Bay watch: Harry is on Poppit Sands today. Not so many holiday makers on the beach as it's beencool. Yesterday, RNLI Lifeguards in Newgale rescued a surfer in difficulties.

The Island of Rhodes: Oliver and Hannah arrived safely and texted to say they had reached their hotel. It was very hot and they were heading for the beach.

Due to the parlous state of the economyin Greece, the holiday has come at a bargain price.

With onlyeight hundred souls in the villageitsounds the type of placeyou might be expected to milkyour own goat before breakfast, but this year I would not be surprised if they were shown to the executivesuite in the hotel.

Maudie and Ffion are in Disneyland Paris whereit is definitely not cheap.

Last week,Maudieand Ffionsaidthat in the leavers' 'Gwasanaeth' in school,messageswere read out, wishing'PobLwc' to those going to Ysgol Y Preseli.

'Everyone cried: the headteacher, the teachers and' (most impressively for the girls) 'even the boys'.

Later, I was summoned tothe garden,to see a dead blue-tit. We placed the unfortunatebirdin aflower-pot, linedwith an acanthus leaf to give it some dignity.

Maudieappointed herself 'Vicaress'. Ffion and I took the roles of 'Chief Mourners', in this other type of leaving ceremony. The traditional words ofthe Burial Service rolled off Maudie's tongue.(Do they show burialson 'Hannah Montana?').

Then theflower pot was givento Ffion, who said 'Goodbye, tweetie pie' and to myself, who added 'Killed by a pussy cat'.

'No, No!' Maudie wouldn't allow that. Cats do no wrong.

Afterwards, wewashed our hands and the girls picked petals and soaked their feet in pans of warm water, strewn with the petals.

After we'd eatena punnet of pica-pica cherries, theyfoundaTV musicchannel. I wasallowed to choose the songs and we danced to 'Ra Ra Rasputin' and the 'Bosa Nova', asI didn't know any of the others.

When my daughters arrived to take the girls home, they asked if we'd had a nice time, which set me thinking: time and space, how do we evaluate it, thoughts of thatkind.

Icould have said we'd covered 'empathy' and religion, (the school service and the bird's funeral), hygiene, (washing hands and feet), botany (the petals), nutrition (the cherries), health and safety (the cherry stones), technology (the TV), music and movement (dance) if I'd wanted to sound educational, but all we did wasenjoy ourselves.

Trouble is, I'm concentrating too much on whatpeople say.

T.S.Elliot said time past, present and future shall be one, sowhy do we insist on talking about 'quality' time. Ever heard anyone say 'I'm off to spend some rubbish time with my children', so whythe

insistence on talking about quality time? All time is a gift which doesn't last, that's one pointto remember.

Then those people in slimming magazineswho cut their weight down 'for me'. Who was it they got fat for, then?

('Me' knows that if 'me' can't hold back on the veggie crisps'me's' going to get fat.)

Then there's the mothers whodo things 'for me', after bringing their children up.

'Me's'no brain box but 'me' knows 'me' had the children for 'me'.

'Me' took a job so that'me' wouldn't go off'me' head vacuuming all day. Most of the things 'me' has done in 'me' life is because 'me' wanted to.

Without going into a philosophical debate about the degree of choice one has or has not, let's try to be honest when deciding what and why wedo things. As Freud said, theconsequences of ouractions reveal our motivation and perhaps we shouldspend some time considering that.

Friends, Romans, Cymry Fach, lend me your ears. Clustiau, nawr.

I'm here to discuss the great national dish of Wales, Cawl. Cawl Potch, Cawl Pys, Cawl Cennin.

'Some like it hot, some like it cold andsome like it in the pot, nine days' old'. Ugh. (Nursery Rhyme).

Apparently, some 'Cardis' developed a form of scurvy because they ateCawl too often.Oranges were prescribed to cure the condition. Could be lemons, ifyou're a Royal Navytype and you like them.

The main ingredients needed for Cawl are a ham bone,best end of neck or scrag, if you can get it.(Mutton is difficult to obtain, apparently). Then leeks, parsley, carrots, potatoes, parsnips, whatever you can glean, seasoning and water. Sir Gar butter, bread and cheese, to accompany the cawl, wrth gwrs.

We cooked cawl, when I was a child, in a large blue enamelled saucepan, the inside of which was white. The handle was very long so thecook didn't burn her wrists on the flameswhen lifting the saucepan onto the fender-('Sospan Fawr, Yn Berwi ar y Llawr').

Thesaucepan should be large enough to contain all the ingredients. Some people like a lot of liquid, to dip their bread in, which can betrickyif the saucepan is notbig. A large iron casseroleis a good choice, if you arms are strong enough to manoeuvre it. Just bring to the boil andsimmer for a few hours.

Some people add the leeks and parsley five minutes before the end of cooking time. I don't like leeks squeaking between my teeth, so I give them ten minutes. You could add dumplings to the stew (nice, Ithink) and they thicken, it, too.

There are two schools of thought on thickening: I like it, Peter doesn't.

Just take your pick, or your cawl spoon, rather.

Quay Street, Haverfordwest, was known as Ship Street many years ago. On the waterfrontthe inn known as the 'Bristol Trader' still stands.

No respectable person venturedinto this area after dark, forcrews of all nationalities lodged in the area.Swarthy faces with glistening scars, oiled pigtails and golden ear-rings sat down to long nights of revelry, drinking, fighting and wenching in the 'Bristol Trader'.

On August 14, 1907, two boats from Brittany tied up at the quay, both bearing a cargo of onions. The 'Germaine'arrived first, followed by the 'Adele'. Both boats had made good time from Boscoff, reaching Haverfordwest thirty three hours later.

Some bad feelingbetween the two crews blew up, ending in a fight. Eventually, tempers cooledand the rest of the stay passed without incident. Most of the sailors were well behaved, with very good English. Atnight, they slept ten to a room in cramped conditions in the warehouses on the Old Quay

Long ropes ofonions were sold in the town by the men known as 'Sioni Winwns, (Johnny Onions). Peasantproprietors, they were well off in a small way. The onionssold for two shillings a hank, buttowards the end of their stayprices were dropped to four pence half penny. Loose onions sold for a penny halfpenny a pound.

The onion sellers were good customers in the Italian ice-cream parloursof Haverfordwest, where they were given a warm welcomeeach year.

The Blue of the Night

She said it was the time she loved the best,

The hour when day caresses night

In deepest shades of blue,

When stars shine in the darkest light

And earth takes on an azure hue.

Golden Byzantium and Rose Red Petra,

Your body guilds my lips, my words

Shimmering shadows across the sands

Of time, whispering softly

In the twilight you called 'L'heure bleu'.

Ages have passed, I think, or so it seems

And I have tasted lips carved cold.

Now lengthening shadows blot the light

In the dusk I call 'The Blues of the Night'.

The old Port of Haverfordwest has a long history of sea-trading, much of it with Bristol.

Town records dating from the early fifteenth century contain a letter from Bristol to the town of Harforde. Written in French itdetailsmalpractice on the part of Sir Bartholomew de Badlesmere, who had been Constable at Bristol for a number of years.

Irregularities had been discovered in the custom duties Sir Bartholomew had been exacting from merchants, including Harforde merchants, using the Port of Bristol.The letter requested that Haverfordwest should bring this matter to the attention of the King.

Towards the end of the sixteenth century the quay fell into a very bad state of repair and for many years nothing was done about it. By 1616, its condition was so perilous that the burgesses were called to account at the Great Sessions.

As there was no fund set aside for maintenance, the quay had to be repaired as cheaply as possible.

By using voluntary labour, a sum of eight pounds nine shillings was saved, leaving a deficit of fifty pounds which was needed to complete the work.

It was decided to raise this money by imposing a rate on the town. The Mayor and Corporation had great difficulty securing the money and were censured by the Chief Justice at the Great Sessions of 1624.

Harry rang from Poppit beach on Wednesday. Had his surfboard come?

There was a party, somewhere outin the wilds but he'd be along to get the board the following day.

Yesterday,we helped himunpack the massive box it came in.

I had imagined a big board but it was only five feet eight in length. I remarked how light it was, which pleased him immensely.

Since the board had cost five hundred pounds,anappreciation of the finer pointswas welcome. His face assumed a contented expression as he smoothedthe mix of poly this andresin that which made up the composition of the board.

Then Peter andI were both invited to feel the wood which edged the board, as though we were touching the toe of a plaster saint, in homage to his martyrdom.

Harry's friendhad abespoke board, with his name written on it in the factory. Ithad cost about a thousand pounds,thus making Harry appearthrifty.

There were four fins. Harryscrewed the first one in, as he was the owner andthat was only right, then asked if I wouldlike to screw the next, (my treat, I think). I was cautioned not to screw too tightly. When I wondered if the metal screws would rust I was assured,

'No. No. Nothing rusts on this board'.(I should have known, becausethis was 500 pounds worth of cutting edge technology. Vorsprung technik, or whatever term is used in the Black Forest.)

Large waves and smaller waves require different angles of approach, we learnt,and so the board was thrust across the settee, by way of demonstration. The fins had their uses, especially when turning the board to come back to land. Soon, we would know all the technical points, even if we never got our feet wet again.

'How much did I think the fins cost?' I gave it careful thought. There were four, made from plasticky stuff, so I said, 'Twenty five pounds?'

'Twenty five pounds each, you mean?That's right', Harry said. I can keep quiet sometimes and I did.

A forty pound bagto protect the board would be needed, a piece of sponge rubber to stop Harry's feet slipping off would be about the same price.

(It's likein the hairdressers: 'You're having your hair streaked? Would you like a shampoo as well?'

I replied I didn't want to go home with the bleach still wet on my head, so I said, 'Yes'. The receptionist smiled happily. The shampoo was extra.)

But let's return to the board, whichpossesses so manydesirable properties. Atwenty stone man could stand on it and it wouldn't break. There was a valve on one side of the board so on a plane the air pressure wouldn't cause it to crack.

'Where were youthinking of going with the board?'

'Anywhere. Hawaii?'.

Eventually Harry left, a serene lookon his face. I promised to take some snaps of him in the sea.

I rang later and asked my daughter what Harry was doing.

'On the computer. I expecthe's looking at the cost of chartering a jet to take him and the board somewhere.'

We are allowed to be young once only, in thedreams of our youth. If my name was Hannah or Meg, I'd bethere, with Harry and Ollie, riding the big ones in Hawaii, Biarritz or Freshwater. And another thing. Youth is not wasted on the young. They are the ones whoknow best how to enjoy it.

The Welsh Port Books show that imported goods were vital to Haverfordwest's economy.

Salt, coal and iron were among the most needed commodities.

Captain Franciscus Antonio deposited a cargo of 12 tons of salt and ten tons of iron into the port on September 13th, 1550, on board the 'Sanctus Sebastian'. More salt arrived on St Stephen's Day, December 26, 1551, when 'Le Germagus', captained by Pers Consalvys, delivered 66 tons of salt.

Salt was importantto flavour food and curebacon and herrings, for consumption during the winter months.

On November 17th, 1550, the 'Leonardo de Pardo', captained by John Spyndola, delivered a cargo of 50 butts of Malmsey wine, which must have added a sparkle to winter nights in Haverfordwest.

Roger Marcrosse, a merchant of the town, commissioned the 'Le James of Milford', captained by Owen Ffollond, to import a cargo of coal, which was bought by the wealthier townspeople.

The port continued to be busy well into the nineteenth century. On one occasion, at the beginning of the century, when sailing ships were still dependent on wind, boats bound for Haverfordwest were becalmed for six weeks and salt had to be brought overland from Carmarthen.

Trade with Bristol was extensive andeach week, a steamer left Haverfordwest for Bristol. In 1852, Bristol Bills of Entry show forty four shipments of butter and sixteen shipments of cheese, many from Haverfordwest.

One area of the docks in Bristol where Welsh ships tied up became known as the 'Welsh Back'.

John Phillips Esq of Haverfordwest kept an account book showing that between 1839 and 1845 he received household goods from Bristol, London and Liverpool.