This morning is morphing into the pace of yesterday........
this is what happens in a village
As I cut all of the barbed wire from the top of the pig's enclosure, the red faced Welsh farmer speeds past waving cheerfully from his land rover window as he does so
Auntie Gladys is sat at her dining room table polishing her brass....she has had visits from six neighbours and friends already this morning
The fresh bread down at the new village shop is selling as fast as the home made pies did yesterday, and Peter has just ambled past the cottage with his trusty black Labrador in tow, he always lets me know if he spies any foxes down the felin.
Pippa's leggy mongrel chases rabbits noisily around the deserted old Churchyard as the guinea fowl scream at her from the safety of the wooden fencing
and at the bus stop Meirion and Mrs Jones (pen-y-cefn) are waiting patiently....they wave shyly
This is Trelawnyd

