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A Welsh Silver-lead Mine


By Stephen Peter Lloyd Harvey, 2011-03-24

Spring has come early in the Cambrian Mountains! A good rate of progress yesterday, with the electricians upgrading various bits of equipment and the 'old firm' working on scraping tattered paintwork after the severe winter.

Sad news about Liz Taylor. In the 1970's she was a regular visitor to the area as her son, Michael Wilding Jnr, lived in a happy hippy place called Ffynnon-wen at Ystumtuen. The 70's was like that in Mid Wales! All the older generations of local folk were still alive with the Welsh speaking communities still largely intact, but with a scattering of fascinating in-comers! It's not like that anymore and the area is split between the humdrum and the ultra-greens!!! Despite everything, the Welsh language survives, particularly in the remote farming communities. Long may it do so.

Anyway, back to the old mine and more paint scraping!

Peter

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Not exactly misspent youthbut what happens when you dont misspend your youth enough and by default grow old enough for things like this to happen. True storyhappened in 2001.

Mona

4F: A Cautionary Tale

I am writing this all down, not so much as to tell a story or simply get this all off my chest (Lord knows, I need to keep what I have), or even earn Top Blogger points, but, rather, as a kind of public service announcement--a warning, if you will, to any other hapless individuals (and as you read, you will know who you are) who may find themselves in a similar situation.

First, I must introduce the characters. Besides myself,

the Innocent Bystander :

there is my husband, whom we will charitably call Leonard , since that is his name and this is a family show:

NOW

(can you pick him out of the line-up?)

and our dog Huckleberry , a lively coonhound/pointer mix of uncertain parentage, quite similar to Leonard, now that I think about it:

Leonard is what some might call a handyman or do-it-yourselfer, but certainly not anyone who has lived with him for 20+ years. When I am being kind, I prefer "procrastinator" and "an accident waiting to happen," if you get my drift. He is a former industrial arts teacher, grandson of a former industrial arts teacher; and is convinced he, and he alone, through the miracle of DNA, can handle any home repair project from plumbing to electricity, sometimes undertaking both tasks at the same time with shocking results. So, it follows that our house is always in some state between torn apart and nearly-but-not-quite finished, and I have 911 on my speed dial.

His current undertaking is kitchen remodeling. By "current,"you need to think in terms of geologic time. I mean this project was started 13 years ago and is now in its third incarnation. He has torn out a wall to open the space between the kitchen and living room, removed the original wallpaper and replaced it with paneling, installed some new cupboards (but never got around to finishing them off or installing the final countertop), removed said cabinets, which are now conveniently and attractively, I might add, stored sideways in the family room, replaced the original linoleum, and as recently as last May began replacing the tiles that had replaced the original linoleum in the early years of this project.

The first time he redid the floor, it went very quickly, a matter of no more than a week at most. Of course, he was 15 years younger and had the help of our teenage son. I was pleasantly surprised. This time around, things are not going so well, an understatement if I ever made one. It seems the years have added pounds and stiffness to my former football player/wrestler:

THEN

His knees are bad. His shoulders are bad. He is limited in what he can accomplish in one squatting. For instance, Labor Day weekend, he managed to lay four squares of new tile. As you can imagine, he was very worn out by this extreme burst of exertion and required heavy doses of football to recover his strength. (Labor Day is in September, mind you. See above for May reference.) I told him by time he finishes with the last tile, it will be time to start over again with the first. He did not find this as pithy as I did. Either that, or he didn't realize I was casting asparagus on his efforts.

Moving right along to October 30, his tools are on the kitchen floor just waiting to have something to do. Here's the process, finessed during weeks of sofa-sitting, picturing it all play out on the insides of his eyelids: In order to loosen the old tiles, he has been using a paint stripper to blow hot air on the tiles to soften the adhesive backing, which makes them easier to lift off the floor. For efficiencys sake, he devised a system whereby he places the paint stripper through a hole he has cut in a cardboard box, which is then placed over the next tile to come off. When the paint stripper is turned on, the hot air is contained inside the box, focusing it on the tile beneath. Once the tile is off, he expeditiously cleans any adhesive residue off the plywood underlayment with paint thinner and/or rubbing alcohol. On paper this seems like a plan:

So the scene is set for our little drama: Box over tile, paint stripper through hole in box and (this is important!) plugged into socket, paint thinner and alcohol nearby on the floor; dog is alone in the house, as husband has exited stage left and is at work and I went out to run an errand.

To be continued.

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ORIGINAL BLOG FORMAT WITH PICTURES AT WWW.CRAPWIFEBLOG.CO.UK AND http://craphousewife.blogspot.com/2011/03/diary-of-crap-wife-yawn-poke-gag-scowl.html

Im having to be more covert in my attempt to break him.My mother in law arrived this afternoon and (although shes supportive of the campaign of torment I subject her only child to) it is difficult to get him to dunk his cock in a mug of ice-cold water (in return for access to the bed) when shes asleep in the next room.


Im not known for my subtlety (which is a shame because I wanted to be a spy) and the task is proving difficult.Im not really in a position at the moment to make him take his clothes off in the garden, and because of this Im having to break out the old faithfuls .


Old faithfuls like the yawn game.The yawn game is the simplest form of torture I have ever inflicted.Its so effective that he once told me that it was the most frustrating experience hes had in 30 years on the planet.


Then why did I stop doing it? I hear you ask.


Common sense.When I started the game we were dating, and if Id continued with it, Id never have got him down the aisle.This was around the same time Id started gaining weight, and torturing him before he needed a solicitor to leave me was simply not in my best interests.


I made the decision to retire the game and save it for another day.Like today.


Im going to share with you the genius that is the yawn game.Its a simple case of patience and perseverance.


First, you must ensure that you wake your victim about three times.There are many ways of doing this- I think I heard a burglar is by far the most effective.


When your victim is awake, you allow them to drop off to sleep... and then wake them again. Repeat this process 3 times and then engage them in a conversation about your feelings.

When they start yawning (which they will) poke your finger in their mouth thus making them gag and ensuring that they never complete a full yawn.


It sounds like nothing, but trust me, its the simplest, most effective ploy Ive found to date.


Husband tells anyone wholl listen that for the first year we were together I didnt let him yawn.This is true.Somewhere along the line though, hes forgotten how this made him feel.My previous hard work with the yawn game has become nothing more than an anecdote he tells our friends, hes forgotten the frustration.There was no burglar and he remembers now though.


Youre not starting this crap again, are you? he asked.

What crap? I dont know what you mean? What would you do if I died? Would you ever love again?


Yawn-Poke-Gag-Scowl.


The not letting me yawn crap, you know what Im talking about. Dont you fucking dare.And Id be crushed if you died. You know that.


Yawn-Poke-Gag-Scowl.


I tell him, If I died, I dont want you to be happy, mind.I want you to walk round with my ashes in yourmanbagcrying at strangers.


Yawn-Poke-Gag-Scowl.


Seriously, dont start with the yawn shit again.I know what youre doing. He says .

I want to be buried when I die; I want Living in A Box played at my funeral. I want half the people to be told my last wishes were for everyone to dress in party gear, and the other half to be told to dress in black- that way half will think the other half have been disrespectful and therell be fights. I want fights at my funeral.


Yawn-BollockGrab (you cant be predictable)-Gag-Scowl.


If you start this crap up again then youll be put in a cardboard box withBoyzoneplaying while they burn you with matches.


This is offensive to me; Im not a fan ofBoyzone.


That wont happen, Ill text my sister my wishes and jump off a bridge to spite you.She wouldnt let me down.


Yawn-Poke-Grab-Scowl.


You're scared of heights and anyway, Ill over rule her and then Ill remarry achavto spite you. He says.
Fine, Ill haunt you and stick my finger up your bum before I put it in your mouth when you yawn. Says she.


Husbands getting cross. Im not having this conversation, I had 4 hours sleep last night, its half one and were up at five tomorrow.


Ok, Im sorry, Im not really starting the yawn game again, I just didnt want to sleep-Im upset because Im so fat, I feel really crap babe, Im sure that woman inWyevalewas laughing at me today. I feel really down.


Aww baby, dont be stupid, I love you just the way you are, youre beautiful, youre being silly


Yawn-Poke-Gag-Scowl.


Seriously, dont start with the fucking poking.

Shhhhhh, Husband, youll wake your mother.

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A Welsh Silver-lead Mine


By Stephen Peter Lloyd Harvey, 2011-03-23

36 years in one spot on a Ceredigion Mountainside and I've had enough! In those years I've restored a complete hard-rock mine with a 260 year old heritage, put together a unique collection of mining gear and established a large reference library & archive! Last September, I decided to retire as the joints were creaking a bit more than usual! Probably something to do with the rainfall on Pumlumon!!!

A deal was done to sell the old mine and my lifetime's workl! All was going well until February when the keen buyers

removed themselves from the market! So, I'm up in the hills for yet another season, giving guided tours and telling people about the Welsh Lead Miners of long ago. In the 1880's many travelled to the USA and we have a sizeable link with the Silverton area of Colorado!

Any Welsh exiles out in the USA who fancy a hard-rock mine back home in Wales? I'd be most pleased to hear from you!

Peter

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Original format at http://craphousewife.blogspot.com/2011/03/and-zen-there-were-none-shes-got-stress.html and www.crapwifeblog.co.uk

While packing upitems to take to the charity shop today, I came across a book called the Stress Factor. Beingknown for my ability to prioritise anything over the task in hand, I read it. According to this book I could be damaging my health, happiness and even my chi by being stressed. This needs to stop immediately.
Ive spent most of the day drinking green tea and not letting things bother me.
For example, I am not bothered that Husbands breakfast meeting was moved to lunchtime or that he informed me that hes outgrown his suit and bought another one which is mint (his word, not mine.)
Nor am I bothered that his glasses had discoloured in the sun or that he had enough time to collect new contacts from SpecSavers.
I am not bothered that hes not mentioned the porn mag. And Im not bothered that he didnt pay for lunch, thus avoiding the cocks on the banknotes.
I was not even bothered by getting 50% of the way through this blog before realising that the e button on the laptop is broken and that Ive dropped more es in 200 words than a 90s rave dealer in Ibeefa.
When Husband got home this afternoon, he looked gorgeous, which didnt bother me at all. His meeting had been a success and we drank green tea by the pond, him talking about his meeting, me about how relaxed and not stressed I am.
We discussed current affairs and what to do if a bear is chasing you. I, knowing the answer, told him that if a bear chases you that you must run downhill as bears have short legs and they fall over when running downhill.Oh! How we laughed when husband pointed out that there is nothing to verify this on the internet and that Ive probably been dreaming documentaries again. Clever Husband. Of course, none of his laughing bothered me, being the Zen-like entity I am, I was able to detach myself and rise above it.
Watching Husband in the garden, it became clear to me where I had gone wrong. The zen thing was too much too soon. Hooking me up to a lavender drip and shagging me with a panpipe wouldnt have worked, so a cuppa green tea and some humming was never going to do it.
I cant tell you the exact moment that caused me to snap and lock him out of the house and glue his house key to a plate, but I can tell you I feel better for it.
In short, Ive learned something today. Being a hippy sucks camel dick. It is far more satisfying to make your husband post every item of his new outfit through the cat-flap (in exchange for the use of a key that has not been glued to a plate) than it is to take the high road. Hows that for a fucking mantra?
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Paul Child is Wales' biggest independent selling artist. Paul has sang the Welsh National Anthem at many of the Wales international rugby matches at the Millennium Stadium in Cardiff. ( When Paul sings, Wales wins!). We are extremely proud to welcome Paul to this year's West Coast eisteddfod in L.A. where he will be headlining and leading the singing of the Welsh anthem at the opening concert on Friday Tickets for the performance can be purchased at the bottom of this page.

AmeriCymru: Hi Paul...many thanks for agreeing to be interviewed by AmeriCymru. We last interviewed you two years ago. Care to fill us in on developments over the last few years?

Paul: The last couple of years have been really exciting, with the release of the 'After All These Years' CD in 2009, followed by the 'Best Of...' double CD "My Wales' last Summer. Both CDs have done really well, with the 'My Wales' CD outselling both Cerys Matthews' and Charlotte Church's latest releases. I also performed the Welsh National Anthem for the Welsh football team for the first time last October which was a great honour.

AmeriCymru: You recently performed at Disneyland Paris as part of their annual Festival of Wales, how was that experience and how did it come about?

Paul: Disney in Paris have been holding their Festival of Wales in March for the last couple of years, it's a great 3 day event which sees Minnie Mouse dressed in full Welsh costume for the weekend and lots of Choirs and performers around the park. This year they asked me go go over with my full ten piece band to headline the event. It was a great show with lots of Welsh people who had travelled over for the Welsh weekend as well as a great number of ex-pats living in the area.

AmeriCymru: At Disneyland, you performed "There's a Place," from your "My Wales" album - how was that song chosen and what can you tell us about it's creation?

Paul: Although the 'My Wales' double album is mainly a compilation of the most popular songs from my previous eight albums, we wanted to include a couple brand new songs, just to keep things fresh - Along with "Coming Home To Wales, "There's A Place" is one of my favourites. It was originally written in the Welsh language but we wanted to make it more accessible so it was re-written it in English, it's lovely song. The youtube link below shows a live performance of the track at Cardiff International Arena.

AmeriCymru: You're a father, do your children get to watch you perform? Are they ever able to travel with you? How do they like their dad's performances?

Paul: I'm a very proud father to Michael who is 12 and Kate who is 10. They have been to a few local shows and they like to get involved with the soundcheck and set-up. They are both members of the local youth theatre and Michael particularly loves acting and performing. We have just signed him up to a kids talent agency so we'll see what comes of that!

AmeriCymru: You will be appearing at he West Coast Eisteddfod in September. Is this your first performance in the States? First time in L.A.?

Paul: I am very excited about performing in LA, it will be my first time to do so but I'm lucky enough to have been there a few times in my life - I absolutely love the place! I remember my parents taking me the Disneyland when I was eleven and I made the trip again on my own when I was about 25. In Summer 2009 my wife and I took the kids over, we did Disney, Universal Studios, Seaworld plus of course Hollywood and the beaches. The Strand on Hermosa Beach has to be one of my favourite places in the world - I'd love to retire there one day!

AmeriCymru: Any final message for the readers and members of AmeriCymru?

Paul: Thanks you so much for inviting me to perform at the West Coast Eisteddfod, I am so looking forward to it. I'm sure that it is going to be a fantastic few days that we will all remember for a very long time - see you in September!


2011 West Coast Eisteddfod: Welsh Festival of Arts - Fri 23rd Sept
Opening Ceremonies on Friday, 23rd, 2011 from 6pm to 10pm
in the Barnsdall Gallery Theatre

Featuring Performances by:
"Official voice of the WRU"
Music Acoustic
Music Video Performance Art Installation
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http://danzasceltastangwanwyn.blogspot.com/


By Agustina Torá, 2011-03-22
Blog

Tn Gwanwyn

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Special Announcement


Ten days to go to submit your design ideas for this year's West Coast Eisteddfod Lovespoon. There are three spaces on the spoon which have been reserved for our readers design suggestions. You can submit as many ideas as you like ( drawings particularly welcome ). Ten ideas, one each from ten entrants, will be selected and will go forward to the final vote in April. The voting widget will appear in a special blog post on AmeriCymru. The three design ideas which get the most votes will be incorporated in the spoon's final design. The three winners will each reeive a copy of David's fabulous book ( pictured here ) "The Fine Art of Carving Lovespoons" So....DONT DELAY, ENTER TODAY!!! Even if you have already submitted a suggestion or two feel free to suggest more. Go to this blog post to enter your design idea as a comment if you are on AmeriCymru:- David Western's Lovespoon Blog: "Good things DO happen in threes!" If you are on Facebook go to this blog:- West Coast Eisteddfod Lovespoon Contest On! to post your design suggestions in the Facebook comment box at the bottom of the page. All suggestions will be examined and a shortlist drawn up for the final vote at the end of March.

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It would seem that the hole wasnt a great idea. The dog fell in it and tracked mud through the house. Still, the look on husbands face will make up for having to hoover for the umpteenth time today, wont it?
Youre the best he said as he came through the door You didnt have to hire someone to dig the hole, I was going to do it as a surprise for your birthday! Youve always wanted a pond.
I havent. I have never wanted a pond. Ever. We have three cats and a white dog that falls in holes.Its not practical.
And whos Gary Mole? The service was amazing, he even sent me a letter to tell me that the work was going ahead.
Its at times like these I wonder is it really worth it? I feel like nothing I do is having an effect. Im no closer to breaking him now than I was 3 years ago, yet somehow, hes about 16.4 miles nearer to breaking to me. CrapWife is growing disheartened. And Husbands a knob.
Somewhere during the course of this process weve turned into Wiley Coyote and Road-Runner. Im only ever one cheerful text message away from blowing myself up with some Acme dynamite or launching myself off a cliff.
Great. I say. I found him in the yellow pages.

Well youve been saying that we dont have room for the fish tank- we can put them in the pond now. Itll be lovely. You ruined thesurprisethough.
I am wondering if the holes big enough to bury him in.
Husband shows me the stuff hes bought for my birthday present The filtration system looks expensive, pond liners arent cheap and there are enough plants and gravel chippings to colonise the (super) moon.
Not only have I once again failed in breaking him, Ive probably done myself out of the handbag I actually wanted.
Husband took a half day from work to go and buy this stuff. Hes been out there for hours and has created a sickeningly attractive water feature. The fish wont be in there for another few weeks he tells me, the pond has to mature first. Hes really excited. Hes worked so hard.
You eyes look red, you need to take your contacts out for a while and give them a rest, youve got that meeting first thing and you look like a junkie- got to bed, Ive got a few bits to finish up here, I wont be long
Poor husband has terrible mole-like eye sight and I worry about his eyes. He usually sleeps in his contact lenses and on the rare occasions he takes them out, I have to help him in the morning as he cant see to switch the kettle on, let alone get himself dressed. This is why hiding his contact lenses may have been a tad cruel.
It is for this reason that he probably wont notice that Ive shortened the arms and legs on his suit by an inch. I figure if I also set his alarm for thirty minutes later than usual, hell probably not notice the Gay Porn magazines in his briefcase either.
In a rare attack of conscience, I decide to leave his emergency glasses available. I cant remember where Ive put them though, and I probably wont remember until about 3 minutes before hes leaving the house. I've painted the frames of his emergency glasses with opaque pink nail-varnish- to show my gratitude for all his hard work. As a final thank you (and acting on the innovative suggestion of one of the Crap Wife facebook followers) I draw large cocks on all the bank notes in his wallet. Oh to be a fly on the wall at tomorrow's breakfast meeting.
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And I get bummed if I leave my shampoo or toothbrush!

Gold worth 6,500 are among the oddest items left behind by guests at a hotel chain.

Travelodge said the false teeth, found at its Bridgend hotel, rank alongside a life-size Dalek and an antique rocking horse also found in rooms in the UK.

Other items included a 50,000 diamond-encrusted Rolex watch and 10,000 in cash left in a dustbin.

"Our lost and found departments provide plenty of revelations," a spokesperson for the hotel said.

Also on the hotel chain's list of the most mysterious objects left behind during 2010 were keys to a car in Chester, Cheshire, a Hermes handbag worth 8,000 in Leamington Spa, Warwickshire, and a 4ft (1.2m) tall yam (vegetable) in Cambridge.

READ MORE.

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