where art collides philosoperontap

Just ordered A History of Wales, 1660-1815 by ED Evans. It was referred to at the end of the chapter on primary sources in The People of Seion and figured it was in the sweet spot for my continued research into the family tree. One of the primary sources referred to was The Religious Census of 1851 which coincidentally I took delivery of just before Christmas. Happy days.

THG mentioned the ED Evans was v niche but I replied that it wasn’t nearly as niche as The Welsh Methodist Society: The Early Societies in South-west Wales 1737-1750 which as you can imagine was an interesting read.

Being of Baptist extraction I’m not specifically interested in the Methodists. Just with the general dissatisfaction in the way the established church was run and how it led to the formation of dissenting alternatives, which is where I come in.

Had a couple of breakthroughs yesterday in the ole research. I’ve been trying to trace the footsteps of various ancestors using the Census but google provides no data on some of the places they lived. The answer is old OS maps. In the nineteenth century they specifically named farms and mills. After some poring over different maps and correlating what I’ve found with the names of surrounding properties in the census I’ve been able to identify some of the places. Even got modern street view images of the name of the place at the farm gate. Before registering the usefulness of old maps I was virtually “walking” the roads in areas hoping to find clues as to place names.

I found one former mill that is in the census as Glandwr but on the map as Lan Dwr. A streetview zoom showed a stone embedded in the otherwise whitewashed wall with LD1776 on it. Glandwr and LD1776 are without doubt the same place.

Some places still remain hidden, I suspect no longer there, as might be the case with the “woollen factory” building in the map shown. I think places like this will involve actual visits and walking the ground which will have to wait until after the hip op. Still, it’s progress. I’m planning to spend a week touring all these locations sometime in 2025.

Anyway enough of this talk about old things. Today is New Year’s Eve and will involve looking ahead to new things. Hope you have a good one.

I feel a period of monastic austerity approaching. After the rampant hedonism and over consumption of December the body, as is normal for this time of year, is saying no, Tref, enough is enough. It will help that all the nice Quality Street chocs were eaten some time ago and I’m about out of tonic water making the surprise presence of gin left in the bottle quite superfluous.

I have a pile of Michael Mosley Fast 800 recipe books on the desk beside me and will shortly be compiling some menus for consumption over the next week or two. There are some outliers. We are off out on the lash early doors New Years Eve and then there’s the lunch at the rugby club on Saturday but other than that there is a clear run of healthy eating until my sister Sue’s birthday bash on the weekend of the 11th Jan.

In the meantime I have a proposition to make. A prize giveaway. The first person to post a genuine photo of Easter eggs in a supermarket either in my timeline or as a comment in this post will be the winner. You need to be honest to yourself. No digging out photos from last year please. I won’t be checking because I trust you but others might.

The prize is a fantastic pair of tropical trefbash tiki cans left over from the night plus some custom trefbash beermats that the club forgot to put out. These are v limited edition. No more will be printed, ever!

Thassit. I have menus to compile. Ciao bebes

It isn’t New Years Eve yet but the media is pushing out 2024 retrospectives. Maybe they use NYE to look ahead. I did start writing some stuff about the highlights of 2024 but decided not to publish. You will have seen them here as they happened anyway. Time to move on and look forward to an exciting 2025.

The biggest change I always need to get my brain around is the fact that it will be 2025 not 2024. An irreversible change. I guess we could extend 2024 to having an infinite number of days but that would truly mess things up. 

Think of calendars already printed and online. The chaos would be tremendous. We would need to invent new months. The change would need to be planned well ahead of time and would inevitably cause rows as people would have different opinions on the subject. Worse even than Brexshit.

On balance I think my vote goes to keeping the system as it is and just changing the number to 2025. It’s a good enough number anyway. I’ll leave it at that.

Feast of the Holy Innocents today. This is one of the most popular and entertaining Christmas traditions in Spain. December 28 is the day when everyone is allowed to play practical jokes and when it is customary to buy prank items at Christmas markets like the one in the Plaza Mayor in Madrid. Not here. Anyway Lincoln council pulled the plug on the Christmas market, miserable gits.

The spiel about Spain came from the country’s official tourist website. Came up number one in search results. A bit strange. All the other sites majored on King Herod massacring babies which is v gory but highly relevant. I think I prefer the Spanish attitude to the day.

No feasting here. Don’t think it’s appropriate plus we’ve had enough food to last us a while. We can now go into hibernation in the happy knowledge that we have enough bodily reserves to last until the snows start to melt.

Coincidentally, ish, it’s the pope doing thought for the day on’t wireless. I guess they line up their top attractions over the festive season. Trying to take advantage of the mood of the moment by fielding big hitters. I would. Get the message across while people are still receptive. Suitably boring delivery mind you with a voice over in English. Tuning out. All you need is love ❤️. 

I am downstairs in the snug. THG is in the kitchen having an early breakfast before doing the park run, fair play. Still a bit misty out there but as long as you can see the person in front of you you should make it around the circuit.

After yesterday’s start the process of emptying the house of offspring continues today as another leaves for home. This time Berlin. In my mind it will be cold there with icy winds blowing across from the east. Shutting my eyes I can hear the sound of jackboots ringing out across no mans land and a shout as someone is spotted trying to escape. 

Not like that anymore obvs. That’s just an influence from a childhood growing up during the cold war. The Spy Who Came In From The Cold. Stuff like that. When we moved to the Isle of Man dad, as a senior civil servant, was offered a place in the nuclear bunker there. Told em to stuff it. 

I remember one evening standing in our front garden hearing the wail of a siren coming from Douglas three miles away. Dad and I looked at each other wondering whether that was the three minute warning (or however many minutes it was supposed to be). Turned out to be the signal for the Douglas lifeboat to go out. 

We don’t want to get back to those days do we? Nostalgia doesn’t apply.

Today I start to throttle back on the feasting, as I said. This does have to be a controlled throttling back. You can’t just go from full on feasting to totes austerity and dieting in one day. It would be like falling off a cliff. There are some planned feasts that will be difficult to avoid. New Year’s Eve for one plus the lunch at the rugby club on 4th Jan. 

I guess I could drive to the rugby club but the temptations will be great and manifold and peer group pressure needs adding into the mix. Also the last time I drove to watch the rugby I got done for speeding on Bunkers Hill. 35mph. Bar stewards. 

Not really a New Years Eve fan but our pals get together mid pm in the White Hart to avoid the rush and have a meal at six. Means we can be home in plenty of time for an early night and avoid the false bonhomie that comes out every year on that evening. Should be in bed by ten as usual. Phone will be on silent so don’t bother ringing. Bah humbug.

St John The Evangelist’s big day d’aujourd’hui. I only know because last year I was watching some programme about how they celebrated Christmas in mediaeval times and a number of saints were feasted so to speak. Looked em up and inserted the dates in my calendar in perpetuity. Long after I am gone there will be calendar reminders to that effect (those effects?).

Doubt whether St John spoke French. Otherwise he might have been a St Jean which he aint, afaik. Might be in France I suppose. They have a mind of their own. Only apostle not to be martyred apaz. Side stepped that one. Probs saw it coming before the others and arranged to be out at the shops or similar when the Roman soldiers rocked up at the gaff where they were all staying. Just a lucky happenstance.

Tonight we will be celebrating ole St John’s feast with a bit of salad. Had enough big meals to do me at least until tomorrow 🙂 We do have a lot of stuff to eat up. Mind you I am considering having a full English to break the fast. Believe it or not I’ve avoided one up until now over this holiday period. Even Christmas Day. See how I feel in thirty mins or so. No rush. Defo avin half a grapefruit as well. Use my new grapefruit spoon innit.

Some FB pals (well one) has expressed a certain level of ignorance about the aforementioned John. I don’t feel inclined to help them out when they can easily google it, which is what I did in the first place. There’s a lot of stuff out there on tinterweb about Johnny boy, as you might imagine. Two thousand years of posting including some of his own stuff. I’m sure I found somewhere that his feast involves wine although I can’t seem to lay my hands on the source this morning. We still have a bottle or two of wine left so might raise a glass to the lad this evening. I’m sure there will be other takers if the suggestion is put to the table.

A miserable foggy day out. Despite this it would be worth going out for a walk were it not for the fact that I’m somewhat crippled right now and having a new hip in February. Just six weeks or so to wait. Over 100k people get it done in the uk every year (annually) apaz. That’s a lorra people. Since announcing the fact it’s amazing how many people have said they’ve had it done or they know someone who has. Enough of this hip talk.

I doubt St John ever encountered fog. Holy land is a bit warmer than the UK. Also references to snow are down to good King Wenceslas who as far as I am aware lived nowhere near the Middle East (Mid East if you are from across the pond). Don’t get much snow ere either. Do get fog though, as you know. In those days they didn’t have such a thing as replacement hips either. They wouldn’t have needed one anyway as JC and the gang were around to apply healing hands to any deserving cripple they came across.

Strange to think that the market for replacement hips, which is worth at least one and a half billion squid a year in the UK based on fifteen grand a pop, would not exist had there still been people around able to perform miracles. The art seems to have died out after the middle ages although the Catholic Church does still occasionally churn out a saint. I’m a bit sceptical of these newbie saints meself. Feels as if the church feels obliged to keep the tradition alive. They should be able to move on 🙂 .

As a Davies I am named after St David. In my part of the world (well in Carmarthenshire where my ancestors trod the sod) twenty five percent of the populace are Davieses. In the days before surnames sons were oft named after St David as might have been their fathers before. So David ap (son of) David morphed into David Davies’. Would more likely have been Dewi or Dafydd in Sir Gaerfyrddin where few people spoke the invasive English language that the church felt obliged to use to write down names.

I don’t feel particularly saintly otherwise I’d have fixed the hip meself. I can however fix breakfast which is what I am going to do now. Ciao amigos.

Kid 3 sets off for Caadiff today to spend time with his gf Lucy’s family. She is a lovely girl.

Lying in bed pondering the fact that I am still full from yesterday’s lunch and having had no supper. Didn’t even make the cheese course. Today’s repeat dinner has been put back until this evening. Toast and a bit of grapefruit for brekkie methinks. All subject to approval from the assembled masses who are all also still in bed. 

Gotta write out a birthday card for the heir. Momentous Christmas that was. THG went in to labour during the evening on Christmas Day. I had cooked lunch and subsequently fallen asleep on the sofa. When I woke up all the dishes had been washed, the house tidied and the process begun. 

Not sure we got much kip that night. Spent it noting times of contractions on a piece of paper by the bed.

By breakfast it was time to take her in to the hospital maternity wing which was just down the road from us. The rest is history.

Had that piece of paper with timings in the drawer of the bedside table for years but it is now lost. Birrofashame but not a biggie.

…

Now downstairs the kitchen is a hive of activity but no sign of any offspring. This is very much in contrast to the time when they were kids, particularly on Christmas Day itself. We’ve never got out of the habit of getting up early since then. It isn’t particularly early I guess. 8.30. Who knows what time the household will surface.

Today will likely be a day of sport. Armchair sport. Gone are the days of rocking up for the annual President v Chairman’s XV at the rugby club with a bottle of port at half time and a few pints afterwards before walking home to a repeat Christmas dinner. Was always a great atmosphere in the clubhouse for that game. The rugby club moved to Nettleham a few years ago anyway. No longer a walk.

Christmas Eve. I realise it’s stating the bleeding obvious but I wanted to get it out there. Reinforce the point, sort of thing. Get it off my chest. Not that I’ve been suppressing it and now I’ve said it feel an enormous sense of release. You will just have to accept it for what it is. Christmas Eve.

For some there will be the realisation that omg they haven’t bought the present yet. Not here son, not here (blows on fingernails and rubs against shirt). There have been ‘incidents’ in the past like the year we agreed not to buy each other presents but THG sneakily got me one but I hadn’t got her one. Aaaagh. We stopped that nonsense and get each other prezzies.

Doesn’t mean to say you can’t find that little extra. Sgonna depend to some extent on the traffic sitch. There has been a constant flow of cars into town. Must be chaos down there. Don’t like going downtown at the best of times. Was bad enough going to Waitrose yesterday.

There will almost certainly be something left until the last minute so that it stays fresh for tomorrow. Croissants for example. I realise they should ideally be eaten on the day of purchase but they are easily refreshed in the oven. More milk. There are seven of us in the house so the milk levels go down a lot more quickly than usual. Bound to be other stuff I’ve missed.

The veg prep mostly gets done today. That’s not my department although I am charged with doing the roast potatoes as I am the master of that particular dish. I don’t peel the spuds though.

I am also responsible for ensuring the meat arrives at the table on time and perfectly cooked. For the beef that means pink in the middle. No shoe leather in this house mate. There will be two different gravies: beef and turkey.

Moved to the laptop now. A much more productive instrument for writing.

The last minute shopping list at the moment looks like this:

Milk
Croissants and pan au choc
Sourdough
Birthday card for Tom (he isn’t on Facebook so I’m safe to discuss here)
Coffee grounds
Cocoa powder

If I add anything else I’ll let you know, obvs. Natch.

This afternoon follows a pattern. We typically end up in the pub for early doors but I’m going to make that call nearer the time. The kids will defo go. There will be some pressure on me to do the same but not sure I want to this year. December has been such a full on partying month and we still have to get through Christmas Day and The Feast of St Stephen. Then it’ll be the Feast of St John the Evangelist, Feast of the Holy Innocents, Commemoration of St. Thomas Becket. A couple of days break that incorporates New Year’s Eve so not really much of a break before we pile into the Feast of the Circumcision and the Forefeast of the Theophany (Epiphany). Wonder what they traditionally do on the Feast of the Circumcision? Saturday 4th Jan is lunch before the game at the rugby club and then the Sunday is Twelfth Night which is really when the serious austerity and dieting begins.

In the meantime I have to nip to the shops. Milk doesn’t just appear in the fridge by itself yanow.

Oh and Happy Christmas everyone. I hope all your dreams will come true and that you don’t forget me in your will 🙂

Meat run this morning. Hard to know when to go. There is going to be a queue. Ribs of beef, turkey breast or crown, back and streaky bacon and spicy Lincolnshire farmhouse sausages. Ham maybe. I like to cook a ham but we will already have a lot of food in. See how it goes.

Might go before breakfast. 

…

Meat run lasted the 3 mins it took to drive there and 3 mins back. Mahoosive queue around the corner and down the road towards the Dog and Duck and nowhere to park. I’ll go back later when I’ll be more amenable to queuing.

At home, pancakes are being prepared in the kitchen. Our John is short order chef for the day. I have requested a side of streaky bacon with mine. Maple syrup and berries. Fair play to him.

…

I must say the pancakes were great. A fresh pot of tea is now a brewing. The kitchen is getting busier. Busyness. Busy busy busy. 

…

At some stage I’m going to have to psych meself up to going to the butchers again. I’m afraid I’ll just have to queue. Finding a parking spot is more of an issue. Also have stuffing to finish off. Like to get some of these jobs done well in advance. Mind you tomorrow is Christmas Eve so it isn’t that far in advance now.

…

Meat queue from arriving to getting back in car was 35 mins. Could have been worse. They had at least ten people working in the butchers. Back home we kissed goodbye to my sister Sue who was up for the Morning Star carol session and I set to making the stuffing. 

I have to say the stuffing is looking great: one rubbishy white loaf chopped into small bits, a few white onions ditto, chopped dried apricots, fresh sage, rosemary and thyme, chopped smoked back and unsmoked streaky bacon (whatever we had handy) and a wodge of butter chopped into small chunks. Forgot to put pepper in bit it won’t matter. Can still add some on the day.

We are mainly having beef and the turkey is just a smallish bit of breast for those who look upon it as traditional on the day so there is nothing to stuff. However we all like stuffing and I imagine everyone will have a slice of turkey to justify it.

Normally I make the pigs in blankets myself but the packs of premade ones in Fosters looked good so I bought a couple and cut down on the sausage and streaky bacon order (not much).

So today I have a titchy bit of shopping to do for that someone special but otherwise fairly chilled afternoon ahead of me. Festivities are mostly over and from our on it is all about family. Those of them who aren’t out on the lash with their old school chums anyway which could be a majority 🙂 It is no different to when I used to go home to the Isle of Man at Christmas. Everyone would be back so you would be out most nights in Douglas, or The Crosby which was the nearest pub to our house a mile and a half walk away.

Coming home from The Crosby was always an interesting experience. The first part was along the main road/TT Course but the second half was up a back lane with no lights. The only way of not veering off the road in the pitch darkness was to walk up the middle where you could feel the camber on either side. As you got nearer the entrance to Ballagarey Road lights started to appear so it was all ok from there on.

…

My god. Waitrose. Cars queueing to get in, mainly because of having to wait for other cars to reverse out n stuff like that. I got the last trolley and one of the few remaining scanners. Did get everything I needed this pm but the queue for the self scanner checkout was halfway down aisle 5!! Apaz it was worse if you didn’t do self scan.

Reminds me of the queues for NYE at the millennium. In those days scanners were new. The queues at the checkout stretched down two aisle halves for each till. In other words to the back of the shop. There were no queues for the self scanners. Defo made me a bit smug.

Anyways back to an empty house and some chill time. No wait I need to check we have fondue fuel!

The big day has arrived. Another big day. There are lots of them. This big day is the annual Morning Star carol session. A not to be missed banger where we sing all my fave carols accompanied by lots of beer (warm Guinness) and mince pies. 

Jacket potahtoes flunch today. Keeping it simple. Choice of toppings. Quite like beans meself though it does depend on the mood or the occasion. A jacket can form part of a dinner where something a little more savoury might be appropriate. A sauce of some sort. Gravy like. With a knob of butter. Anyway today it will be beans for me and I did hear others mention cheese and Coleslaw. I might even add a sausage. Living the dream. Then I won’t want much before heading to the Star. 

Now up and at it in da kitch. Our John is back from Berlin and also already up.

4th Sunday in advent today btw. I realise you already knew that. Probably lit your candle and  opened your advent calendar to retrieve the chocolate/whisky miniature/plastic scale model of the Virgin Mary. Is that a thing? For the devout perhaps. 

I’ve never had an advent calendar. I’m not looking for sympathy. Not sure it was a thing when I was a kid. I have had chocolate and a whisky miniature. Not when I was a kid. Obvs. The whisky that is. Actually our one annual tipple as a kid was a bottle of Babycham each on Christmas Day and maybe also Boxing Day. Disgusting stuff. Tried it a few years ago for old times sake.

There are noises off. Upstairs. Not sure this is just THG and Berliner John. I’ll nip upstairs in a bit. To check.

So this morning whilst THG is at her usual devotions in church, made extra special by the advent thing, I will be out and about sourcing more provisions and maybe even a small gift for that special someone. We keep thinking of new things to add to the shopping list. Hoping they will have had a new delivery of Epoisses.

My 2024 shopping list is drawing to a close. In January I will start a new one entitled Tref’s Shopping List 2025. Obvious really. You might be able to guess the name of the 2024 list. I never delete things off the list. Just add new dates and line items. It doesn’t represent a comprehensive guide to what I’ve bought over the year as things often appear in the trolley that aren’t on the list but it is part of my series of historical documents. Ditto Tref’s Jobslist 2024 etc. You might have to wait until I am dead and gone before gaining access but that is simply the way of things.

Anyway see ya at the Morning Star later, maybs. Ciao amigos.

Today’s banging tune is at the request of Guy Osborne. I do try to accommodate requests wherever possible.

We wish you a merry Christmas x3
And a happy new year!

Good tidings we bring to you and your kin;
We wish you a merry Christmas and a happy new year.

Now bring us a figgy pudding x3
And bring it us here!

Oh we won’t go until we’ve got some x3
So give it us here!

Oh we all like figgy pudding x 3
So bring it out here!

…

At ten fifteen this morning, on the 4th Sunday of advent (as you know) Waitrose was totes chaos. I left the main wine shop until tomorrow where they will hopefully have had another delivery. Ditto epoisses. The lady behind the deli counter said she had ordered some but it hadn’t arrived yet. Bought some brie as a backup.

Home by elevenish. That’s enough gadding about for now. The house is a hive of activity.

…

Back after another great carol session at the Morning Star. Biggest crowd we’ve ever had. Some guy said he’d come from Boston because he had heard how good it was 🙂 V satisfying. It was quite emotional really especially towards the end when everyone stood up to sing O Come All Ye Faithful and Hark The Herald Angels Sing. Two absolutely banging tunes.

Thassit now for public engagements for the year 🙂 Hereon it is all about family although the family was there tonight. The lads have shot off drinking in the Bail or simlar. The great thing is that I am pretty sure the kids will continue the carol singing tradition long after THG and I are gone. They all make sure they are home for it. Very satisfying.

Home now to a warm house. Might have a nightcap in a bit. Once I’ve finished left handed typing this post. I’m sprawled on a sofa in the front room. There are sounds of conversation emanating from the snug but I can’t quite hear what is being said.

If you were there, thanks for coming. If you didn’t make it you missed a great night. The cold shouldn’t put you off.

The shortest day. Feels significant. Doesn’t normally. Perhaps I’m getting (even more) philosophical in my old age. At this time of year i have deeply meaningful thoughts and wax lyrical about the turning of the year.

When you think about it New Year’s Eve shouldn’t be on 31st of December but today. Tomorrow is when the new year really starts. Today our feasting officially commences. All the parties and meals of the past couple of weeks have just been the warm up act. Yesterday’s Waitrose shop was mostly to secure provisions for tonight’s meal. Only Hannah and George will be missing. They wind their way north tomorrow in time for the Morning Star carol session. 7pm onwards if yer interested. Book early.

Still need to get the meat and veg for the big day, plus some epoisses. Waitrose was sold out of the stuff. Wot. And some more plonk. Funny how the level of supplies goes down very quickly with a houseful. When they were kids it was just Ribena. Now it’s red wine. And the gin, and beer etc. Plus bread, ham, milk, all the staples. It’s as if they don’t eat where they live and save themselves for when they get back to the mothership. Not complaining. We love it.

In the meantime the shed has been filling up with Davies men, or lads as they are called when watching the darts. Last year we had a Davies lads trip to the darts at Ally Pally. Carnage. Has to be seen to be believed. You only need to go once and I won’t be bothering again. Great night out though.

THG just reminded me that Just William normally makes an appearance on the wireless at Christmas. We love listening to Just William. They aren’t books for children. They are written for adults. The writing is just sublime. I remember reading the books to the kids at bedtime to loud guffaws. Not the way to get them to go to sleep really.

Another tradition is to listen to Nine Lessons and Carols from King’s College Cambridge on Christmas Eve. The essence of Christmas. The ending of the service is usually the prompt to head to the Morning Star. We are early doors types and going early means we are more likely to find a seat. Gets rammed.

Today’s carol is The first ‘Nowell!’. A real banger that people put their hearts into. You need to hold back on the harmonies until the last verse. I’ll assume you know to sing the refrain at the end of each verse. It is quite a long one and I’m not sure we sing every verse but this version, as is the case for all the carols posted here, comes to you direct from the pages of the New Oxford Book of Carols.

The first ‘Nowell!’ the angel did say
Was to certain poor shepherds in fields as they lay;
In fields where they lay keeping their sheep,
On a cold winter’s night that was so deep.

Nowell! nowell! nowell! nowell,
Born is the King of Israel.

They looked up and saw a star
Shining in the east beyond them far;
And to the earth it gave great light,
And so it continued both day and night.

And by the light of that same star
Three wise men came from country far;
To seek for a King was their intent,
And to follow the star wherever it went.

This star drew nigh to the north-west:
O’er Bethlehem it took its rest;
And there it did both stop and stay,
Right over the place where Jesus lay.

Then did they know assuredly
Within that house the king did lie;
One entered in then for to see,
And found the babe in poverty.

Then entered in those wise men three,
Full reverently upon their knee,
And offered there, in his presence,
Both gold and myrrh, and frankincense.

Between an ox-stall and an ass
This Child there truly borned was;
For want of clothing they did him lay
All in the manger, among the hay.

Then let us all with one accord
Sing praises to our heavenly Lord
That hath made heaven and earth of nought,
And with his blood mankind hath bought.

If we in our lifetime shall do well
We shall be free from death and hell,
For God hath prepared for us all
A resting-place in general.

Spuds, sprouts, peas, carrots, large white sliced loaf, onions, fresh sage & thyme, butter, eggs, celery

Mildly embarrassed to say that at ten thirty five ey em I’ve just finished breakfast and cleared up and am still in my pyjamas. Two of the occupants of the house have left separately for retail activity and I hear some movement upstairs that suggests I may shortly be joined by the third. During the course of the day we are expecting two further revellers to turn up. All good.

Soon after I wrote that the retail therapists returned and the kitchen is now a hive of activity. Preparations have started for tonight’s gourmet feast. My only involvement has been to pay for the ingredients which weren’t particularly cheap. I can’t complain as I am partially responsible for their upbringing.

…

The shed, this afternoon, is warm and cosy and indeed a haven of calm from the hive of activity that is the kitchen. THG and I off to the Cathedral in an hour or so to hear Benjamin Britten’s A Ceremony of Carols. Not heard of it before so blasting it out in the shed to get in the spirit. Well one doesn’t actually blast out Benjamin Britten’s A Ceremony of Carols does one but you get the idea. Whether I’ll be able to sit still for ninety minutes is another issue. Will find out soon enough innit. 

Sounds v good in the shed fair play. Relaxing. Hoping I won’t nod off listening to it. It’s in the Chapter House so quite an intimate backdrop. Will probs need to wrap up well. They don’t have double glazing in there. I suppose the candles will warm the place up a bit. Better to use real candles than switching your phone’s torch on like they do in big gigs. More atmospheric, certainly more appropriate and definitely warmer with the added benefit that it won’t drain your phone battery. Remind me to switch my phone off. Don’t want distractions innit.

The shortest day. Feels significant. Doesn’t normally. Perhaps I’m getting (even more) philosophical in my old age. At this time of year i have deeply meaningful thoughts and wax lyrical about the turning of the year.

When you think about it New Year’s Eve shouldn’t be on 31st of December but today. Tomorrow is when the new year really starts. Today our feasting officially commences. All the parties and meals of the past couple of weeks have just been the warm up act. Yesterday’s Waitrose shop was mostly to secure provisions for tonight’s meal. Only Hannah and George will be missing. They wind their way north tomorrow in time for the Morning Star carol session. 7pm onwards if yer interested. Book early.

Still need to get the meat and veg for the big day, plus some epoisses. Waitrose was sold out of the stuff. Wot. And some more plonk. Funny how the level of supplies goes down very quickly with a houseful. When they were kids it was just Ribena. Now it’s red wine. And the gin, and beer etc. Plus bread, ham, milk, all the staples. It’s as if they don’t eat where they live and save themselves for when they get back to the mothership. Not complaining. We love it.

In the meantime the shed has been filling up with Davies men, or lads as they are called when watching the darts. Last year we had a Davies lads trip to the darts at Ally Pally. Carnage. Has to be seen to be believed. You only need to go once and I won’t be bothering again. Great night out though.

THG just reminded me that Just William normally makes an appearance on the wireless at Christmas. We love listening to Just William. They aren’t books for children. They are written for adults. The writing is just sublime. I remember reading the books to the kids at bedtime to loud guffaws. Not the way to get them to go to sleep really.

Another tradition is to listen to Nine Lessons and Carols from King’s College Cambridge on Christmas Eve. The essence of Christmas. The ending of the service is usually the prompt to head to the Morning Star. We are early doors types and going early means we are more likely to find a seat. Gets rammed.

Today’s carol is The first ‘Nowell!’. A real banger that people put their hearts into. You need to hold back on the harmonies until the last verse. I’ll assume you know to sing the refrain at the end of each verse. It is quite a long one and I’m not sure we sing every verse but this version, as is the case for all the carols posted here, comes to you direct from the pages of the New Oxford Book of Carols.

The first ‘Nowell!’ the angel did say
Was to certain poor shepherds in fields as they lay;
In fields where they lay keeping their sheep,
On a cold winter’s night that was so deep.

Nowell! nowell! nowell! nowell,
Born is the King of Israel.

They looked up and saw a star
Shining in the east beyond them far;
And to the earth it gave great light,
And so it continued both day and night.

And by the light of that same star
Three wise men came from country far;
To seek for a King was their intent,
And to follow the star wherever it went.

This star drew nigh to the north-west:
O’er Bethlehem it took its rest;
And there it did both stop and stay,
Right over the place where Jesus lay.

Then did they know assuredly
Within that house the king did lie;
One entered in then for to see,
And found the babe in poverty.

Then entered in those wise men three,
Full reverently upon their knee,
And offered there, in his presence,
Both gold and myrrh, and frankincense.

Between an ox-stall and an ass
This Child there truly borned was;
For want of clothing they did him lay
All in the manger, among the hay.

Then let us all with one accord
Sing praises to our heavenly Lord
That hath made heaven and earth of nought,
And with his blood mankind hath bought.

If we in our lifetime shall do well
We shall be free from death and hell,
For God hath prepared for us all
A resting-place in general.

First item on my shopping list today is essence of kumquat. I don’t really expect to be able to buy some from waitrose. It’s just one of those joke ingredients I chuck in whenever I’m feeling a bit playful. Google it though and such a thing does exist. They use it in the making of orange liqueur n stuff like that. I have no need for it and won’t really be buying any.

Gonna do a biggish shop today though. After yesterday’s experience of Fosters having no beef bones left I figured I’d better get in early to Waitrose. Not that we will be going there particularly early. I won’t have the car before around eleven thirty. Just one of those things you have to put up with when you decide to not have your own car. Could get a taxi I know but it isn’t a biggie to wait until eleven thirtyish. Hopefully.

Just realised it’s a Friday. Feels like a Saturday.

Anyway got the shopping in. No EoK natch. No Epoisses in store so will need to source elsewhere. Me n Jose wandered round Waitrose bumping into people we know. The back of the shopping is broken, so to speak. Meat to get from Fosters on Monday and a few bouteilles plus a veg shop which THG is sorting.

Large turkeys in Waitrose were going for over a ton. Not bought one in years but I seem to remember paying sixty pounds or so. Gosh. Blimey. Wasn’t in the market for a large turkey anyways. Did make my annual purchase of TUC crackers. What’s not to like?

Chillin now in da shed before heading to the Strugs for the annual sole traders Christmas do.

7.30am. Still dark out but it feels as if I should be getting up. However it is still dark out so I am being offered no encouragement. 

Eventually made it downstairs to a bit of toast, half a grapefruit and a cuppa. The simple things in life. Good job I bought some more marmalade yesterday as we are now down to less than a scoop and that will have to be scraped from the bottom of the jar. #importanthingsinlifeyouneedtoknow

We did make marmalade once, some years ago now. I remember it taking ages to reduce to a state where it would set and then we made the mistake of putting it in large kilner jars. It would dry out before we finished it. Not made any since. They sell it in Waitrose. Marmalade.

Now waiting while the wind blows. Waiting for the storm to move on. We need to set a mainsail. Foreign lands to explore. Islands to discover. Flags to flutter. Fish to catch. Rum to drink. 

A sailor’s life is supposed to be a hell of a lot of fun, but when you’re a sailor take it from me you work like a son of a gun.

The wind today is largely WSW. Near enough prevailing. I have no particular use for this information. In the days of sail the wind direction was important. It feels right to know what the prevailing wind direction is. I learnt it in primary school in Wales.

In those days it rained every Sunday afternoon. Probably other days as well. Don’t remember it snowing much, even at Christmas. Those Christmases have shaped how we celebrate the occasion today. I chose the word ‘occasion’ rather than festival, or birthday of Christ. Whilst the purpose nowadays is indeed to celebrate the birthday I doubt many people dwell on the religious aspect. It’s a story that has always been there. We eat and drink too much and give each other presents.

Silent night! holy night!

Silent night! holy night!
All is calm, all is bright
Round yon Virgin Mother and Child;
Holy Infant so tender and mild,
Sleep in heavenly peace!
Sleep in heavenly peace!

Silent night! holy night!

Shepherds quake at the sight;
Glories stream from heaven afar,
Heavenly hosts sing: ‘Alleluia!
Christ the Saviour, is born!
Christ the Saviour, is born!

Silent night! holy night!
Son of God, love’s pure light,
Radiant, beams from thy holy face
With the dawn of redeeming grace,
Jesus, Lord, at thy birth!
Jesus, Lord, at thy birth!

It’s ten to five, it’s dark, and I’ve only just started putting pen to paper. The use of that phrase seems appropriate even though neither pen nor paper are involved. Everyone understands. I assume. I guess there could be gen z types who have never picked up a pen who will remain ignorant but they are not the target readership.

In reality I don’t have a target readership 🙂I write this stuff for meself and post on Facebook and philosopherontap just as “well someone might want to read it” kind of thing. No idea whether anyone reads philosopherontap. I don’t monitor site visits. It is my legacy that will eventually disappear, like we all do. The wayback machine may preserve it.

Things like visitor numbers used to be important to me but they ain’t no more. Not since a long time ago. trefor.net peaked at 27k unique visitors a month. It was of its time. You might ask why did I stop writing the blog when it attracted that level of readership. Reality is I kind of retired and figured that poetry and creative writing was far more important than packets. Still do. It is really a diary with a few bits thrown in just for kicks.

I’ve kind of retired at least twice. Now I just do stuff I like doing. At the mo I’m drinking a gin and tonic in the shed and listening to The Clash. Might watch a bit of Band of Brothers before going in and cooking the curry that’s in the freezer. 

THG would approve. Of the curry that is. From the freezer. She thinks I’m far to wasteful and is probs right.  I bought the Waitrose Chichen Jalfrezi because it was reduced so cheap, ish. It isn’t as good as the Charlie Bigham Chichen Jalfrezi but like I said it was cheap. We all like a barg. 

Note the Liverpudlian accent on the pronunciation of the word chicken. That’s THG’s influence. She is from around there.  Eermknowworrameanlike. Lob scouse, Anfield, Liverbuilding, Ferry across the Mersey, The Beatles.

Ten to midnight and we were back in our hotel room. What an evening! Planned for months. He didn’t disappoint. 

The Beatles and subsequently Paul McCartney have provided the musical backdrop of our lives. I recall listening to them on the wireless with mam at the age of about seven or eight when we lived in Cardiff. When I was at school I bought the complete set of singles. Might have been the number ones. John Lennon died during my first year at university. I woke up on the morning of my 19th birthday to the news and took the day off classes to listen to the back to back Beatles broadcast all day. 

I have most of the albums and many by Wings and have now seen Macca four times. Might be five. This gig will probably be the last we will see. At the age of 82 he has outlived most of his contemporaries. A real feat of longevity considering the sex and drugs and rock and roll age in which he flourished. There is hope for us all.

You can see why he still does it. Firstly he recognises a real clamour from his fans to see him perform. There was a bloke in the crowd at his 134th PM gig.  Then there is the huge outpouring of love from the audience directed directly at him on stage. Twenty three thousand people singing his songs. Cheering. He was visibly affected. I was affected. Everyone was affected. 

We had great tix. Row 12. Maybe 25m away. Just over the length of a cricket square. The sound was fantastic. The visual presentation amazing. I wish I could offer better adjectives. All a work of art. The fireworks and pyrotechnics for Live And Let Die had to be seen to be believed. You couldn’t have imagined it possible on an indoor stage. 

That’s enough gough. Nananananananaa. Let it be. We went back to our hotel tired but happy.

THG and I go our separate ways this morning. She heads west to Liverpool to visit family and I east to recover from five full on days of partying. Truth be told, when left alone at home it is unlikely that I’ll be having quiet nights on the sofa. There will probably be wine…

Before then, stopping off at the field of Sheff for a spot of lunch with Andy and Will. Catch ya later.

…

The sound of the trams. Clank n hoot.

…

I suppose before the advent of the laptop I’d probably have sat on a train reading the paper, or conversing with fellow passengers, were they amenable or interesting. Both. In the 1st Class carriage on the Liverpool Lime Street to Cleethorpes Trans Pennines Express there is nobody else to talk to. I do have a book but I’ve already read it a few times and can’t be bothered for the moment

Earlier, coat clad commuters scurried by the window of the hotel breakfast room bound unsmiling for their place of indenture. Inside the restaurant I passed a table a few times where two businessmen discussed, business: “clear brief to the RMs”, “ready to launch in January”. On another pass a laptop was open with an upside down pyramid on show with the word BRAND jumping out of the page. Curiosity peaked, I glanced momentarily in their direction at which point the talker paused in his stride before momentum took him forward.

Johnnies in the basement mixing up the medicine.

The slow train trundles. Picking up speed seems to be a gradual thing. No sudden jerks pushing passengers back into their seats in coach G for G Force. My seats reservation is for coach C but there is no coach C. The train network around here seems to have a certain sadness to it. A malaise that contrasts with the model sheep filled countryside through which the engines roar. Church spires command drystone hillsides. Evidence of industry through  valleys veins.

The anonymous hamlet of Chinley rolls effortlessly by, briefly in our thoughts but long forgotten.

We’ll meet again someday, on the avenue, tangled up in blue.

Tiny walkers step steadily along the river meadow below.

…

Sat at an out of the way table in the Sheffield Tap. Near enough to the bar to make it convenient. The train news is not so convenient. The next two trains to Lincoln have been cancelled. This means that the 16.38 will be heaving. The one after that is also cancelled. I have no choice although there is a transport of last resort called taxi. At least I’d be able to kip in a taxi.

Not getting a good vibe about trains in this part of the world. Makes me think LNER are actually quite good.

I am drinking Virtuous beer. This is the name of the brew and not an adjective suggesting it has high moral standards. An example of a virtuous person suggested by google is  “she considered herself very virtuous because she neither drank nor smoked”. Doesn’t seem consistent with beer but tbh google is just an algorithm. You should make up your own minds on the subject. I have. I’m on my second pint.

It’s quite interesting to watch people coming in to the ub. Most of them are en route somewhere though the occasional local makes an appearance. There is a large selection of ales and to watch an individual bloke walk up to the bar and order a specific beer feels culturally important. It’s what blokes do. Not all blokes. Just the generic bloke. Feels right. Certainly in a real ale pub in Sheffield. If this was a wine bar or a trendy bar in the South that would be different.

Bloke just walked in carrying one of those short woolly jacket/coats. It probably has a name but I know not. Girlfriend with him. They are smiling and having a good time.

Good job this is not Christmas Eve. Would be a nightmare trying to get home then. Stranded in Sheffield railway station. Someone would definitely have to bite the bullet and drive over to pick me up. THG I guess. She would be happy!

Anyway this is not Christmas Eve and I am not yet stranded. There is at least one train that will get me home. Wouldn’t be quite so bad if I was a little more mobile and able to cope with the push and shove of fighting my way on the train, barging little old ladies aside, to secure a seat, trampling over kids etc.

Feels as if the light is starting to fade outside. 4pm. 16:00hrs. Yanow. Thirty more minutes sat in the pub before I’ll look to moving to the platform. Will defo be dark by then. Deep midwinter. As long as I get a seat I’ll be ok.

Bespectacled young woman in combat trousers and a backpack enters, strides purposefully to the bar and studies the beer selection, leaning forward eyes slightly focussed. A man tries a sample of a beer and then orders a half pint. Fair enuff.

White haired old geezer in red and black lumberjack jacket has come in. He is either wearing a flat cap or beret. Can’t quite make it out and he has taken it off now that he is inside.

…

Sheffield to lincoln train rammed but I have a seat with a table and an empty seat next to me

Big crowd of people stood on platform but I asked member of staff where was best to stand and he pointed at an empty 15 m at the front. I was first on the train. It’s what you know innit.

Now tucking in to a (small) can of Thornbridge Jaipur 5.9% with a (small) packet of Pipers Cheddar and Onion crisps and listening to Sting Sending Out an SOS. Police. Seems unlikely I’ll be abel to make it to the on train toilet near term so I’ll have to take that into consideration when deciding on how many cans to open. No idea how many of these travellers are going all the way to Lincoln and therefore how busy the train will continue to be.

Sbeen a different to normal day. I will survive. 

When you are on a train from Sheffield to Lincoln all life is here. If only I could take a pic of everyone. Girl with false eyelashes, fake fur coat and a pink shopping bag with “LOVE” on the side. No idea who most of these people are or what their lives are like. What is a good life? Couple of musicians got on at Shireoaks. One with a guitar hard case and one with two soft jobs – one on his back and one in his hands.

The next station is Worksop. Fwiw. Enormous woman getting off here. She looks neither comfortable nor happy.

…

We went to see a musician. His songs represented what he was doing in life at different stages of his life.