St David's Day
Which actually means something in Wales and to the Welsh, unlike St George's Day in England. The Scots and the Irish know how to celebrate their patron saint too.
In Primary school I always envied the children whose family had preserved national dress which they were able to wear to school on March 1.
This photo shows the nearest to the ones I remember.
At Grammar School. the weeks leading up to the day were filled with lunch and break times practice of singing, choir, choral speaking, verse speaking and entries for competitions such as cooking, art, poetry etc. This culminated in an Eisteddfod (a Welsh festival of literature, music and performance. The tradition of such a meeting of Welsh artists dates back to at least the 12th century).
On the day itself, everyone packed into the Hall for the performances and the announcement of class winners, points were awarded to one's House. Always accompanied by the redolent smell of leeks. The boys competed to see who could wear the biggest leek pinned to their blazer lapel, which they then nibbled as the day wore on. The girls? That was leeks too - until a small market garden on the way to the dining room started selling individual daffodils. The Welsh for daffodil is 'cenin Pedr', St Peter's leeks. Maybe that's how the daffodil came about, or maybe, because it's prettier and smells better.
One year, my mother's picau ar y maen (Welshcakes) recipe won first prize for my House.
On the day itself, everyone packed into the Hall for the performances and the announcement of class winners, points were awarded to one's House. Always accompanied by the redolent smell of leeks. The boys competed to see who could wear the biggest leek pinned to their blazer lapel, which they then nibbled as the day wore on. The girls? That was leeks too - until a small market garden on the way to the dining room started selling individual daffodils. The Welsh for daffodil is 'cenin Pedr', St Peter's leeks. Maybe that's how the daffodil came about, or maybe, because it's prettier and smells better.
One year, my mother's picau ar y maen (Welshcakes) recipe won first prize for my House.
An 8.30 start on a beautiful, if breezy, Spring morning for our north coast birding day. So good to be out birding again after days of very strong, stormy wind with less rain than most of the country seems to be suffering. Enough here to cause flooding on saturated fields, with standing water everywhere.
Three Red Kites using the wind to display, stock still one minute, racing away the next, before battling back again, on the ridge near Harpley Cottages was a delight.
The next delight was two 'boxing' hares through a gap in the hedge along the same lane. What I assume was the unready female, ran away, leaving the perplexed male still sitting, wind ruffling his fur the wrong way.
The Tree Sparrows were in and around the nesting boxes again to-day, as were House Sparrows. I do hope that they do not usurp the Trees' nestholes.
Barry saw us to-day, inviting us in to look round his farm worker's house which they have worked hard on, renovating the interior, knocking down walls etc. All the farmer gave him was a bag of cement !
We turned down the invitation as it was high tide time at Snettisham and we still had some miles to go. No sign of any Brambling to-day. We spent the entire day missing out on Moorhen, Coal and Marsh Tits, Nuthatch and Grey Heron.
Guess what ! The tide was well out at Snettisham. About 160 Avocets formed a dense white line along the far shore.
Using my scope, I identified both Godwits, Grey and Golden Plovers, Ringed Plover, Curlew, Redshank and , at last, Sanderling in their white winter garb.
Using my scope, I identified both Godwits, Grey and Golden Plovers, Ringed Plover, Curlew, Redshank and , at last, Sanderling in their white winter garb.
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| Interesting stones |
We shared a cheese and ham, brown bread, sandwich on Hunstanton Cliffs whilst waiting for a Fulmar to appear. The two we saw were hugging the clifftop, battling into the wind.
We arrived at Titchwell loos at the same time as a coachload of silver oldies. That was a good queue ! I had to wait outside the disabled loo, almost giving up on the standing, when a young woman came out and ran to her car. I wonder what her 'hidden disability' was? Perhaps she was just desperate.
I spent some time at Brancaster Staithe becoming increasingly impatient with a male Teal. It would not turn its head so that I could photograph the sun on his green head. Except when I put my camera down that is.
Pam was amused by my disregarded instructions to the bird. I gave up, another day. They are in such splendid plumage at the moment - and the sun was shining.
Despite dipping on several 'expected' species, we ended up with a pleasing total of 76.
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