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This week we introduce you to Nora Evans, who reminisces about life on her grandparent’s farm, Penrhiwbeili in the village of Talog. We were asked by Carmarthen Museum to put this small video together as the contents is now in situ at the Museum in Abergwili, and the video will form part of the exhibition.

I’ll let her tell you her story in her own inimitable way – enjoy.

We hope you all enjoy it as much as we did.

Hope you enjoyed Alun Gibbard at Number 5 Cwmdonkin Drive?

We had some great feedback. Thank you. We hope to re-visit the house later in the year for an update.

This week I’ve been editing our video on the town mayor of Carmarthen. When you know the person pretty well it’s hard to keep to set questions in an interview! I threw my questions away in the end and let him talk. Reacting to what he was discussing made everything far more natural. Hopefully we’re learning all the time!

I got to mention this link. Last Thursday on BBC 2 Wales there was an It’s My Shout short film, The Wall and The Mirror. I love the detail in the documentary. Clare Potter has directed it with a passion and care for the community of Cefn Forest. Do a search on BBC iplayer and you’ll find it.

Please take fifteen minutes out of your day and enjoy. We’re learning all the time!

ISLAND FARM, GERMAN POW CAMP OPEN WEEKEND

Seimon and myself are off on a big adventure on Sunday morning. We’re taking our camera, tripod and zoom recorder to Bridgend. The last time we ventured east we got lost up Blaenavon looking for Trehafod. We had to stop on the way back to Ponty, in a Tredegar petrol station. We needed Jelly Babies, our sugar levels were low. We were out of our comfort zone for sure.

We’ve got some friends who curate Hut 9, Island Farm in Bridgend, willing to share the secrets of this World War Two German Prisoner of War camp.

In the afternoon we return to Pete King’s Sycamore Studios - Swansea's longest running professional studio. Pete will be a subject of a forthcoming video. The Welsh Cakes have a rehearsal, the first in three weeks. We think we’ll be ready to perform by September with an opening gig planned for Pontardawe Arts Centre. You’ll have heard one of the lead singers, Lorraine King singing in the last video, No 5 Cwmdonkin Drive. The music on Penrhiwbeili is by Welsh folk singer Tommy Jenkins.

If you would like to visit Carmarthen Museum, you can find out more about it here and find the museum at

Adjudication from Peter Thabit Jones

Americymru 2018 Poetry Competition results

It was a real pleasure to read such a variety of poetic voices among the submitted poems. Most of the entries pulled me into their worlds and kept me there for the duration of their unfolding. Many fine lines settled into ‘the larder of my heart’, to quote my dear American friend Vince Clemente, an emeritus professor and poet. As always, I was looking for a poet whose work revealed an individual and an original voice, something fresh in their offering of a compact and crafted use of language, a poet whose observations and feelings are brought together in a seamless way.

I was truly impressed by the poems of Peter Lewis, Peter Lautz, K. S. Moore, Paul Steffan Jones, and Michael Madden. They are all poets with a controlled array of strong writing skills and with very engaging approaches to their subject matter. It was a tough decision, but the somewhat delicate and yet deep poems of Peter Lewis are my choice for the winner of the 2018 Americymru Poetry Competition.

  The winner of the 2018 competition is Peter Lewis.

   Peter Thabit Jones
   Poet, dramatist, and publisher

Read the winning entries here:- Poems by Peter Lewis

Congratulations/Llongyfarchiadau to this year's winner Peter Lewis

Adjudication from Mike Jenkins

''It was a tricky choice, but in the end I went for 'Flapper Girl' by Anisha Johnson, which really caught a moment in time very well. I really liked the humour of 'Nativity' as well."

The winner of the 2017 competition is Anisha Johnson.

Mike Jenkins

Read the winning entries here:- Flapper Girl by Anisha Johnson

Congratulations/Llongyfarchiadau to this year's winner Anisha Johnson

Gwenno Dafydd - St David's Day Ambassador To The World

Gwenno Dafydd is the instigator of the Saint David's Day Anthem (Lyrics: Gwenno Dafydd Music: Heulwen Thomas) which was launched by The Presiding Officer of the Welsh Assembly Government, Lord Dafydd Elis Thomas in 2008. She has been promoting and developing Saint David's Day activities worldwide since 2006 when the Saint David's Day Anthem 'Cenwch y Clychau i Dewi' (Ring out the bells for Saint David) was performed in public for the very first time in the National Saint David's Day Parade in Cardiff. She has instigated the tradition of 'County Banners' throughout Wales to celebrate Saint David's Day. This year, the first County Banner, The Pembrokeshire Banner, which is kept on permanent display in the East Cloister in Saint David's Cathedral, will be joined by two new County Banners, those of Montgomeryshire and Carmartheshire.

The Saint David's Day Anthem, which will this year be sold from the very prestigious Ty Cerdd website, patron Karl Jenkins, alongside the music of Welsh composers such as Grace Williams, William Mathias, Morfydd Llwyn Owen and Gareth Glyn. The Saint David's Day Anthem has been performed not only in Wales but also numerous times in Canada, Los Angeles, Patagonia, Disneyland Paris and the Houses of Parliament. Every year the Pembrokeshire Banner is paraded around Saint David's Cathedral whilst local school children sing the Saint David's Day Anthem.

She has created an Iphone App to learn the Welsh National Anthem and is the author of 'Stand Up & Sock it to them Sister. Funny Feisty Females' which had been described by Funny Women, the UK's leading female comedy community as 'the ultimate canon of female stand-up comics'. She is a Leadership and Public Speaking Coach and works extensively via Skype and even has some clients in Los Angeles.

Week 1 of 52, 5 Cwmdonkin Drive, Alun Gibbard

For Saint David's Day, and Mother Bear Productions' inaugural video with us, Alun Gibbard , author of Cardiff Before Cardiff (Y Llofa) and many other titles, introduces us all to Number 5 Cwmdonkin Drive, Swansea, the birthplace of Welsh poet Dylan Thomas. 

We hope you all enjoy it as much as we did.

Want to visit Swansea for yourself?

VisitWales.com can help you plan a trip to Wales. 

You can find out about visiting No. 5 Cwmdonkin Drive at dylanthomasbirthplace.com , schedule a guided tour, have a meal or tea, and even book a stay in the house itself. 

AmeriCymru spoke to Welsh author and St David's Day Parade organiser, Sion Jobbins. Here is a list of Sion's published works:

Llyfrau | Books

The Welsh National Anthem: its story, its meaning

The Red Dragon: The Story of the Welsh Flag


 

AmeriCymru: What made you decide to organise the St David's Day parade in Aberystwyth? What was the inspiration and what was the original aim?

Sion: The first Aberystwyth St David’s Day Parade ( http://gwyldewiaber.cymru) was in 2013. I founded it in response to the disappointing results of the 2011 census which had just been released. I felt we needed to lift people’s spirit and show we were “yma o hyd” (still here).

I’d also been a great supporter of Cardiff’s St David’s Day Parade and felt every town should have one. In fact, I suggested that in an article I have on St David’s Day in my book, ‘The Phenomenon of Welshness: How many Aircraft Carrieres would an Independent Wales have?’ I felt that Wales had always been to quiet and too, well boring, in its celebration of our patron saint, especially compared to the Irish. Although I felt St Patrick’s Day could seem a little naff at times, I admire their zeal and confidence in celebrating their national day.

I had considered holding a Glyndwr Day Parade rather than St David’s Day one as Glyndwr would be a secular event and so not offend or leave a bitter taste for those who wish celebration of St David’s Day to be more nationalistic and those who wished commemoration of St David to be more religious. In the end, after holding a small meeting, the consensus was that people were more familiar with St David’s Day and that Glyndwr Day Parade may not appeal to such a wide cross-section of society.

AmeriCymru: Who are the main organisers and do they get funding? Who takes part?

Sion: The Parade is organised by a small group of volunteers. I’d like the Parêd to grow to be a week-long event of music, discussion, comedy, food and fun. But I, and the others, don’t have the time. So, we try to do one thing well.

We receive money from Aberystwyth Town Council who are very supportive and the parade wouldn’t happen without it. We’ve also received money in the past from places like the Lottery and also from private businesses.

AmeriCymru: Tell me about some of the unique elements that you have in the Aber parade. How has it grown over the years and how do you see it growing in the future?  

Sion: I’m a great believed in invented tradition and in thanking, celebrating an elevating our heroes. I’m also a fan of flags. So, this Parade includes all those strands.

We’ve invented our traditions such as having a bagpiper to lead the Parade. The pipes are Welsh pipes or Galician. The tunes are Welsh – Calon Lân for instance.

Behind the piper in the Parade is the ‘Tywysydd’ (leader). Every year the Parade choses a local person who we believe has made a contriution to Welsh language life in the town and possibly nationally. The first Tywysydd was the late Dr Meredydd Evans, the musicologist and later head of BBC Cymru Wales Light Entertainment. He and his American wife, Phyllis Kinney, had made a huge contribution to the study and celebration of Welsh folk music – as well as other things. This year’s Tywysydd, by contrast, is Dilys Mildon, who’s from Aberystwyth and returned to the town in 1985 to open Gannets a very popular bistro in Aber. She retired last year. Gannets was a hub of Welsh language life and was one of the few places in the 1980s and 1990s which never shied away from using and promoting Welsh at a time when people were more averse, or even dismissive, of their business being seen as ‘too Welsh’.

AmeriCymru: What are the economic benefits to the area?

Sion: It’s hard to quantify, but the town is fuller on the Saturday afternoon. It’s ovious that people come in with their families either to take part in the Parade or to watch. We’ve also in the past organised music and events in some of the shops and cafes on the day of the Parade. We hold a free folk gig and music session at the Llew Du pub. There’s certainly a buzz on the day.

AmeriCymru: What can you tell us about the Ras yr Iaith?

Sion : Ras yr Iaith ( http://rasyriaith.cymru) is a different event. It’s a fun run for the Welsh language – to rasie profile and again, confidence in the language and also raise money which is then donated as grants to initiatives which support and use Welsh.

Ras yr Iaith (race of the language, language race) is based on other hugely successful language runs in the Basque Country (the first one) called the Korrika; Redadeg (Brittany), Rith (Ireland). Every different country has its own version but they are all non-competative and clubs, societies, families, businesses pay to sponsor a km of the route with the profit made given back as grants to support the native language.

Our Ras yr iaith happens every two years, the next one will be in July 2020. We run through the town centres along a route through Wales. With our run more than one institution or club can sponsor the same km. There have been 3 Ras yr Iaith so far (first on In 2014) and we’ve given out a lot £30k in grants during that period. So, it’s a way to raise money for the language independently of the state and it’s also a great way to draw supporters of the language – be they Welsh speakers or not – together as they run or help steward the event.

I founded Ras yr Iaith, in 2012. I hoped ‘someone else’ would do it, but then realised I was that ‘someone else’.

AmeriCymru: Care to tell us a little about your book:- 'The Red Dragon - The Story of the Welsh Flag.'?

Sion: I like flags! The Red Dragon has to be one of the best flags ever, and its history is very interesting. The great thing about flags is that they are simultaneously an obvious manifestation of what and how a nation wishes to see itself represented to others, But the history behind the flag, the choices of flags and designs not made, the time it was constructed and flown, also betrays so much about the nation.

The Red Dragon was officially made flag of Wales in February 1959 when Westminster recognised it – though the present design itself was older of course.

AmeriCymru: In the book you propose that the 28th May to be commemorated annually in Wales as 'Flag Day'. Care to explain why? What has been the reaction to your suggestion?

Sion: I’d like to initiate 28 May as the Flag Day as it was on that day in 1865 that the oldest reference to the Welsh flag being flow is made as the Welsh settlers for Patagonia raised it on the Mimosa ship as it sailed out of Liverpool.

I haven’t had much reaction to be honest, though, Rhys Llewelyn, who organises the Pwllheli St David’s Day Parade is interested in promoting the idea further. Part of the problem is that Wales, nor the UK, has much of a tradition of ‘flag day’ so, people aren’t aware of the tradition. Also, many people no fly the flag at every day of the year. However, it’s something I’d like pursue.

I’d also like to promote my design for the Maritime Flag which is a Red Dragon flag but with the green half brought down to below the claws of the Red Dragon so that the red doesn’t deface the green. This will make the flag (and Dragon) easier to recongise from a distance. The current national flag design breaks the ‘Rules of Tincture’ which were, ironically, written by Welshman Humphrey Lhuyd in the 16th century.

AmeriCymru: What's next for Sion Jobbins. Will you be organising more marches? Do you have any new books planned?

Sion: What next? Well, no new books is one certainty, I’m afraid. I’m now Chair of Yes Cymru the grass roots, non-party political movement for an independent Wales. Things are moving quickly here with a big independence march in Cardiff on 11 May. I’ve also started and I present on Radio Yes Cymru – which is a rather grandiose name for an online broadcasting outfit – though I’d like to develop that more. Check out Yes Cymru and Radio Yes Cymru online and on Facebook and Twitter.

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

Sion: Keep in touch with Wales, support and promote Wales when you can, and try and enjoy life and see the best side of people – we’re only on this planet once – “do the little things” as St David said.

Beca a Catrin is now available on Amazon.

(The Welsh version of Reba and Katherine/Messy Hair Game)

Softcover * 36 pages * 8.5 x 8.5

There is also a corresponding coloring book.

Ages 3-7

ISBN: 9781945669385

Available on Amazon: Beca A Catrin

About the book:

Reba and Katherine are two sisters who learn a lesson about patience and forgiveness as their choice create more work for Grandma. The story provides opportunity for interesting discussion about consequences and decision-making. You can listen to a free English audio version on the website. The book contains both English and Welsh text.

Author Gail Gritts

Gail grew up deep in the heart of the Ozarks in Missouri, USA. Life led her to England where she and her husband Tom raised their own family of five. Today, while she still lives in England, she relishes the opportunity to keep the family tradition of storytelling, including the mishaps and adventures of Reba and Katherine, with her thirteen grandchildren. Gail has been a freelance writer for many years writing magazine articles and devotional materials. Messy Hair Game is the first in her series about Reba and Katherine.

Illustrator Javier Duarte

Javier is a Uruguayan illustrator. He specializes in profession illustrations, portraits, cartoons, comics and children’s books and is currently working as a freelance artist locally and internationally.

Translator Emily Stirrup

My name is Emily. I am eight years old and I love Messy Hair Game! I live in North Wales in a town called Colwyn Bay. My mom and dad are both Welsh and I go to a Welsh school. I had a great time translating the story for my friends. I hope you enjoy the story, too.

Website: www.truestorykeepsake.com  Email: truestorykeepsake@gmail.com

The father and son made their way through the underground car park of the Civic Centre in Merthyr Tydfil.

They were in luck.

They didn’t have to walk through the crowds of people that were stood in the forecourt outside the main entrance.

Pressing the lift call button repeatedly, little Thomas was happy.

At the age of seven , everything was a game….no money worries…it was like being on his own Civil List .

His father , Richard tried to fake a smile, he knew he was at the Civic Centre for more serious business.

He was there to see the Council Social Services department to see if they would call off the dogs and let him remain in his late mother’s house a little longer.

At 59 years of age and working for minimum wage, he was outside the criteria to prevent the sale of her estate assets to fund her social services care.

All levied on a house his mother and father had scrimped and saved during their work-shortened lifetime to buy…going without holidays and luxuries just to hold a small piece of the British ‘Empire’ for themselves.

An Englishman’s home is his castle…but in Monmouth Drive Merthyr Tydfil…the Welshman’s home in Castle Park was being slowly sucked away from him by a parasitic Government who had not budgeted for the working classes living beyond the biblical three score and ten and their usefulness to the ruling elite.

They could take his home- legally anyway…the Act of Parliament was given Royal Assent , but they couldn’t take his love for his only son Thomas he thought as he ruffled his fair hair.

Times were so hard, he had to cut their hair himself with a fruit bowl placed on their already rounded heads which caused his son to fight daily in the local Gellideg Infants Primary School Yard.

As they ascended, the clunk of lift mechanism , jarred him and his son, as the doors opened unexpectedly on the first floor.

An elderly woman and her husband were ushered in by a burly looking security guard.

Little Thomas looked at the woman clad in a headscarf and sunglasses, she looked somewhat familiar.

She looked like that woman who made his Christmas dinner go cold every year .

And if there was one thing he hated it was cold KFC.

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a coin and checked it up against the profile of the stranger.

She didn’t have that jewel thing on her head but it still looked like her.

The lift clunked again and stopped with a thud.

The light went out for a split second before the emergency lighting kicked in.

At the same time to balance the Council’s tight budget the lights went out in the Queen Camilla Hospital Operating Theatre.

His father put a reassuring hand on his shoulder and told him ‘Not to worry’ it would start moving again soon.

The bodyguard was however having kittens talking wildly on his headset to someone in the building high above their heads.

The lift didn’t afford much room for four adults and a child and a tiny dog.

Thomas wasn’t worried.

He lived in blissful ignorance of the lift cable snapping or an electrical fire breaking out.

The risk increased somewhat as the noxious smell of a sulphur fart hit the nostrils of the little boy.

Normally, in such delicate social situations adults remain silent.

Little Thomas looked at the nervous security man….then the old wizened Greek Racist….then the old woman with the baggy trousers….and finally he sniffed lightly at the dogs rear.

He knew it wasn’t his father’s brand.

His father knew what was coming from his outspoken son.

Finally, the little seven year old broke convention and asked loudly.

“ Come on… who Shit?”

The regal strangers held their heads in the air, just above the green haze, whereas poor Thomas was trapped in the bad air pocket…like a miner in former Taff Merthyr Colliery after his mate had tuna sandwiches for lunch.

He didn’t give up.

Turning to Chris Ryan, the security man he tugged his sleeve and opened his coat in doing so…”it was you wasn’t it!”.

“ The one that got away!” he said refusing to give up as his nose had been wronged.

“ It wasn’t me…it was that Pembrokeshire Dog!” he said ….”Okay!” he barked.

“ Then you need a Corgi registered installer to sort out his gas emissions!” said the kid not believing Ryan ‘s tale.

As a result, Thomas got his first sight of a loaded gun up close and personal.

“ Cor Mister….can I have a go of that ?” he pleaded as the barrel was pressed into his nostrils.

The security man ignored the child…..

“ You are lucky it is only American troops that shoot civilian kids!” he said a little disappointed.

“ Although if you give me the Royal Assent Ma’am!”

“ How much longer are we to be kept here?” she replied cricking her fingers as if ready to snap a pheasant neck.

Speaking into his headset, he replied ….” Not long now…. Your Highness…the Council have confirmed it is a fault with the lift mechanism….they are speaking to the lift manufacturers Otis in Reading as we speak!” reported the ex SAS man.

“Otis…. Reading!” interrupted the Duke.

“I’ve heard of him….isn’t he one of those tar baby types that used to pick our cotton?” he said leaning forward past the corgi’s arse which was also in Little Thomas line of fire.

The Helen Mirren look-a-like just frowned at her husband and stood impatiently.

“ They do realise that I am over 80 years old now and trapped in a cold metal lift….at my time of life you can’t go too far from the throne!” she said fidgeting.

“ Look Missus…if you gotta piss….you gotta piss !” said the kid.

“ I’ve done it in here before and I know he did too!” he said pointing at his red-faced father.

“ He claimed it was payback for them trying to take my grannies house off him….if you go ill ….will they take that Buckingham Palace Place off you?” asked the child innocently.

For the first time the Queen looked down on her two subjects.

They were ugly, dirty, stank of old chip fat had warts on their faces and roundheads with haircuts from an old pudding bowl.

She noticed that the father, the one with the older warts was holding a Notice to Quit from her own Court .

“ I hope you lot haven’t got rickets, cholera or TB!” she said glaring at Ryan for getting her in this predicament.

“ These peasants are revolting!” said the Duke holding a silk handkerchief with perfume on his noses.

“ So what is the point of having a Royal Family in the 21st Century…when we can’t afford to fund the working man?” asked the young Republican.

“ What is exactly do you lot do for your money….his family home and arrears of Council Tax paid for the last Royal Wedding?”

“ Tourism…!” replied the Duke.

“ That old chestnut…do many tourists come and see all of the other people on the Civil List too….what about tax….do you pay any?” asked the child of Chartism.

“ Of course, We…that’s the Royal We mind you pay lots of tax!” defended the Duke.

“ Might one enquire as to whom?” said Thomas sticking a finger up his own arse and talking poshly.

“ Revenue & Customs!” said the Duke .

“ Who’s exactly?” continued the baby Blairite condescendingly.

“ Her Majesty’s!” came the reply.

“ Exactly and we know where that is spent….not in Merthyr as you can see by our lift services!”

The captives were interrupted by the sound of the doors above being forced open.

The gap unfortunately was only one foot wide…only the corgi could get out.

“ Hurry up will you…she’s busting for a piss!” said Thomas eloquently.

“ If her waters go …I’ll be drowned first in the Royal Wee !” he said.

“ Remember, Britannia rules the waves…..not me!” he shrieked.

In the gap above, a selection of the Council members could be seen peering at them from a height above the lift.

“ At one time to be higher than the Monarch …I could have had them all killed!” said the Queen.

“ Like Diana…you mean!” alleged the straight talking kid.

Both the Duke and the Queen turned their heads of state, the child was below 10 and therefore below the age of criminal responsibility.

It was then the QE2 started to leak angrily.

“ I know it is your ‘Golden Jubilee’ but I don’t want a Golden Shower!” said Thomas.

“ Dad …get your camera-phone out….take a picture of the Queen in mid-flow…we’ll make a fortune….Hello Magazine here it comes….the other ‘celebrities’ take the piss…why shouldn’t wee…..we can save the house!” he declared triumphantly.

In a second the French made -camera flashed and all were blinded by the radiance of Louis 14th the Sun King- .

“ I can’t allow that to happen!” said Ryan.

“ Why not !” protested the child….” It is not illegal!”

“ Taking a shot at the Queen is….now I’ve been Civil….give us the camera-phone!” ordered the soldier.

“ 1789…Liberty, Equality, Fraternity….all them lot are my witnesses…democracy rules in Merthyr!” said Thomas pointing up.

“ Besides …dad has already uploaded it to my face-book account and only I know the password!” said the youngster.

“ What’s your surname kid….said the Duke….the British Government doesn’t negotiate with blackmailers.!”

“ Cromwell !” said the boy proudly.

Looking at the child with warts on his face, a roundhead and a puritanical attitude, the Queen felt a chill running through her blue blooded veins…..history has a nasty habit of repeating itself.

Her cavalier attitude changed.

“ Get ME out now!” she demanded as the level of urine reached ankle level.

Reaching up through the gap with her white Gloves…the gathered elite couldn’t be sure if it was Michael Jackson, the Queen or the snooker referee Len Ganley speaking.

“ If I am not out in five minutes…heads will roll….starting with you!” she said looking at the Council Leader.

After calling in the Council DSO, the gap was widened and she was pulled out albeit indignantly in less than five minutes flat.

The Duke followed.

The same way they responded to other pensioners trapped in the St Tydfils Court, Caedraw Lift.

“ What about the other three?” asked the Council workmen.

Tossing in to the lift shaft a jam sponge, a left over from the delayed bunfight, she said casually…” Let them eat cake!”

“ What’s to become of us?” asked the three sets of eyes peering out of the dark…like a cellar in Lower Thomas Street .

“ Send them to the Tower!” she ordered.

“ Thanks Ma’am…Tower Colliery!” said Richard Cromwell hoping at last to get a better paid Valleys job.

“ Tower of London…peasant!” she said shaking off the drippers through the gap.

The Divine Right of Kings and Queens had been restored.