Trelawnyd Characters circa 1957
Last night there came a tap-tap-tapping on the cottage window.
Out of the darkness, we could just make out the familiar fluorescent yellow of a workman's jacket
It was village elder Islwyn waving a small packet of cough sweets.
Over the years if Chris and I come down with a cold, Islwyn has always taken it upon himself to drop off much needed cough sweets.
It's a little kindness that has become a kind of tradition.
Today, I thought I'd bring together some of the cast of Trelawyd characters that get mentioned in passing during an average week here on Going Gently
The village has no more odd characters than anywhere else.....it's just that I probably look a little closer than most in order to find them
MRS TRELLIS (of North Wales)
A diminutive but vital little widow who can be seen most days being dragged around the village like a minnow in a kingfisher's beak by her psycho sheepdog Satan.
She can be often seen practicing the piano in her living room window
( who is not gay but just incredibly upbeat all of the time/-hence the nickname) can be seen hurtling around Trelawnyd in his suped up invalid trolley. Incredibly loud he is well known for adding the " "FLOWER!" when addressing anyone and everyone and is an exuberant baker responsibe for the " monster fruit cake" sold as refreshments at last year's flower show
PAT ( The Animal helper)
If you want anything done in Trelawnyd you ask Pat to be a part of it.
A villager from birth Pat is school governer, active member of the Women's Institute, Flower Show Committee member ( and winner of the craft and domestic cups on more than one occassion), conservation group member, and all around good egg.
In a crisis, she is the woman that would turn up, sleeves rolled up, to help.
AFFABLE DESPOT JASON
Is responsible for injecting humour into most village based activities. Only yesterday he stopped his car in order to cheerfully berate the pea green colour of my very trendy trousers when I was out with
the dogs. Usually seen with his two daughters in tow ( who always remind me of the Mendoza sisters from Banana splits.) he is the village hall caretaker and is an avid fan, strangely enough, of Jack the
VILLAGE ELDER ISLWYN
If there is a project in the village that needs sorting, Islwyn is the person that can be relied upon to sort it. Famous for eating a bacon sandwich in his own family grave ( he was extending it himself btw) he has single handedly extended and re landscaped the village graveyard.
Known as " Steve" by some of the non Welsh speaking villagers.
Yes, rapidly approaching her century, she is still baking, still taking the bus down to Rhyl to do her shopping and still walking the length of London Road to be first at the Church door for Sunday
services. A legend in her own lifetime.
A somewhat shadowy character, who spends most of his time harrumphing at the state of the cottage kitchen after he arrives from a 14 hour day at the university only to find me cutting the shitty clingons from a dog's arse on the draining board.
As I type this, he is presently eating a bowl of porridge watching Thoroughly Modern Millie
Always cuts an impressive figure when he sweeps into church with his black " Dracula" Cape on.
He is a rector with rather a rakish sense of humour who is usually accompanied by Gaynor -the - organist , a lady with twinkling eyes and a repartee of Joan River-esque one liners.
Another village elder who is responsible for one of my most genuine and affections memories of present day Trelawnyd? On Christmas Eve , during the church service, the Vicar will complete the nativity scene at the front of the Church by grandly calling for the baby Jesus to be brought forward
" Mrs Davis..Bring on the Baby Jesus!" He calls , and Christine will walk down the aisle with Jesus in her hand.
It's a lovely moment and my very favourite one in the service.
SON OF THE RFWF
Long term readers of Going Gently will recall hopefully with some affection, the exploits of the RFWF ( Red Faced Welsh Farmer) A larger than life farmer who sounded for when of a better word,
just like Robert Newton from Treasure Island as he sped past in his battered and old tweed hat and equally battered and old red landrover.
After his death a year or so ago, it is nice to see that his son Ed has taken over his father's role on the community council and in village initiatives. As it turns out, his landrover is blue!
And there are others too numerous to mention......Irene the flower show matriarch, Ralph the gentleman farmer.........Pippa with her bad tempered hound Meg........Hubert the old baker, Stan and Kit ( she makes our bespoke hand knitted slippers)
....Cameron the teenage boffin ......I could go on......and on.......and on........