My favourite photo of vintage Trelawnyd
The junior football team in the school field in the 1940s
Three of the team still live in the village
The other day, when I was out delivering eggs, I walked down chapel street next to the Memorial Hall and was confronted by affable despot Jason's two little girls out on their bikes.
As usual they waved , showed off the tassels on the their handlebars and made a fuss of the dogs before being joined by two slightly older children out on their bikes.
The four of them scooted back and forth down the small lane,a lane which is not even a hundred yards long.
I spied Jason by his gate, he was watching over his girls.
He puffed out his cheeks as if to say, it was hard work keeping a Vigil over the kiddies and as the girls weaved their merry way back and forth on Chapel Street , I suddenly thought how rare a sight it is to see children in the street anymore.
" it feels like a proper village" I called over.
And I meant it
Jason's recollections of the incident, seem to be quite different
anyway speaking of bastards
This little psychopath has suddenly appeared on the field this morning. Not seven inches high, and as full as much bile as a UKIP EMP he has ran around the Ukrainian village karate kicking everything in sight.
Bugger alone knows where he has come from
I am presently typing this with a tea towel wrapped around my hand, my feet raised up on a cushion and with a large mug of sweet tea to hand.