Left to right, Chataway, Banister, Brasher

It is fifty five years since the young medical undergraduate, Roger Bannister became the first person in the world officially to break the magical barrier of the four minute mile.  As a child of a home which did not yet have the luxury of a TV set, I heard the news on the radio, and later watched the exciting event on the Pathe Newsreel at the local cinema.

A couple of years later when I was a pupil at Colwyn Bay Grammar School in North Wales, we had the honour of a visit from one of Roger Bannister’s pacemakers, Chris Chattaway.  It was a hot summer’s day, and Chris gave us a sort of ‘masterclass’ in athletics.  At one point, he asked me to be the timekeeper for a track race and handed me his own personal wristwatch to perform the task.

I idly turned the watch over and was thrilled to see the inscription on the back.  It was the very watch presented to him by Roger Bannister himself as a ‘Thank-you’ for the assistance in breaking that barrier!

Another of the pacemakers on that day was of course, Chris Brasher who later founded the London marathon…  which both my son & daughter in law have successfully completed. And, if I am not mistaken, I believe that my son actually ran in a half marathon alongside Chris Chattaway, and managed a reasonably similar time…. though of course, the one was quite a few years older that the other by then!

Once the barrier had been broken, more and more people were to break the four minute barrier, and I myself was present in the crowd at White City when it happenned in the early sixties.

©1996 – 2009 American Academy of Achievement. All Rights Reserve

We became involved in this HD TV saga as a direct result of the sudden death of my washer-dryer after fifteen years of reliability, when after several unsuccessful attempts to get a suitable replacement at the right price elsewhere,  we eventually went into Currys in Llansamlet in Swansea.

We quickly found exactly the right product, paid for it and arranged for its’ delivery a couple of days later at a time to suit our timetable….. Sorted!

On the way out, we noticed a huge amount of publicity for a special offer to install HD and multi-room Sky TV.  We made enquiries and were told that we could use this offer to upgrade the Sky TV we currently have …… no purchase necessary (though, to be fair we had just spent £450 on a new washing machine, had we not?)… So for a one off payment of £29, and then an extra £20 per month we would have Sky HD in the lounge and a further sky box in a second room.

Several text calls and Emails from Sky later, we had a phone call from somebody several thousands of miles to the east of Offa’s Dyke, a gentleman called ‘Mo’ with a very pronounced accent.

From this difficult conversation,  it emerged that the amazing offer we had received from our local store was a complete mix up.  We could not in fact have the multi-room offer.  That only comes when you purchase an HD-ready TV from the store at the time of booking (contrary to the information from the salesman).  Also we would have to pay,  not £29, but £79 …. though the monthly increase would be halved to £9.75…. and this would just be for the straightforward HD and Sky in one room only…..

Confused?… We certainly were, with each of us taking turns to try to translate what the man in the call centre was trying to get across.  He said that installation would be very simple, and would not need any wiring, just a card, as we already have a sky aerial.  He tried to persuade us, though, to switch our telephone to Sky, but we refused as we are happy with our current service provider, and we made it clear that we were not prepared to link the TV to the telephone….(we don’t use TV shopping channels)

We agreed to go ahead, anyway with the straightforward installation of the basic HD in one room only, and a date was fixed for Monday, between 9 am  and 1 pm.  We mentioned the fact that there is congestion at certain times as we live opposite a school, and that access to the satellite dish is restricted by a canopy, but we were assured that this would not be a problem.

We later received a letter confirming the installation arrangements, just as we were going away for the weekend preceeding ‘Installation Monday’.

On the Sunday evening we received an Email telling us that the installation team would telephone us at 9 am on the Monday to tell us exactly when they would arrive.

At 9.30 am on that fateful Monday (without the telephone warning) two service engineers arrived (knowing nothing about the Email contact).

Firstly, they inspected the satelite dish…. (cue: sucking in of breath)…. “The problem here is that it will have to be totally rewired.  The wire is the wrong colour.  The original Sky Engineer installed it wrongly, you see.  And you are missing a bit at the end of it that we’ll have to add.  It will all have to be rewired,  and that will be difficult as it is all sealed in”

So we went inside to look at the set …..” Yes, that’s OK, but where is the telephone socket?”

Now then!  Here’s the rub …. despite having told the far-away-gentleman that we were not prepared to link to the telephone…it appears that, if we do not connect the TV to the telephone, Sky will charge us a further £25 in order NOT to do so!

They will also then charge us an additional £60 per month until the full cost of the HD box has been covered.

To connect the telephone would involve having two sets of wires running into the room, over the door and across the room.  In addition, the far-away-gentleman had arranged for “Multi-room Sky” (which we had distinctly said we did not want), which would mean a further two sets of wires coming into the house and over and around several other doors and into another room too! Not a word of all this had ever been mentioned before.

Then they turned their attention to the fact that our TV stands on top of a purpose built reproduction cabinet  (cue: another sharp intake of breath)…. “The trouble there, is the lack of ventilation …. the HD box gets very hot… you would have to sit with the cabinet doors open whenever you want to watch HD TV., or sit the box outside somewhere on a table, (complete with wires)

At this point, we both said unanimously:  “Sorry, boys… forget it!”

However… there is another twist to this farce…Had we allowed them to go ahead with their planned task, they would not have been able to set it up on the same day, anyway, as in their wisdom, the company had not sent us the necessary HD card and we would have been without any TV at all until such time as they managed to get their act together!

The engineers were very understanding, considering that they had spent at least 30 minutes of their time, for which Sky would not reimburse them, and they agreed that we were right to cancel in view of the long term disruption and damage that the installation would  inevitably have caused.

The engineer used our land line to contact the firm and my husband then cancelled the contract and asked for a full refund within 24 hours. (Needless to say,even 48 hours later there was no sign of the refund, and when we telephoned the Sky number we had been given, they knew nothing about it)

At the same time our visitor made a call on his mobile phone to report “Yet another cancellation as a result of poor advice and information, both from the initial salesman and the call centre”.

Why does Sky do this?  Perhaps they hope that people will be afraid to stop the work when the full reality of the lack of truthful information is realised?  Yet these two apparently honest engineers told us there are dozens of people deciding, as we did, that it is all just not worth the hassle.

But then, Sky were quick enough to take the £79 from our account .  On a grand scale over the whole country, that probably could amount to an enormous sum of money available to them for trading, despite its’ having to be returned later…they at least have access to cashflow for fourteen days in the interim.

So….Beware!  If you should decide to take up one of these offers, make sure you read the small print and don’t get too excited about HD until you actually talk to someone who knows what is what.

Dydd Dewi Sant Hapus Iawn

Happy St David’s Day

Because it happened to fall on a Saturday this year…….. schoolchildren all over Wales celebrated the special day a day early, though that will not prevent their celebrating all over again tomorrow. Most schools devote the day to mini Eisteddfodau, where children preform songs, both choral and solo,recitations and dramas.

One of the great things about being brought up in Wales is the traditional emphasis placed on culture and public performance which stands children in good stead for the future.

Most children wear Welsh costume for the special day (and this year they get two days).

Girls wear check skirts, red jackets , white blouses, red or check shawls, frilly white mop caps all topped off with either tall black hats or the prettier ‘cockle’ hats.

Legend tells that on one occasion this ‘uniform’ saved Wales from invasion from the French under the leadership of Napoleon Bonaparte .

With too few soldiers to defend against an invasion by sea at Abergwaun (Fishguard), the local women moved swiftly up and down and around a hill, giving the French the impression that the area was heavily guarded, so like the redcoats uniforms did the ladies’ costumes appear. The raiders took both fright and flight, fearing a massive army had arrived to quell them, and the instigator of the women’s rebellion, Jemima Nicholas has been a heroine in Wales ever since. She was known as Jemima Fawr (Jemima the Great), and I know of at least one school where her story was acted out as a drama today.

Towns and cities throughout Wales will be the brighter tomorrow when everyone will head for town in their Welsh costumes to show off!

When I was a child, little boys wore tweed jackets and voluminous caps, but these have  gone out of fashion and most little boys (and some girls too), now sport Welsh rugby shirts as their contribution to a happy and colourful day.

Of course everyone also sports either a daffodil or a leek.

Let’s hope the sun shines on them all!

So get out the chocs and flowers and give somebody you love a hug

Happy St Dwynwen’s Day !

There are several reasons for this.

Firstly, we tried to make the break once before, when we sailed away in 1999. We sent everyone on our huge list a card with instructions to keep it and put it up each year with the others, and to think of us, but not to send us cards. However, once we returned from our six year Odyssey, we somehow got sucked back in.

Last year we sent ‘Welsh Air Ambulance’ charity cards to everyone on the list and I included this web address, so that hopefully, any people who wonder where their cards are will come here to find out!.

This year, all the money which would have been used to purchase cards, and all the money which would have been spent on postage, will now be sent directly to the charity.

We have also decided not to give prezzies to the grown ups… only to grandchildren…. and they are having Premium Bonds rather than plastic trash. The children are old enough now to realise that not only will they have the chance to increase their holdings if they re-invest any winnings, but that eventually they will have some money saved up for when they are older and will be able to buy something substantial when they become independent.

As for the adults, the reasoning here is that most grown ups can do a better job of buying things they want/need, so it makes sense to avoid the mad rush and stress of shopping for things we hope they will like, but which, if they had really wanted them, they would have bought for themselves already.

All that… plus… we are getting old and have decided not to ‘do’ stress anymore!

Obviously, we shall not be expecting any gifts either, so think of the saving on prezzies, wrapping paper, gift tags and boxes… and think of all the trees that will not be wasted, and think of all that recycling space that will be free for others to fill.

Reading this through, I appear to be taking on the mantle of a certain Mr Scrooge.…. but nothing could be further from the truth. I just get cross about the amount of hype and ‘must have’ that accompanies the winter festival.

All this though, leads me on to my New Years Resolution, which is to make more effort to phone and/or Email friends and keep in better touch….. (since the invention of Email, there really is no excuse)

And still on the subject of Christmas, we have been to the children’s school Christmas concerts, which were excellent. But we were amazed to find not even one reference to the reason for the celebrations… not a crib nor a shepherd in sight… no Baby Jesus….no Joseph … no Virgin Mary…..no Magi…. no bright star….. Just Disney characters and Santas and woodland animals …..Whose birthday is it anyway?

Bah! Humbug!!!

Oh Yes…. And Merry Christmas everyone!

Stop Press News! Santa will be in the RSPCA CHARITY SHOP in Gorseinon this week.

Llys Nini Animal Centre in Penllergaer is delighted that Father Christmas has agreed to make a special appearance at its shop in Gorseinon’s High Street on Tuesday evening, 4th December.

He will be there from 6.30, both before and after the lantern procession.

A spokesman for Llys Nini Animal Centre said last night ” Father Christmas is always a huge supporter of Animal Welfare. This is not suprising considering he keeps a number of animals, including reindeer, himself.

He appreciates that animals need proper care and attention and he NEVER encourages people to give pets as presents.

In support of Llys Nini’s work in caring for so many sick and injured, abused and abandoned animals, he has agreed to spend some time in our shop in Gorseinon on Tuesday.

He also asks, if anyone can spare a tin of pet food, some blankets, bedding or even a small donation to drop it into him at the shop.

Everyone at Llys Nini is very greatful for his help in providing food and care for our animals over Christmas.”

The RSPCA and Santa both ask for people to spread the word.

It has not had an easy ride. It has met with a great deal of protest along the way, and as it nears completion, it is meeting more opposition at the English end too.

For me this all feels a bit like ‘deja vu’ .

In the sixties , my father was involved in the construction of the massive North Sea Gas network of pipelines which wended their way all around Wales.

Talk over the dinner table involved a lot of ‘wayleaves’, and ‘compensation offers’, and also ‘backfill’ and ‘land restoration’, not to mention the occasional ‘pig’ .

Dad was very keen that full photographic records were kept of ‘before, during and after’, and he was very proud of the fact that they met with very little opposition. He felt that on the whole this could be put down to careful negotiations with each individual landowner. They all do get compensation payments, you know!

Some thirty five years on, I doubt if anyone could point out where the pipes were buried underground….. so I feel that the current protesters might be pleasantly surprised be how well the scarred countryside will quickly recover.

Once he had finished pipelining Wales, he began the task of converting every home in the country to North Sea Gas in the early seventies. Monday mornings were “C Day” (C = conversion) in a different town or region each week. Every household was visited by a fitter and every gas-powered household item had the be individually modified. It was an enormous task.

Dad was aways on site each Monday, in time for the start, often leaving home around midnight to drive to the designated town awaiting its conversion.

After it was completed and everybody was able to enjoy the benefits of the new gas supply, my Dad was awarded the M.B.E. for his services to the Gas Industry.

How quickly time passes and things around us change! The North Sea Gas has dwindled and all but run out. I am sure that my father would never have believed that this could have happened so soon.

The new gas pipeline will carry Liquified Natural Gas which will be shipped via the the much expanded port of Milford Haven from the Middle east.

So we must look forward to the future and hope that this project eventually serves the people well and does not run out too soon.

When I was a child, all the local children spent weeks collecting twigs and branches to build a huge bonfire in the middle of a field. We also had to guard it against rival gangs who might try to take some of our hard earned pile.

Everybody contributed several fireworks which were placed in a safe lidded box in the care of the adult in charge.

After banging old buckets to frighten out any animals which had thought the woodpile a heaven sent refuge for the winter, the ‘Guy’ was hoisted into place at the top, and the fire was lit.

Fireworks were set off, sparklers whizzed around making dazzling patterns.

All too soon the fire died down, but then came the best time of all. We kids each had a spud to put into the embers, and after a while they were fished out with sticks and devoured hungrily. Nothing before or since has ever tasted so awful or so good at the same time!

However, one of my most vivid memories of childhood was the very first time I ever saw a bonfire.

It was wartime and we had been subjected to a very strict ‘Blackout‘ for nearly all of my life.

One night when I was nearly six, I remember my mother and a man coming into the bedroom to waken me. I was wrapped in a blanket and carried downstairs and out into the night air.

My mother carried my baby brother and the man carried me. We all hurried along a couple of streets, around a corner…. and…. there….was….the….brightest….. light…. I had ever seen!

The war was OVER!

A huge bonfire had been quickly built on the site of a house which had previously been hit by bombs during The Blitz. I was aware of silhouetted people dancing around the fire. Chairs and tables were added to the pyre, anything to keep it blazing.

Then there was a big cheer and an effigy of Adolf Hitler was thrown onto the fire. I was horrified as I thought a real person had been burned alive!

The ‘stranger’ who carried me that night was, in fact my father who had just been given compassionate leave to come home to see his newborn son… just days after being awarded the D.F.C.

I suppose it is no surprise that no bonfire has ever lived up to my first one?

By the time the squeaks had developed into glorious song a few weeks later, the habit of thinking of dear old Blod as a female was already well established so it stuck and he was to remain ‘she’ for the next seven years.

Now, dogs and birds are not usually expected to be bosom pals, but when Cassy joined the family, there was no animosity between them. Cassy used to enjoy watching Blodwen bathing in her clip-on bath (soaking everything and everyone with in a 3 ft range). And each recognised that I spoke to them both individually.

Blodwen used to do a special dance when offered slices of cucumber or lettuce leaves (little gem were her favourites), spreading her wings, opening her beak and acting quite spectacularly. Cassy watched this with benign understanding, possibly reasoning that if I had fed the bird it must soon be time to feed the dog too?

We never knew how old Blodwen was, but she was with us for seven years so was probably just a baby when we had her. Certainly she was bigger and shaggier in recent times.

One morning, having been woken by her beautiful rolling song at 8am, we ware shocked to find her ‘feet up’ on the floor of her cage at 9am. At least it was a quick death.
We tried to do the ‘pet thing’ right, and let Cassy sniff the cage to know that her friend was dead, and Cassy saw us bury the little shroud in the garden…. and inspected the empty cage afterwards.

She occasionally searched where the cage had formerly stood, but soon seemed to accept that her companion had gone for ever.Then one evening last week we came upon an old home video and were watching it on the TV, all three of us together. Suddenly, the screen was full of Blodwen and her beautiful singing and we felt quite nostalgic.

Then Dave noticed that the dog (who usually ignores the TV) was sitting up and watching the screen very alertly. Then Cassy got up and ran to the screen, wimpering and following the bird’s movements from side to side. We were amazed! She got so upset that we had to turn the video off.

Who would have thought it?

But how do you start to explain to a dog that it was just a film?

Whilst we were preparing our boat for the retirement trip to the Med., we were in the process of having her dragged out of the water for the annual scrubbing of the bottom and the ritual application of antifouling paint.

Unfortunately something went a bit wrong and I received a nasty injury to my right index finger which obviously needed surgery to save it. We both agreed that I should accept the offer from a friend to drive me to the local A & E department, whilst Dave got on with the antifouling as the lift back into the marina had been booked for the same evening.

Medical opinion at Singleton Hospital A & E centre was that micro- surgery at another hospital was necessary so I was whisked across the city in an ambulance.

Later that evening, and after several phone calls, each describing my condition as: ‘Comfortable’, or ‘In theatre’, or ‘In recovery’, an exhausted Dave (who had done all the taxing work which we would normally have shared) arrived at the hospital to see me,

At reception he was met by a sad faced young nurse who told him ‘I’m afraid your wife has taken a turn for the worse. Her condition is critical’.

Puzzled and frantic, he hurried along behind her to be shown into a private room where the very sick incumbent was almost hidden under a sheet.

Then the poor sick lady was revealed and he didn’t know
whether to laugh or cry for the lady in the bed was at least 95 years old, and clearly dreadfully ill.

“That’s not my wife!”, he cried, and it was the turn of the poor young nurse to be horrified at her mistake.

It was a very relieved husband who later found me sitting up in bed, right arm suspended from the metal contraption beside me, and eating a piece of quiche (left handed) which I gladly shared with him, as neither of us had had time to eat anything that day.

Thanks to the micro surgeons at Morriston Hospital, I recovered to sail another day……… though someone in the Yacht Club was heard to remark that people will go to ridiculous lengths to avoid having to do the antifouling