Yep that’s my mum. Born in Bedwas, a mining village across the valley from Caerphilly, in 1923. And yes she’s 90 today.
She almost didn’t make it past 5 though. My Grandfather, her father, the Welsh speaking one, was a manager at the Colliery there, and she and her two brothers lived in a company house. There were directly under the cable that took the huge cast iron skips full of slag and waste up to the top of the mountain and deposited it on the huge spoil tips that scarred all the Welsh Valleys. Well one early morning the cable snapped and several tons of cast iron bucket and slag practically demolished the house, took the roof right off, went through two floors and ended up in the kitchen. They moved to Caerphilly, sharpish.
There, of course, she eventually met my dad, which led to this little event in 1952. My Christening party in our garden in Caerphilly.
Now you can see that all of the folks in that picture are pretty old, except for my parents. Gramp Llewellyn on the left was already 90 there, and gramp Dan (the Welsh speaking one, looking like a pensive Woody Allen, on the right) had just retired from the Colliery aged 70. So I’m afraid that barring Comet strikes, unfortunate accidents and the like, given my gene-pool, you are likely to have to suffer my insane ramblings for another 30 years or so. Oh what joy I hear you all cry!
So please raise your glasses to a grand old Dame, the She Elephant of Heath Cardiff, my Mum. A lifetime of sparring with her verbally and mentally has made me the man I am today, and I love her to bits!
Click on the Pics to enlarge.