Glyn’s house misses him. He died around this time last year. I heard the news when I was staying in Lincoln working. Just about as far away as you could possibly be.
The gales did not treat it well.
He left the house to the National Trust, and they have taken a while to decide whether to take it on. The decision seems to be that they understand that the house is an important one, not just as an example of Welsh vernacular architecture, but also in the hearts and minds of people in Pembrokeshire.
Glyn was a good custodian of his home, though in later years he failed to see the decay it was falling in to, and he did not have the ability to maintain it as it needed. In early days it received a fresh coat of limewash every year until it glowed in a way only limewashed walls do. Age wasn’t kind, either to Glyn or the house.
This week a film company came to look at the location. They will be filming the progress of the saving of this small piece of Wales by the National Trust. Their record is one of beautiful documentaries, and The National Trust should renovate the cottage with sympathy and love. What happens then I don’t know. It would be good to see someone living in it. Hopefully I will be able to call round with my camera to record the progress.
Meanwhile the jackdaws nests are exposed and the spider’s webs curtain the windows.
I was asked what had happened to Nadolig, Glyn’s cat. He was cared for by my neighbours, Phylis and Alan for a couple of years when Glyn was in a home. He loved to sit on the doorstep in the sun, waiting, and then when he realised Glyn wasn’t coming back he would rest in sunshine in the neighbour’s garden. Now and again he would visit, but he and Max always fought. He was ill, and cared for well by Phylis and Alan. And then on the day that Pixie was killed by a great Alsatian dog that passed through my garden Nadolig disappeared. We assumed that he had met the same fate, though for a while we kept an eye out for him. Sad news I know, but he had a good life. Once he even came for a walk with us, to the top of the hill.
There’s a new feral cat around now. This one lives in Jan and John’s barn on a hay bale. She made it through the hurricane.
For anyone new to the blog, this was Glyn. For friends from way back, thanks again for all the cards you sent him. He kept them all in a huge pile and we would look through them now and again and he would marvel at how people, with cats, all around the world had known him and taken the time to write and send pictures.