas and put it on a shelf in the shed, where it waswaiting for me to bring it out of hibernation. It was ready tograce our walls for a few festive days again and I could even imaginea Christmas robinperchingon it and singing a'Winter Wonderland' tune.

With a skip in my step, I went to the shed to get the garland.The floor was scattered withshreds of polythene, like tatty confetti.I unwrapped the wreath and found the berries had been gnawed. My beautiful wreath had been destroyed by a vandal. We'd had an unwelcome visitor, who had eaten my prized decoration.

An hour or two later,a humane trap was in place. Next day, there was no sign of 'Miss Mouse' but thetrap was lined with leaves. (From this we realised it was a pregnant rodent).

But by the next morning,a little mouse witheyes glittering like anthracite, was poking her nose out of the entrance. Peter took the trap and occupant down to a nearby field and released her. Ungratefully, she tried to bite him. He stayed long enough to see her make her wayinto the bank.

A few days have passed and there are no more mousey goings on in the shed. Apparently, they can squeeze in through the tiniest of holes.

Since this happened, we have become experts on mice. Neighbours have told us to bait a trap with chocolate; mice muchprefer it to cheese.

I wondered if we should have made a nest in a cardboard box and let the mouse live there, rent-free, until the mice-kittens had been born. Peter looked at me for a few moments when I suggested this before saying: 'No'.

When it is cold and frosty, like now, mice look for warmth and shelter, but when it is a warm winetr, they breed profusely. We should have re-housed the mouse at least half a mile away, because they can find their way back.

I caught a mouse in a humane trap a few years ago, released it in the garden, where it turned around and ran straight back in. Ah, well, 'Good lodgings', as a neighbour said.

I understand that by now this may be getting a bit tiresome but I can tell you it's a lot more tiresome for me, anyway somebody asked me to explain my problem so here we go again:
My pub/bar burned down in February 2009 so I've been out of work for almost two years without pay not being entitled to insurance nor dole. There are people who are willing to help me rebuild the pub but I don't own the walls I just run the business, therefore I have to reply to these gentle people that I have nothing to do with the rebuilding, I only come into the picture on getting the keys, probably next May. The pub will have been repainted and electricity installed BUT it will be empty, I will need help to procure tables & chairs; a small coffee machine; music is all important so I will need material such as a small computer to hold my iTunes collection, an amplifier and speakers; a lamp; dart board, and various items to help replace all the lost memorabilia, most of which was unique having been built up over 30 years. So you see, I have plenty of volunteers willing to work for nothing to aid me in the rebuilding, but unless I get help to refurnish I'll be taking over an empty pub.

'Come and let us make good cheer, For Christmas comes but once a year'.

My thoughtsare turning to feasting and frivolity andmince pies in particular.

To elucidate, I'mthinking ofa mixture of dried fruits, spices and suet, encased in pastry.

I makepastrywitha mixture of butter andlard rubbed intoflour with cold finger-tips, all bound together with an egg yolk andcondensed milk, if the dish issweet. (Rest the pastryin the 'fridge for ten minutes or so before rolling out).

I used to makemincemeat from scratch, but now I buy a jar, stir in somegrated apple, a squeezed tangerineand a wine glass ofbrandy. This is to reduce the proportion of suet and to add an individual touch.I roll the pastry thinly,cutting it into rounds before arrangingeach circle in a deep patty tin, dolloping generous spoonfuls of mince into each little nest,lettingthe gooey sweetness brim over.

Idon't like a pastry lid; instead Iput a circle of marzipan over thepies,five minutes before they are ready to come out of the oven.Mince pies should be eatenhot, even if it means re-heating themlater. (Filo pastry is a good alternative to shortcrust).

People holdstrong viewsaboutpies. Kate and I prefer an Eccles cake to a mince pie, but Peter maintains that shop bought Eccles have too much fat in the pastry, which sticks to his palate. He's also noticed thatthe currants are small and gritty. ('Epicurius's own son was he', or a close relative. Goodness, haven'tI spoilt that man). Emma avoids the pies, if she can.

Originally, C16th or so, the 'mince' in the 'Chriseemas day in the morning' pies was meat, usually beef, mixed with chopped suet to add moistness. Cooks, being inventive creatures, began adding currants and some spices. (Spices were enormously prized and priced. They addedfragrance and taste to the pies and, contrary to popular belief, they were not there to cover the smell of rotting flesh).

Gradually, the pies changed their savoury nature and evolved into sweetmeats.The pie case was known as a coffin and this did notseem to diminishthe popularity of the pie in any way.

As a young wife, I used to read 'Good Housekeeping' avidly.The magazine suggested that after the main course and pudding onChristmas Day, you went on to mince pies and coffee. We tried it once, but found it hard going. (If we'd been cows,withfour compartments to our stomachs, it might have been ok).

I make very small mince pies, just a taste, because they are laden with calories. Then you can have some Christmas Log, (buche de Noel), some Christmas Cake, some sherry trifle with split almondsand glace cherries on the top, somemeringuey Pavlova, followed by violet chocolates and nougat with pecan nuts (my favourite sweet of all).

As they said in Florida, when we were there the week before Christmas, one year:Felice Navidad.

"Wales is the fuel poverty capital of Britain" says the UK Press association, with a third of its homes fuel poor; isn't this sadly ironic for a country that fuelled the British Empire? We were raped and pillaged and now we have nothing left, but hold on; oil was the new coal, soon water will be the new oil and we have it in abundance. We can learn from the lessons of the past to become the Bahrein of Europe, but first we must own our natural resources. This puppet Welsh government run by English Parties has already put that out of the question by stating that nothing must be done that touches on England's interests, which it would if England were made to pay Cymru/Wales a fair price for its commodities. It would put a stop to the argument that it's too late econonomically to rejoin the international community in our own right.

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