Thursday, 21 June 2018

A sense of place

Although we’ve lived in North Wales for well over three years now it’s only in the past few months since we’ve opened The Forge that we’re feeling like we’re starting to belong. I’m not sure what people thought we’ve been doing all this time holed up on the hill, but now the sign is up and since we featured on the front page of the local rag, we’ve had people dropping in, stopping us on the street to ask us how it’s all going and waving enthusiastically to us as we pass in the car. Here’s a few other indicators that perhaps, just maybe, we have arrived….

Hot off the press

… you start exchanging academic papers about Iron Age hill forts with the farmer next door, who, not only actually comes into the kitchen but also accepts and drinks a ‘paned’ (cup of tea) – there really is no greater sign of acceptance in Welsh farming circles 😊

… you find yourself having hilarious farm-machinery related bants with the farmer who sorted your fencing whilst buying your hen food at the feed store.

… your husband is hobbling about like a dog on three legs because he’s joined the local squash ladder with his new buddies and thinks he’s 41 going on 24…

….. you dispense with cash altogether and instead start swapping wild trout for wild rabbits and chilli plants for sunflower seedlings. It’s the new green economy peeps!

…you start trading piglet rearing (and ‘dispatching’) tips with your girlfriends in the pub instead of ogling the bar staff or discussing Love Island, *sigh* how times have changed…

…..  your Facebook feed is increasingly filled with names of people who identify themselves through the name of their farm or their trade rather than an actual surname, as in ‘Dai Henblas’, ‘Eifion Turkeys’ and ‘Will the Milk’. Turns out old Welsh village traditions DO translate into the digital age…

  the local butcher starts giving you, FOR FREE, his most coveted pie emblazoned with a massive ‘K’ on the top (turns out it stands for kidney… err, yum?) because we have bought so many lambs’ eyeballs and testicles from him for our stag do ‘bushtucker’ trials. Better than a loyalty card any day of the week!

A sense of place

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