Whitchurch and Llandaff Living Issue 21

WHITCHURCH AND LLANDAFF

Living

FR

EE

Issue 21

December ‘12 / January ’13

Cerys Matthews:

My Memories of Whitchurch

Christmas in

North Cardiff:

Festive Cheer in our Villages

E N I Z A G A M E E R F YOUR F F A D N A L L , H C R U H C T I H W R O F H T R O N F F A D N A AND LL

!

3

news

5 8

letters

interview

12 16 21 22 25

local talent

gardens

history

memories

pets page

30 31 recipes

column 2

I

Welcome Croeso

begin with some sad news unfortunately. I usually write these welcome pages with a little friend of mine sat next to me. Sadly, our little office cat here in Rhiwbina, and friend for the last four years, Kaytu, passed away suddenly in October.

Abandoned as a kitten, he very much made Rhiwbina his home when we collected him. He was a very loving cat, and made us all feel very special. So we’d like to dedicate this Christmas issue to our feline friend, Kaytu.

This issue, as usual at Christmas, is packed with festive treats and fun. First up, we were delighted to get a phone call from Cerys Matthews. She was at home in Pembroke, getting ready for Christmas and her winter tour. She recalls her childhood memories of North Cardiff on page 8.

We also meet a local author, Leela Dutt on page 12. Gareth Neale pens another fascinating history feature on page 21, while Llandaff North gardener, Kevin Revell takes us through the winter with his gardening feature on page 16.

It’s been such a busy year, but we sincerely hope that you all get some rest over the holiday period.

A Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to all our readers.

Patric and Danielle (editors)

A: 222 Pantbach Road, Rhiwbina, Cardiff CF14 6AG T: 07772 081775 / 07974 022920 E: editor@livingmags.co.uk W: www.livingmags.co.uk While every effort has been made to ensure the accuracy of the contents, the publisher cannot accept any responsibility for errors or omissions, or for any matter in any way arising from the publication of this material.

Every effort has been made to contact any copyright holders.

Whitchurch and Llandaff Living is an independent, apolitical publication.

Advertising booking and copy deadline for Issue 22 Friday 1st February 2013.

Issue 22 publication date - February 2012.

Whitchurch and Llandaff Living is published 5 times a year.

Cover by Patric Morgan

RAM RAIDERS MAKE OFF WITH TOBACCO Thieves recently used a car to smash through the front door of Danescourt Co-op and made off with a large amount of tobacco.

LLANDAFF CATHEDRAL CHRISTMAS CONCERT ‘A Cathedral Christmas’ - the Llandaff Cathedral Choir Christmas Concert will be taking place on Saturday 15th December 2012.

The concert will include a selection of Christmas music from the choristers and men of Llandaff Cathedral Choir and the Royal Welsh College of Music and Drama Brass Ensemble, introduced by BBC Cymru Wales’ Lucy Owen.

The choir sang for the Queen earlier this year and have recently released a CD called “Majestas” which is available on Amazon. co.uk now and will be available for sale at the concert.

The choir will be posting a copy to the Queen on Sunday this week as a Christmas present, as she commented during her visit that she particularly enjoyed “Te Deum” in B flat - Track 1 on the disc. All profits will go to African based charities.

The choir will also be interviewed on Radio Wales later this month and are singing on Radio 3 in January 2013.

news

Christmas Lights

Get the Big Switch On WEST END STAR AND OLYMPIC BOXER HELP SPREAD FESTIVE CHEER

People recently turned out in their hundreds to watch Sound of Music star Connie Fisher switch on the Christmas lights in Llandaff.

The festive lights in High Street were officially turned on by the Welsh singer - with Father Christmas also there to see in the festive period.

Entertainment was provided by the Cathedral School Brass Band, who played carols throughout the evening. A choir of over 80 girls from the nearby Howell’s School also performed songs.

Geoffrey Barton-Greenwood, Chair of the Llandaff Society, said it had been a “fantastic evening” with hundreds and hundreds of people turning out

to see the switch-on.

Meanwhile, over in Llandaff North, Olympic silver medallist Fred Evans gave residents there a good reason to cheer as he turned on the Christmas lights on Station Road. He was joined

by Cardiff Blues stars Rhys Patchell and Chris Czekaj.

Hawthorn Primary School, Gabalfa Primary School and Cardiff Male Choir provided the seasonal music for the evening and Father Christmas even managed to make it.

Organiser Lewys Wootten said: “It was a brilliant evening and everyone enjoyed it. I’d say around 400 to 500 people turned out, which is great for a small village.” he said.

CAMPAINGERS GET TOGETHER TO FIGHT COUNCIL EXPANSION PLANS A campaign group has been set up to fight proposals for almost 3,000 new homes in North Cardiff. The group recently held its first meeting, with members claiming the plans are the “biggest threat we have ever faced as a community”.

Cardiff Council’s Local Development Plan (LDP)

preferred strategy, which was adopted by the local authority in October, proposes building 2,750 homes as part of an overall plan to build 45,400 new homes in Cardiff by 2026.

But Creigiau residents said they had serious concerns about what the plans would mean for their village and North Cardiff.

3

news

Living the Life in the Beacons

NEW DEAN APPOINTED AT CATHEDRAL Venerable Janet Henderson has been appointed as the new dean of Llandaff Cathedral.

Tongwynlais Village Get Its Own Website

By Jack of Tongwynlais.com

The Rotary Club of Cardiff (City of Llandaff) has sponsored and funded four Cardiff students in the age range 16-18 years to attend one of their five day Rotary Youth Leadership Award (RYLA) courses. The courses were held in the Brecon Beacons in July and August of this year.

The four candidates were: • Decklan Bygrave who attended Rumney High School and is also a member of 1344 Squadron Air Training Corps based at Maindy Barracks in Cardiff.

• Olivia Stickland. Olivia attended Willows High School in Tremorfa and is also a Sea Cadet at the Training Ship Cardiff.

• Leighanne Kelly. Leighanne attended Cantonian High School.

• Luke Maharg. Luke attended Llanederyn High School and is also a member of 30F Squadron Air Training Corps based in Llandaff North.

The course aim is to develop the leadership skills of young people through a testing programme of external activities ranging from hill walking, abseiling, canoeing and caving.

Various schools and Armed Forces cadet units within Cardiff were invited to apply for the places at Dolygaer and the successful ones were selected by interview.

Selection for the next course will start early in 2013. The City of Llandaff Rotary Club has been established for nearly fifty years and has a proud history of supporting local and international projects.

Tongwynlais.com was created in the summer of 2012 by a small group of local residents and launched on 1st August 2012.

The purpose of the site is to give the residents of Tongwynlais a voice and to promote the village.

We want to provide the village with a platform to generate ideas, discuss issues and to share stories. The website has information for residents and visitors, event listings, a map, gallery and a blog.

Social media sites like Facebook and Twitter are used to share news and photos, report issues to the council, start campaigns or simply get to know your neighbours.

We hope to recruit more volunteers to contribute to stories and highlight the people, places and activities in and around the village. Tongwynlais has a lot to offer and we want to let people know. Find more at www.tongwynlais.com

The winners of the recent competition run by Top Gun Fish & Chip Co., to mark the launch of their new restaurant/ take away in Pentwyn have been announced.

Pupils from primary schools in the CF14 and CF23 postcodes entered a competition to name the new lighthouse mascots for

both restaurants in Pentwyn and Whitchurch, which have been designed by Mumph!, The South Wales Echo’s own cartoonist.

The Whitchurch mascot has been named ‘Chipster’ by winning Year 5 pupil, 9 year old Archie Dell’Armi from Ton-YrYwen Primary School. Archie has also won £500 for his school

and will also enjoy a party for 20 to celebrate with friends.

The Pentwyn mascot has been named ‘Charlie Fisher’ by winning Year 5 pupil, 9 year old Tyler Phillips.

City of Llandaff Rotary Club Sponsors New Young Leaders

TOP GUN CHIP SHOP OPENS NEW RESTAURANT

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If you’d like to get in touch, you can find our address on the inside front cover.

Alternatively, you can email us at editor@livingmags.co.uk

A THANKS TO YOUR READERS

letters

Just to inform you that I was nominated this year for the Community Safety Volunteer of the Year 2012 award for my work and commitment in Neighbourhood Watch. I was also invited to attend the presentation evening at the Princess Royal Theatre, Port Talbot on the 27th September, 2012.

I enjoy my involvement with Neighbourhood Watch and don’t do this for any reward but, I must admit, it was very nice that what I do is appreciated and recognised within the community and by South Wales Police.

I would like to thank everyone for their very kind comments regarding my awards and to thank you all for your continued

THE PHILOG REVISITED As a man of the Heath, can I please draw your attention to a significant omission in David Griffiths’ review – in your Autumn edition – of retail services on the Philog.

He fails to mention a Fish and Chip business named the Charlton. I became familiar with it as a 10 year old in 1943/4 when the Heath Camp was occupied by the U.S. Army’s 90th Division. Despite the inmates appearing to be amply provided for, I and others regularly shopped for them after school hours. Their main requirements centred on fish and chips and also bakery products, to a lesser extent. Whilst we used all the local outlets, the Charlton and

support for Neighbourhood Watch.

BILL FARNHAM Acting Chair, South Wales Neighbourhood Watch Association Cardiff

THE IMMACULATE CONCEPTION – A POPULAR MISCONCEPTION? As we celebrate the birth of Jesus this Christmas, we often (rightly) make reference to the Virgin Mary, his mother, and often refer to Jesus’ birth as a result of the Immaculate Conception. Many people confuse the Immaculate Conception with the ‘virgin birth’; they are not the same thing!

The doctrine of the Immaculate Conception teaches that Mary Eddy’s were most the most favoured suppliers. Initially, Eddy’s were reluctant to meet the demand, because of general food shortages but were willing suppliers once they realised who we were shopping for.

The Charlton was a favoured provider over others because of a perceived tastier product.

Naturally, the boys who participated were rewarded with cash, cigarettes, chewing gum etc. for services rendered and a willingness to go to the fences despite, in later months, the presence of armed British Military Police who patrolled the perimeter fences in the lead-up to D-Day in order to limit the sight of preparations for the invasion of Europe and careless talk by the troops.

herself was conceived without sin and her conception was thus immaculate. Mary’s sinless conception is the reason why Roman Catholics refer to Mary as “full of grace”.

Mary received God’s grace from the first moment of her existence, and was totally and completely redeemed by this grace. Because she was redeemed, Mary spent her whole existence in a perfect relationship with God and led a life without sin. God did this so that Mary would be worthy to be the mother of God. I would point out, however, that this is the official viewpoint of the Roman Catholic Church, and is also held by Anglo-Catholics within The Church in Wales.

Other Anglicans and almost all Protestant churches, however, do not see the need to believe this doctrine.

HOWARD WILKINS Rhiwbina

Two of the G.I.s, my brother I and befriended, came to our home on several occasions in the early days for home comforts and remained in contact with us for many years after the War. I attended the funeral of one in Minneapolis three years ago in which he was accorded full Military Honours – flags, rifle salvoes, bugles etc. – very moving!

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Last month St John's College Concert Orchestra and Cardiff Metropolitan Cathedral Choir undertook a musical tour of the historic Belgian towns of Bruges and Ghent.

The Cathedral Choir performed an afternoon concert in the magnificent setting of the Onze Lieve Vrouvekerk (Church of Our Lady), which boasts the tallest spire in the city and a marble sculpture of the Madonna and Child by Michelangelo.

Beforehand, our close harmony group gave a preconcert rendition of songs by Michael Jackson and the Beach Boys to crowds near the square. The Concert itself was very well received by a large and appreciative audience.

St John's College is the Choir School to Cardiff Metropolitan Cathedral and the boy and girl choristers' principal role is to sing a small number of weekly services at the Wales's National Roman Catholic Cathedral in the heart of Cardiff. They also perform in broadcasts on BBC Radio and most recently appeared in a major Hollywood film to be released in 2013, as well as two annual concerts at St David’s Hall. Earlier this year, the Choir performed a joint concert with internationally acclaimed consort, The Tallis Scholars, and on Tuesday 27 November 2012 the Cathedral Choir will sing its annual lunchtime Christmas Concert at St David's Hall, Cardiff, 1pm (Tickets £5.50, Box Office: 02920 878 444).

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s y r Ce

Cerys Matthews talks exclusively to Living Magazines about Christmas, being cosy, and her childhood in North Cardiff

“

I’ve just lit my fire and I’m getting cosy. What’s it like in Cardiff?”

Cerys Matthews is at home in Pembrokeshire. For the exCatatonia front woman and Radio 6 DJ, it’s a rare time to relax at home.

“It’s lovely here. The sun’s shining but it is cold.”

The picture she paints is very different to the grey mist that has swallowed up Cardiff on a cold winter morning. The Welsh capital is of course, where Cerys was brought up and lived when she first shot to fame during the 1990s.

“We used to live in Whitchurch. We had an Uncle Gwyn who lived at the top of Rhiwbina. We’d often go to visit him, and then head out into the woods to pick blackberries. The M4 was being built at the time and we’d sit and watch the workers. The thing I remember about it most was the soil. It was red, all of it red. They also created this monster mound with the waste soil and we’d play on it. I think it’s still there at the top of Rhiwbina.”

For a moment, Cerys goes blank as she struggles to remember the name of the school she attended as a youngster.

“Nan!” she shouts. “NAN! Which school did I go to in Llandaff?” There’s a muffled conversation in Welsh before Cerys comes back on the phone and announces the word ‘Bryntaf ’ very proudly.

Cerys’s love of music started at a young age, yet it was during the nineties, when Welsh talent was riding on a crest of a wave, that she found recognition. Wellknown for fronting Catatonia, Cerys also collaborated with Tom Jones and Space.

interview After Catatonia split, Cerys began exploring other forms of music, taking her to the US and back. But it is her latest work that has seen Cerys really opening up her creative pools. During November, Cerys will be singing live at a Ballet Cymru performance in London.

“Their Artistic Director, Darius, got in touch. They had all loved my latest album, Tir. Darius is something of a visionary. I did ballet as a child; it’s such a beautiful art-form so when they asked me to do it, I gave them an “Absolute Yes!” I’ve even taken ballet up again now as an adult. I like to pretend that I’m Margaret Fontaine, even though I probably look like an elephant.

“But I’m so excited about the performances. And I’m so proud that Wales has its own wonderful ballet company.”

Ballet isn’t the only show that Cerys will be putting on this winter. Her tour is set to take her the length and breadth of Britain in the run-up to Christmas.

“I love anything mid-winter. I love Christmas. I want to be a bear and hibernate for the

winter when I think about the weather turning cold.

“So the tour is my way of keeping people warm during the winter months. It’s just me, on my own. No pyrotechnics, no dance routines. Just a nice relaxing evening of traditional songs from all over the world by candlelight.

“There are two gigs, one in the afternoon and one in the evening when we play Cardiff on Friday 7th December.”

The show, at the Royal Welsh College of Music and Drama draws together a wide-ranging collection of songs that stretch back into history.

“I find it fascinating to discover music and ways of life that people would have enjoyed 300 years ago or more. I’ve also got a Christmas album up my sleeve. And a sing-along book that will be published next year.”

For Cerys, embracing new ideas means that life is more interesting.

“I wouldn’t want to go back to the days of Catatonia. Life’s too short. It was enjoyable at the time but what I’m doing now is even more enjoyable.

You grow up, and as you do, you open your eyes to the

magic of the world around you. You have to keep learning, keep reading.”

Reading is one pastime that Cerys will need to undertake on an industrial level this winter. She has recently joined the judging panel of the Sony Reader Award for Unpublished Writers, a newly created category for the 2012 Dylan Thomas Prize.

“I’m being forced to make time to read. Usually reading is something that comes at the end of the day when all the chores have been done. But now I’ve got twelve novels to get through. I’m reading them where and whenever I can.

And I’m loving it!”

Looks like it’s going to be a very busy winter for Cerys Matthews.

You can join Cerys every Sunday at 10am on Radio 6.

Twitter: @cerysmatthews W: www.cerysmatthews. co.uk

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Local Types “I’m an outsider.” says Leela Dutt, sipping on the straw of her fruit juice. “I grew up in Golders Green with an Indian father and a Danish mother, and after reading history at Oxford, I’ve lived in Rhiwbina for most of my adult life.”

Snails is busy and I’m sat opposite the local author and a resident of Rhiwbina for a the last few decades.

“Ever since I was a child, I’ve always written about the things that happened to me and around me, as letters and later on emails to friends. As I began to travel around the world, I turned my experiences into fiction. I am always drawn to humorous situations but I also write about serious dramas and tragedies of life.”

Cardiff has played its part in inspiring Leela to write.

“My book Rubik’s Cube arose from the mingling of the different strands of life I saw around me in Cardiff in the 1980s: the local Quaker group I belonged to, the most peculiar people who lived next door in Lon-y-Deri, all set against the background of the geopolitical situation of the time – the Cold War, American cruise missiles based in Britain and the threat to life on earth itself. It was shortlisted in a Welsh Arts Council competition.”

Another of Leela’s books was inspired by more modern-day influences.

“Mathison is inspired by Alan Turing’s famous proposition that a computer program could one day be written that was so intelligent that it could fool someone into thinking that it was itself human.

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2012 is the centenary of Turing’s birth – a good time to read this novel, which is supposedly written by a computer program called Mathison. It has been wellreviewed on Amazon.

“Kingfisher Blue is an affectionate collection of short stories about fictitious Quakers dealing with divorce, death and drains, told by a wide variety of men and women ranging in age from 22 to 90, set in Canada and Wales, in England and Outer Space. It was written in response to a request from the national body of Quakers for new Quaker fiction. They liked the first four stories I sent them and asked for more.

“I was delighted to be picked to be part of the second Brit Writers Publishing Programme, chosen for my story idea, my writing talent and my platform. Through this scheme, I met a number of hardworking and talented writers, and I have been greatly encouraged and helped by being invited to join with them to form Wonderbookland, an online writing co-operative.

“I have always written to share my work with friends around the world, rather than to make a lot of money, so with my latest novel now out on Kindle for £2.06 this has become more possible than ever before. But many of my friends have told me they don’t have a Kindle, so the novel is now a paperback for £7.99 which can be ordered from Amazon, the Book Depository or from bookshops.”

Leela’s latest novel, Only a Signal Shown is a long-distance love story covering three decades at the end

of the twentieth century.

“The chapters are set in many of the countries which I have visited.

The story begins in a Nigerian university, inspired by my living there for a year in the early 1970s when my first two children were very young. I used the dramatic events of the South African armed invasion of Lesotho as the climax of my story. I was intimately involved with this invasion because our daughter Jo Attfield had just arrived in Lesotho to teach maths when South Africa invaded and Jo was immediately evacuated by the British; she had to ring me up from a hotel in a place I’d never heard of in South Africa and ask me to pay the bill.

“I write a lot of short stories these days, and am thinking of publishing a new collection, together with some of the stories originally seen in Kingfisher Blue since those stories have been generously critiqued. As for travel, I am now setting my sights on Tanzania since a nephew of mine has recently gone there to work. I am also toying with ideas for my next novel.” http://leeladutt.wordpress.com www.leeladutt.co.uk http://www.amazon.com/ author/leeladutt

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Howell’s School, Llandaff Howell’s scHool, llandaff, is renowned for its long tradition of academic excellence and was described in the south wales echo on 1st september as “the top independent school in wales”, based on the public examination results. from a large Gcse cohort, almost half the results (47*) were at the top a* grade, with 78% a* and a. at a level, over half the entries (55%) were awarded a* or a. These results reflect the positive attitude towards learning and hard work of the students, combined with the teaching expertise of a highlyqualified and experienced staff. important as these results are for the students’ future prospects, the school aims to provide much more. in a vibrant and friendly atmosphere, they are able to benefit from state-of-the art facilities and enjoy a huge range of stimulating extracurricular opportunities.

These range from clubs including, chess, debating, photography and radio, to entrepreneurial, sporting, musical and dramatic activities, and from involvement with charity fund-raising to educational visits at home and abroad. students are almost guaranteed to leave school with raised self-confidence as well as other important life skills. all members of the Howell’s community, whatever their interests and aptitudes, are valued and their achievements or contribution to school life acknowledged.

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TooT weeks

Did you know that Howell’s now offers year-round cover for young girls aged from three to seven with the introduction of TOOT (Themed Out Of Term) weeks? Siblings, both male and female, are welcome to join in the TOOT activities. And for the tiny tots, we offer Stay and Play on Tuesday mornings, with no booking required, when babies and toddlers are able to enjoy new and exciting activities while their parents or carers meet and chat over a cup of coffee. We also offer Stay and Swim sessions on Friday mornings. These sessions are very popular so do book in advance; all the details can be found on the school’s website, by emailing stayandplay@ how.gdst.net or ringing 029 2026 1839.

To gain a real feel for the atmosphere and find out in detail what the school offers, do come and pay us a visit. Just ring our Admissions Officer on 029 2026 1832 or email admissions@how.gdst.net.

hoWell’S SChool, llandaFF

Girls 3-16, Co-ed 16-18

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more than an education…

Come along and see for yourself  Year 7 entranCe examination

Friday January 18th 2013

 Whole SChool open aFternoon

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SChool buSeS From CoWbridGe, the ValleYS, bridGend, neWport, penarth and CardiFF areaS

Wednesday 20th February 2013

029 2026 1832 1. The Owl Sanctuary visit our Nursery; 2. Junior School icE costain Engineering event; 3. Senior School students at World Science experiment; 4. college Enrichment Programme

admissions@how.gdst.net www.howells-cardiff.gdst.net N u r T u r i N g E xc E l l E N c E

registered charity no. 306983

the winter garden

by Kevin Revell

Christmas is a time of role reversal when trees, flowers and foliage are brought into the house along with gardeners, who may be found overindulging during the festive season.

There is plenty to be doing outside however if sufficient enthusiasm can be mustered, with pruning and lawn care taking priority when conditions allow. Raking, scarifying and spiking are fine warming jobs on a cold winter’s day and it is possible to work up a good appetite prior to feasting, or work off a hangover and excess calories the morning after.

Tasks are often better tackled now while the weather is relatively calm in December before the potentially foul weather of January and driving snow puts a stop to virtually any activity apart from building snowmen.

Christmas trees were brought into popular culture by Prince Albert in Victorian times, the custom reminding him of his Germanic roots shared enthusiastically by many Anglo Saxons in Britain for whom such behaviour must have had some sort of folk memory.

Some plants will forever be associated with the festive season; the holly and the ivy have been immortalised in a popular Christmas carol although their use as winter

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decoration in the house has an altogether earlier pagan association.

Likewise mistletoe is linked with Nordic gods and druids, with a distribution and life cycle that borders on the magical.

We have a few isolated examples in South Wales, particularly in old orchards, but in Herefordshire and Worcestershire, numerous alder and field maples are garlanded with this semi-parasitic oddity. Many failed attempts at introducing it into my own garden illustrate that its passage through the digestive tract of a mistle thrush seems to be important in its likely success and it will only grow on certain trees. Although it relies on the host plant for water and nutrients, it can at least manufacture its own food so doesn’t place too much strain on the old trees it seems to favour.

How cyclamen and poinsettia came to represent Christmas is anyone’s guess but probably has something to do with clever marketing and their convenient flowering time.

Christmas cacti, while not actually true cacti, do at least flower at about the right time and can be relied to come back into flower year after year.

Moth orchids (Phalanopsis) are now available in a bewildering range of colours and can also be

persuaded back into bloom with minimal effort. Once they were the preserve of Victorian glasshouses and moustachioed gardeners, who wore ties under their overalls and laboured for long hours persuading small seedling to grow at her ladyship’s behest.

The persistence of holly leaves through the harshest winter weather must have seemed miraculous to our prehistoric and medieval forebears, when most other plants were bare and winter fodder for animals hard to come by so it was obviously treated with some reverence and brought into the house, behaviour we continue to exhibit to this day.

The bright red berries make it invaluable for winter decoration and wreaths if you can beat the local blackbirds and thrushes that seem to take an interest just as the weather turns cold in the week or two before Christmas.

Of course, it is its ability to feed and home wildlife that make it so useful in the garden and countryside; it certainly makes a prickly hideout for nesting and roosting birds and is ideal for us to use for burglar-proof hedging. Native holly is dioecious bearing male and female flowers on separate plants so a male plant will

christmas gardens

never bear berries.

Not all holly is green and prickly however; there are numerous smooth leaved cultivars which useful in a garden where children are present and easier to use for wreath making.

Ilex aquifolium ‘Silver Queen’, in spite of its name is a male form which will bear no berries, ‘Handsworth New Silver’ is a good berry bearing variegated form with handsome purple new shoots.

Another popular evergreen shrub for the garden at Christmas time is Skimmia japonica, female forms of which bears bright red berries and is ideal for festive pots and containers.

‘Nymens’ and ‘Olympic Flame’ are worth seeking out over the more commonly seen ‘Reevesiana’ which looks good in a pot but does not perform as well in the garden.

The male form such as ‘Rubella’ or ‘Fragrant Cloud’ has attractive buds which persist through winter blooming in early spring with a wonderfully strong scent which hangs on the air.

Ivy is another evergreen plant which comes into its own in winter and is particularly welcome in the house at Christmas time, usually garlanding the fireplace or peeping out from behind picture frames. Flowering in

late autumn with fruits developing in winter, this is another invaluable wildlife attracting plant which is sadly persecuted in our gardens due to misapprehension over whether it will bring the house down like the similarly green incredible hulk but modern brickwork will not be damaged. If you can’t bring yourself to tolerate the native form there are a number of cultivated forms which are brightly coloured and are ideal for covering ugly block work on garages and walls. Hedera helix ‘Glacier’ and ‘Goldheart’ are both fine examples.

Once established, it soon attracts nesting birds such as robins and wrens while blackbirds and wood pigeons love to eat the berries in the depths of winter. The Persian Ivy Hedera colchicum has larger leaves and is faster growing being ideal to turn chain link fencing into a narrow, low maintenance hedge.

Winter flowering plants stand out by the flamboyance and the sheer beauty of their unseasonal flowers.

Fragrance advertises their presence to what few pollinators are around so give them a prominent spot in the garden near to doorways and pathways.

Christmas box, (Sarcocca confusa) is an essential plant being small,

tough and shade tolerant, it will reliably bear small fragrant flowers in time for Christmas. Christmas rose,(Helleborus niger) on the other hand in spite of its name, usually waits until January or February before revealing pure white flowers much loved by bees. Mahonia japonica ‘Charity’ is a large holly like shrub which benefits from a profusion of small, scented yellow flowers from December to January which are especially useful to any early flying insects which have emerged prematurely from hibernation, confused by the occasional sunny spring-like day. By planting a variety of winter interest shrubs in the garden and allowing them to reach a good size you will never be short of material to cut for the house at Christmas, either to provide foliage or blooms on bare branches.

Viburnum bodnatense ‘Dawn’ and shrubby honeysuckle, Lonicera purpusii ‘Winter Beauty’ are useful in this regard and will fragrance the room with a heady perfume which cannot be matched by the noxious fumes emanating from plug-in scent dispensers, more appropriate to a public convenience than a homely yuletide residence.

Kevin Revell is Plant Area Manager at Caerphilly Garden Centre and is a Llandaff North resident

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Readers’ Stories

A Chr istmas Story

by Eric Fletcher

“Press 8 to speak to Jeremiah.

Thank you. Please wait until an operator becomes available. For security reasons your call may be recorded and used for training purposes.”

The voice cut out to be replaced by music, people singing.

The Reverend Thomas, Church in Wales minister recognised it.

Hymn 342.

The light of the morning is breaking.

The shadows are passing away.

The nations of earth are awakening...

And, as if on cue, he stirred and slowly began the journey from night to day, his mind slowly separating dreams from reality. He turned over and felt for the bedside clock. It was still early but today needed early.

Wednesday, midweek, 8 am Communion.

Gradually the doubts began to re-surface. What was the point?

Even though it was Christmas week, there would be only three or four, certainly not more than half a dozen at the morning service.

If only he could talk directly to his Creator, a face to face chat over a cup of tea or, at least, a direct telephone link. Ask pertinent questions, find answers to dispel those growing doubts.

Maybe if one of the feral pigeons that caused so much mess in his Church tower turned out to be white, dove size and carrying an olive branch, some of his misgivings would take wings and disappear.

And so the nightly dreams began, sometimes fleetingly,

often in great detail. Usually in the light of dawn, he could recall with great clarity every aspect.

They always followed the same set pattern. He would dial the number and a recorded voice would answer.

“Which God do you need to talk to? Please choose your preferred religion.”

“Press 1 for………”

“Press 2 for………” and so it went on. Surely there was only one God, only one true faith.

“Press 4 for Christianity.”

The Rev Thomas did so. The disembodied voice continued.

“Please press 1 to speak to an Archangel.”

“Press 2 to speak to an Angel.”

“Press 3 for a Seraphim.”

“Press 4 if you need to talk with a member of one of the other five orders of Angels.”

“Press 5 for direct link to Disciples.”

He pressed 5 .And so it continued.

“Press 1 for Matthew.”

“Press 2 for Mark.”

“Press 3 for Luke.”

“Press 4 for John.”

“The lower the number, the more popular the Disciple and as a consequence, the longer the wait the caller will experience. Press hash key to continue selection.” He did.

“Press 1 to speak to a Prophet.”

He pressed 8 which the recorded voice told him would connect him to Jeremiah, his favourite Prophet. The voice continued. “You are in a queue. Please be patient. In the meantime here is some appropriate music.” More hymns.

He thought he was getting to the front of the queue when they

played Nearer My God To Thee.

But no, the recorded voice which had taken on a less patient, more tired tone announced: “Sorry the lines are exceptionally busy tonight.

Please try again later.”

In his dream, the Rev. Thomas angrily replaced the receiver.

The next night, the same dream, but this time he got through to Jeremiah without too much delay. Christmas was only four days away, perhaps people were more intent on shopping, queuing at Tesco, less on spiritual matters. He was surprised to find that Jeremiah spoke with an Indian accent, he had expected something more eastern, more sort of Jewish. The voice, recorded again he thought, explained he was finishing his shift and because of that he would put the caller straight through to God. The Rev Thomas held his breath, the telephone made a clicking noise. Then nothing. Just complete and utter silence.

He waited. After a few minutes another clicking noise, another Indian voice. “Perhaps the caller would prefer to visit our web site at www. godisinhisheaven/celestial” The Rev Thomas stirred, barely awake he felt for his bedside light, found a biro and made a note of the web address. He paused, looked closely at what he had written then tore the paper into little pieces. No way was he getting involved in anything that had a lower case ‘g’ for God. That was never right.

Eric Flectcher

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local history

The Battle of the Butchers

by Gareth Neale The Battle of Hastings in 1066 started the Norman Conquest but the conquest of the part of Glamorgan by the Normans of which now includes Rhiwbina took another 27 years.

By 1081, the Vale of Glamorgan from the coast to Cowbridge had been captured by Robert Fitzhammon, Lord of Gloucester.

In that year, he built the keep of Cardiff Castle. But the Great Heath, Mynydd Bychan, together with the rest of Glamorgan, remained in the hands of Iestyn the Welsh Lord of Glamorgan.

Then, and even up to the middle of the 1700s, the whole area north of what is now Cathays Cemetery, from the River Taff to the River Rhymney, was rough open ground with occasional farms. This was Mynydd Bychan, which is, of course, still the Welsh name for the Heath area of Cardiff.

In the years after 1082, Iestyn and his men constantly attacked the Normans. Robert decided to remove Iestyn and seize his territory. Iestyn had promised the hand of his daughter Nest to his cousin Einon but he broke that promise. Einon turned to Robert Fitzhammon to revenge Iestyn’s betrayal and they agreed to join forces to overthrow Iestyn. As a reward he would have a share of Iestyn’s territory which, until the arrival of the Normans, had covered the whole of South Wales from Cardiff to beyond Swansea.

In 1093, Robert and Einon marched on Iestyn and the result

was what the Chronicles called ‘The Battle of Mynydd Bychan’.

But the actual site of the battle was an area known as ‘Butchers Fields’. The open area to the north of All Saints Church is now all that is left of it, but it was a huge open space each side of the stream.

Robert cleverly suggested that Einon’s men should form the front of the attack and in the very fierce battle, Einon’s men were decimated by Iestyn’s forces.

Einon survived and was later rewarded by Robert with a Lordship, west of Swansea, evidenced by the village of Port Eynon on the Gower.

However, Iestyn’s men were no match for the heavily armed Normans and they were killed in their hundreds. Iestyn’s fate is less clear. He may have fled and taken refuge in the Monastery at Whitchurch. More likely is that he was killed.

The dead and wounded, it is said, shed so much blood that the stream running through the field of battle turned red with their blood, and became known as the Nant y Waedlwyd (the Bloody Brook).

The ford where a road crossed it near what is now the end of Beulah Road became known

as the Rhyd y Waedwlyd (the Bloody Ford) It is said that over half of all the men who took part in the battle were killed and that, as burying them was not practical, they were piled up and covered with earth and rocks forming the Tympath.

However, archaeological excavations on the site in the late 1800s disprove this as a myth.

The Tympath was probably a small motte (a mound upon which a small fort could be erected), from which a Norman occupying force could prevent future incursions.

Rhiwbina streams run red from the hills to the north that contains large deposits of Red Marl. In heavy rains, even today, these give the water a reddish brown tinge. So maybe in reality it was not just the blood of the battle that gave the stream its ‘bloody’ name. But that battle certainly did take place right here in the middle of Rhiwbina in 1093.

Growing up in the Fifties and Sixties: My memories of Whitchurch and Llandaff by Terry Chard I was born in 1952 and have fond memories of my youth. Apart from spending a few years in Tongwynlais (Ironbridge Rd) after I got married and working abroad for a few years, I have spent my life in Whitchurch. It has always been home.

I was born and bred in on the Ty Newydd estate just behind the Three Elms. I was born at home, as was my brother in 1956.

My birth certificate is stamped Caerphilly Urban District. My parents moved here when the estate opened as a council estate probably at the beginning of 1952. Prior to that, they had lived in rented rooms at Great House near the Mellingruffydd. They had moved there when they got married after the Second World War. My older brother was born there in 1951.

Both my parents are Llandaff North people, my father from Llandaff Yard, bottom end of College Road and my mother from West Road.

My early memories take me back to street football, king ball, chain touch and rat tat ginger. Dark winter nights kicking a ball around under street lamps on an open piece of ground. The lads knocking on my door to see if I could come out to play and me praying that my Mam would say yes. I remember going home covered in mud and dog crap for a telling off and I probably never touched the ball because there were some many of us crammed onto such a small area of grass.

We later progressed to playing on the road, Saturday morning Cup Finals with a lamppost and kerb as a goal at one end and a drain and kerb for a goal at the other end. Garden hedges acted as the touchline. In those days we adopted the names of Allchurch, Tapscott, Charles, Medwin and strangely

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enough, Ferenc Puskas because somebody had read about him and he had beaten England singlehanded in 1953.

All sorts of skills were developed and honed on the streets and half time came when a car passed. In those days, a two hour run out would only ever be interrupted by a car or two. As car ownership became more and more popular, we were forced to relocate our pitch away from the road onto the green outside Ty Nant flats. A solitary tree acted as a goal post. We had some major football epics and always longed for having real nets to score into.

Our playground in those days was the derelict farm on College Road on the Whitchurch side of the railway line close to The Crown.

We lived in Maes Glas and the garden backed onto the corner of the ploughed field. In the early days it was a working farm. I remember my father, a very keen gardener, suddenly rushing out of the living room to the back garden to scare off the pigs that had escaped from the field and were busy eating the vegetables that he had nurtured and cultivated for our season’s supply.

We later moved across the road because the garden was bigger (c.

1962). The farm became derelict in the late 1950s early 1960s and was later built on to provide the newer houses that make up the centre of Felin Fach. I have lots of good memories of that field. It was the place that the old farmhouse became our den and we played a substantial part in its demolition.

The field provided us with a place for football and cricket with homemade bats and wickets. Lost ball was a ‘6’. We built dens from the corrugated ‘tin sheetings’ recycled from the old farm buildings and had campfires where we baked potatoes on the end of a stick. Bird

nesting and blowing eggs was a science. We melted lead off the farmhouse roof and poured it into the ‘frog’ of a house brick to make ingots. We picked blackberries and what your mam didn’t need, we would sell door-to-door to earn a few pennies.

We passed the time playing ‘stretch’ and could handle penknives like circus performers.

The bottom field close to the railway was the pig field, ‘Queeny’s Field’. Queeny was the white shire horse that pulled the hand-held plough and she occupied the field with half a dozen pigsties. Queeny was often seen on the ash path and as kids we often went to see her. On occasions, we jumped on her back and rode her up and down the ash path with maybe four or five of us on her back. (We were only five or six years old at the time before any animal rights campaigners curl up in horror). She was docile and pliant, one of the gang.

When the farm was abandoned, we used the slopes of the bottom field as a slide. The side nearest The Crown was the best because it offered the longest and steepest slope. The tin sheetings were used as toboggans with an upturned front. Both the underside of the sheets and the slope surface themselves became polished and slippery with a hard summer’s use. The field itself however had a darker side to it. It was the site of many a conflict with the ‘Llandaffs’.

The tin sheetings on these occasions made useful barricades as a stone battle ensued across the railway line. I recall on occasions that even the artillery were called up as reinforcements on both sides as catapults, air guns and air rifles were deployed. The brick works was located just behind The Crown in those days and would’ve provided the enemy with a constant supply of

ammunition. The original ‘fatwah’ originated here and I often see the ageing enemy now and laugh at having avoided injury or, worse still, capture. Queeny’s Field is now the site of Limebourne Court.

This wasn’t the only farm in the area. Just north of this was ‘Stokes’s Farm’, Little Mill (Felin Fach). It was a smaller farm in comparison occupied by the Stokes family. It was a white-washed, stone cottage with a thatched roof and a ‘lean to’ barn to the side. The two farms were separated by an ash path and Stokes farm had a rough drive leading to it. The mill stones could still be seen when we were kids and were located close to the railway line where the ash path broke out into a series of steps. My mother (89 at the time of writing) remembers the farm as a working mill when she was a little girl. The mill was probably therefore working in the 1920s. An 1896 map of the area shows it operated by a stream (the Mill Race) running as a tributary from Whitchurch brook.

For us kids Stokes’s farm was less of an attractive proposition. The family was more territorial and protective and apart from taking the risk of nicking apples, it wasn’t the place to go. The ash path however provided a tactical route across the railway line for outflanking the ‘Llandaffs’ whenever battle was in full swing.

The farmer’s son had a motorbike that in its day was something of a high performance sports machine.

If my memory serves me right, the machine was the cause of a major incident when it caught fire and eventually burnt down the barn and the thatch on the farmhouse (approx 1959/60). As kids, we stood on the ash path and watched it go up as the local fire station dealt with the situation. The houses on Little Mill now occupy the site.

Another farm close by was the one next door to the Mason’s Arms on the corner of Manor Way and Tyny-Parc Road. A good one for apple scrumping because the orchard was close to the fence and made for an easy getaway if you were seen.

Towards the end of its days it was used to store caravans over winter.

Eglwys Wen was our infants and junior school, a stone’s throw from where we lived. It stood in the shadow of ‘the Big Trees’, a major landmark of its day and one which

gave pride and identity to the locals in the same way that Bow Bells does for a cockney. For some strange reason, I always remember the sound of the air raid siren from Whitchurch Police Station being tested on a regular basis whenever I think back at my early school days.

As far as I recall, the air raid siren was tested throughout the ‘50s and possibly early ‘60s. In a twist of fate, I later came across my form teacher of many years, Mr Ivor Broad, then headmaster of my daughters’ school at Coryton Junior.

Fred Stansfield, a retired professional footballer and Cardiff City captain owned the sweetshop at the Ty Newydd flats. There was a greengrocers (Fletcher’s), a butchers (Fawcett’s) and a grocers (Jenkins) alongside. Grocery deliveries (cans, cereals, flour, sugar etc) were made

by Vince who would just enter the house via the backdoor and place a box of goods in the kitchen, half the time without being seen or heard.

All ‘on the slate’ paid at the end of the week. Milk was delivered from the back of a battery operated milk float which we used to jump on for a ride up the road. ‘Pip’ the baker delivered the bread. Now and again, a mobile chip van came around the streets during winter. Some Friday nights, the butcher would make hot faggots and peas to sell and that’s where I was off with my Mam when Kennedy got shot.

The rag and bone man was another regular visitor. “China for old rags” was his call. We all harmonised to the tune of ‘Steptoe and Son’ as he wandered the streets on his horse and cart. He was friendly enough but never gave any ‘freebies’.

Any droppings from the horse were scooped up by the quickest neighbour, for the garden.

The area was also commonly known as the Polo Ground. My parents often reminisced about the ‘old days’ watching the polo.

My father uncovered one or two horseshoes while digging the back garden. I’m also told that Glamorgan Wanderers RFC also used the ground in their early days and used the Three Elms as a clubhouse.

The Wenallt was a place for a day out particularly on school holidays. A bottle of water and some sandwiches neatly packed into a

memories

duffle bag would see us off for the day. On some occasions, we would light a campfire and warm up some baked beans when we got there.

The Wenallt always had a mystique about it for me and try as I might I have had little success finding out anything about the stone remains on the slopes close to its summit.

If we were feeling particularly adventurous then Roath Park was our destination but it didn’t happen too often mainly because of distance and the fact that it’s a boring walk no matter how old you are.

The village was the central shopping area for local people. No super stores or even supermarkets in the early days. Nothing in cling film, no frozen packs of microwave food and no takeaway curries.

The only ‘chippie’ was Victoria in Old Church Road for a ‘six a’chips’ and a Clarkies. In those days, the shopping area on the west side of the road was dispersed with rows of terraced houses. A furniture shop was located where the bed shop is now and between there and The Plough was all that the village offered by way of shops on the east side. Not that it’s any bigger now. I kicked and struggled at the barbers opposite The Malsters while sitting on a wood plank placed on the arms of the barber’s chair. I hated having my hair cut. It was only when that plank wasn’t needed anymore that you realised that you were growing up. The post office was at the village end of Bishops Road and next door to that was the clinic where childhood inoculations took place to the overwhelming aroma of methylated spirits. I remember Parkman’s sweetshop and his toothless smile. The village toy shop was located at the bus stop (west) and that’s where, in the early ‘60s, I spent my pocket money, on little Airfix models of aeroplanes for 1/6d (7½p). The Bon Marché (opposite Boots) supplied clothing and had a unique vacuum system for handling cash payments. A grocers was located where Bird’s is now and was particularly memorable because they had boxes of biscuits sold by weight in brown paper bags.

My mother always bought a bag of broken biscuits as a treat and that way we had a choice of different ones to choose from when we got home.

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IF YOU HAVE ANY PET-RELATED QUESTIONS THAT YOU WOULD LIKE CHRIS TO ANSWER, PLEASE EMAIL US AT EDITOR@LIVINGMAGS.CO.UK AND WE’LL PASS THEM ON.

Are there any dangers to cats around the house at Christmas? I’m always worried that my cat will chew on the Christmas lights and electrocute herself. I’m also worried about her eating things she shouldn’t!

There are many potential dangers in the home for pets at Christmas; fortunately most cats are too sensible to come to any harm, but there are a few areas to look out for.

You’ve mentioned the Christmas lights, and they could potentially injure her if she chose to chew the wires – but why should she? Does she chew other electric cables? If so, you are right to be concerned, but chewing wires is usually a puppy’s or a house-rabbit’s mischief rather than a cat’s. Make use a low-voltage set of lights to minimise the risk, and tape down or hide the wires to reduce their attractiveness.

You need to make sure that your Christmas tree is stable so that if the cat decides to climb it (and why wouldn’t she – it’s just a tree!) it doesn’t come crashing down on your best ornaments.

If you have a live tree standing in water, to reduce the needle drop, make sure the water is not accessible as resins from the tree could make it toxic; the needles are also dangerous if eaten, so hoover them up regularly. Tinsel should be out of her reach as it is interesting and she may try to play with it; if she ate it, the long strands could cause an obstruction. Artificial snow is toxic to cats, so don’t use it anywhere she could lick it.

There are several plants particularly associated with Christmas which are poisonous to cats, including poinsettias, mistletoe and holly. Keep them out of the way and make sure you pick up any fallen berries or leaves. Don’t forget how poisonous lily pollen is, so pick off the stamens to eliminate the risk of it getting on your cat.

Are you able to give me advice about my dog who does not stop barking? He’s two years old and I’m worried that the neighbours are going to get annoyed while I’m out of the house at work.

Dogs barking when left alone in the house are a major cause of neighbour disputes and complaints, so you are right to be worried. The cause needs to be established before you can try to correct it, and there are several possible reasons. Is he warning off potential intruders from approaching his den – including postmen, passers-by, even traffic in the street? More likely, he is worried because you aren’t there to protect him, and is suffering from “separation anxiety”, a well-recognised canine psychological problem. This is a complex area, and potentially quite a serious problem, so I would recommend you get professional help from a wellqualified dog behaviourist to sort it out before you have a visit from the Council noise enforcement police - ask your vet to recommend one. There are a number of products available to help, such as Adaptil, Zylkene, pressure vests etc, but these rarely are sufficient without behaviour therapy as well, so I am reluctant to advise you to try them alone.

My dog has a split nail, right the way down to the paw. Should I get him seen to or do you think it will clear up on its own?.

Unfortunately, this sort of split rarely heals unaided, because every time the nail takes weight, the split is reopened. Infection frequently results from the dirt and licking. It is likely that the nail will need to be removed, so take your dog to your vet and get it sorted out quickly.

If the nail does have to be removed, it will slowly regrow and in a few months you won’t know anything had happened.

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Readers’ Stories

The Sunday Night Audit

by Elizabeth Cunningham

My grandfather was so sure that this was the answer to her evergrowing problem, the funding of her ‘little flutters’, a description she vehemently contradicted.

“You mean my sporting interests?” she would retort, daring us to say otherwise. She thought it necessary to convince us, that these ‘interests’ were not an addiction. No. It was her love of horses, inherited from her father, which prompted these little wagers. Charitably, we never reminded her that her father’s passion for horses resulted in his compulsive gambling which took away their family home, the gracious manor with its beautiful antique furnishings and the adjoining coach house. There was also a well-stocked farm attached.

I still have the auction catalogue dated Wednesday 15th March 1893.

Gran’s father also owned a public house called “The White Hart” which also had to go under the hammer. The public house is still standing in the family home, then a village, in Faringdon, Berkshire.

Gran’s instructions on the telephone at the end of the passage, to the local betting shop where she had an account, unknown to my grandfather, were always with the same request - the jockey always had to be Gordon Richards. She was very successful in ensuring my grandfather’s total ignorance of her ‘sporting interests’ by her careful timing, which was always when he was tending to the horses in the stable at the back of the dairy.

Well, Gran’s solution to her dilemma, which at present is financed by her prudent handling of the housekeeping money, was to be to open a little shop, which could be built at the side of the dairy (my grandfather was in the milk

business).

“It would be such a boon to the neighbours. Look how far they have to go now for their groceries - right down Corporation Road.”

After a few weeks of general enquiries and probing, my grandfather’s business acumen decided ‘yes’, a little shop could be a success. Generously, he told Gran that she could keep her profit and also suggested that she could sell cream, which he would supply, as the dairy cold-stores would be available for storage. The erection of the shop was entrusted to a local building firm, who were very glad of the business, this being the early 1930s when the recession was still overshadowing Britain and unemployment a major concern.

So Manor Farm Dairy Shop was born.

Came the first Sunday night and the checking of the shop’s takings.

The first inkling we had of any discord was from my mother.

She had heard my grandfather’s agonised groans as she passed through the passage.

“Bessie. The credit book is full and the till empty.”

My grandfather needed an explanation, rightly so, and was only slightly pacified by Gran assuring him that all bills would be paid the coming week. Her faith in the neighbours was a little optimistic though, when the following Sunday night, the accounts ledger showed the same picture. Nil money taken and the credit section full.

We heard from our vantage point in the passage: “Who the hell is the lady with the little black dog, a quarter of Typhoo tea?” Then my grandfather demanding “Bessie. D’you know who the devil this person is...the

lady who always comes in lunch times - a tin of corned beef?”

My grandfather must have been nearing foaming of the mouth stage, when we heard Gran, as if soothing a fractious child explain.

“It’s alright Will. I know her. She’s a friend of that little old lady who wears a grey hat and buys a tin of salmon for her cat.”

There was worse to come for my grandfather.

“The cream money. There’s only a few shillings here.”

“Ah Will.” Triumphant now, Gran told him “I’ve saved you a lot of money. You need not buy any more cartons. Customers bring their own jugs.”

My grandfather’s roars must have been heard down the end of the street as he bellowed: “Saved? What the hell are you talking about? I’ve seen those old biddies knocking on the door on a Sunday afternoon with their pint jugs. You must have filled them for their bloody sixpunneth.”

The little shop had such a short life. The cream fiasco was a deathknell. My grandfather sold the stock to a local grocer and it became my father’s office. Strangely enough, Gran was not as upset as we thought she would be. It was her conversation with Mrs Ashton in the local bakery, who gave her that glint in the eye, when she heard of the wonderful wine you can make from parsnips. She had been very encouraging: “I’m sure that they will sell like hot cakes and that nice barman in the ‘Bird’ would give you bottles.”

Gran was convinced now, and full of enthusiasm, sought out Doris Jenkins, our local librarian for information on wine-making.

27

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recipes

Christmas Eve Supper

‘ Gather around the table, or have ‘plates on laps’ in front of the fire for these festive treats

CHEESY BEEF BURGERS

Ingredients: 1 red onion, finely chopped 500g (18oz) extra lean beef mince 2tbsp sun-dried tomato paste 4tbsp chopped parsley 1 garlic clove, crushed 75g (3oz) Cheddar, cut into four thin chunks To serve: 4 large wholemeal baps 1/2 small red onion, sliced 3tbsp mayonnaise Method 1. Place the onion in a large bowl with all the remaining ingredients, except the cheese. Season with plenty of salt and freshly ground black pepper and stir until well combined. It’s a lot easier to use your hands to squidge all the ingredients together.

2. Shape the mix into 4 fat burgers and push a chunk of cheese into the centre of each one, make sure the cheese is covered.

3. Preheat grill to medium and cook for 15 mins, turning now and then until cooked through.

Put the burgers in toasted baps and top with red onion and mayo. Serve with salad and potato wedges. Yummy!

ORANGE AND CINNAMON MINCE PIES Ingredients: 375g shortcrust pastry 250g good quality mincemeat 50g plain flour 4 tbsp demerara sugar 40g butter finely grated zest of ½ orange 1 tsp ground cinnamon

Method 1. Pre-heat the oven to 200ºC/400ºF/Gas Mark 6.

Thinly roll out the pastry and using a 7.5-9cm pastry cutter, cut out as many disks as you can, rerolling the trimmings as you go. Press the disks into the holes of one or two 12 hole patty tins.

2. Spoon a couple of teaspoons of mincemeat into each pastry case and set aside.

3. To make the crumble topping, rub together the flour, demerara sugar, butter, orange zest and cinnamon until you have a chunky crumble mixture. Scatter over the top of the mincemeat and place in the oven for around 15 minutes or until the mince pies are golden and the tops are crisp.

4. Remove from the oven and leave to cool for a few minutes before taking out of the tins. Cool on a wire rack and dust with icing sugar to serve.

PATRIC MORGAN

BOARD GAMES, BEER AND A BING CROSBY CD

Christmas Day 1993 It wasn’t very often that our large family would be in one place at one time so we always looked forward to Christmas Day evenings at our house. As kids, it was the only time of year we got to see our aunties and uncles drunk which we found amusing. It also meant that us kids seemed to have more authority. Alice, our little baby sister was tucked up safely far away in the back bedroom of the house. We’d occasionally hear her stir on the baby monitor we had on the mantelpiece and the room full of people would fall silent for a moment.

“Shhhh. Baby monitor!!!” said Mum sternly. We all fell silent and watched the monitor. No idea what we were expecting to see.

“Ok. All clear.” said Mum after hearing Alice settle herself down.

The party resumed.

We’d had two board games the previous Christmas. One was called Brit Quiz and the other was called Dare. Brit Quiz always came first before Dare was cracked open after a few beers.

One of my brother’s friends, James was hammered before 6pm. He was around 19 and always seemed to be drunk. We’d often see him down the Friars night-club down at Barry Island, off his face and curled up asleep in a ball in the middle of the dance floor.

“I’ve got a Bing Crosby Christmas CD in the glove compartment of my car! I’ll just go and get it!” he mumbled before falling out of the patio doors, never to be seen again.

It was one less drunk for Dad to worry about. He hated people in his house.

My brother Dylan picked up a Dare forefeit card and read it out.

“Right! Brian! You need to do 50 press-ups.” Dylan had lied of course.

The card’s instructions were to do ten press-ups but Dylan knew that Brian, who at around 5’3 and rather

round, would struggle.

“On your knuckles!” added Dylan.

The kids were in charge tonight.

“Right! I’m there! I’m Brian the Lion - strong as iron!” shouted Brian before rolling up his sleeves and getting down on his hands and knees. We all counted out the press-ups while Brian got going. By seven, his face was turning red and a ring of sweat was rising up his paper Christmas hat.

“8.9.10.” Brian started trembling and growling.

“Come on Brian! We need these points!”

“11.12.13...”

Brian’s eyes were popping. His brown Clarks loafers curled up every time he lowered his heavy frame to the carpet.

“He’s going to have a heart attack!” someone cried.

“Come on Brian you big girl!” came another voice. “Come on!!!!!”

Despite all his shaking and sweating, Brian incredibly managed to get to 40 and was still going. His red-raw knuckles were buckling and cracking.

“Come on Brian!! Only ten more left!” Dylan, realising that Brian had defied his instructions, stood up.

“I forgot to say,” he said, holding up the card “...with someone on your back!” And with that, Dylan jumped on Brian’s back.

“Yay!” cried Dylan, sat astride the fallen beast “Another failure! I’m off to get a drink!”

Dylan was enjoying his evening.

He headed to the empty kitchen to see what he could drink and get away with while all the grown-ups were drunk. The kitchen table was strewn with empty beer cans, some used as ash-trays, half-empty wine bottles and plastic six-pack rings.

The fridge offered up nothing of interest so Dylan quietly climbed the stairs and tip-toed down the long passage towards the back bedroom where Alice lay sleeping.

He knew that Dad had a secret stash of beer hiding under Alice’s cot.

The door creaked open.

“Sssssh!” said Dad. He was already there, sat on the floor, enjoying a sneaky warm Spar Pilsner lager.

“Got any beer?”

Dad exploded as quietly as he could.

“For God’s sake! You as well? I’m sick of people coming to my house, eating my food, drinking my beer.”

Downstairs, Mum shushed the crowd in the living room, waiting for their Master of Ceremonies to return.

“Shhhh. Baby monitor!!!” The noise subsided to a hush. We could hear Dad and Dylan talking.

We all sat there, listening to the conversation that was taking place

far away in the back bedroom of the house.

“I only want the one can.” said Dylan.

“Greedy sods the lot of them. All I wanted was a quiet Christmas. All my food’s gone, my drink’s gone.

That’s why I’ve had to put a secret slab here under the bed. Why can’t they all just clear off and leave me to my own house?”

Us kids watched as our aunties and uncles sat heads down, peering into their flat beer. Brian took off his damp Christmas hat and stuffed it into the pocket of his tweed jacket.

Within a couple of minutes, they’d all put their coats on and headed out into the cold Christmas night.

Dad was up early the next morning, slugging out the bins full of empty cans and bottles. He hadn’t meant to cause offence and he protested his innocence to Mum as he struggled down the garden path with the heavy bags.

“I was only joking.” he said “I knew they’d all be able to hear me!” But Mum didn’t buy it.

As he passed James’s car, he placed his bags on the floor and peered in.

James was sat in the passenger seat, head bowed asleep, and with his hand still in his glove compartment, clutching a Bing Crosby CD.

31

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