Llandegla Gardens in the Van

New Transport - approved!

We now have some new transport for our Nice Under Glass jaunts. Admittedly, when we saw the shiny white Toyota Hiace nestling in the foothills of Snowdonia our elderly companions were the last people on our minds. P and I had spend a brilliantly adventurous 10 days in a motorhome on our own driving from Sydney to Melbourne at the beginning of June and were now rather hooked. The new van we had found seemed perfect, but a bonus was that after the positioning of a small plastic step and a bit of persuasion (I am sure their curiosity to see inside helped) - Peggy and Mum were safely strapped in.

Perhaps its the addition of curtains, fridge and cupboards but they look right at home nestled in the back of the van. We could even boil up the kettle if we wanted and have our tea in a layby, but I had other plans today.

I am sure that everyone must have heard of the National Garden Scheme, but just in case you haven't,


the idea is that keen amateur gardeners open up their gardens and people to pay to go and look around - all for charity of course. Over 23M has been raised in the last 10 years - although it has been in existence since 1927. The idea of pottering around someone else's garden is quite appealing. Also, a sneaky part of you wonders if the day will ever come when your own horticultural abilities will produce a garden worthy of visitors... in our case I doubt it. However, I quietly tuck away the NGS in that little file in my mind marked 'Where to go on Sunday afternoons'... the possibilities are endless.

On Sunday 27th July the scheme was operating in the grounds of several houses in the village of Llandegla - including, I delighted to discover, some pensioners bungalows.

Despite being some 10 miles away, the village is well known locally as it has a huge forest with Mountain Bike trails - (there are also walks but a good friend and I got terribly lost there once and it put me off.) Llandegla is en-route to Bala and Llangollen (should you wish to go the pretty way), but us Wrexhamites rarely stop in the village which is some way off down a side road, so discovering an unspoilt picture perfect collection of houses adorned with flowers and obscure scarecrows was unexpected.

After parking the van, we paid £5 each (aggh! Peggy had whipped out her purse before we could stop her..). The gardens were pleasant and not too overwhelmingly tidy and unattainable. We were also pleased with the weather as it had been so hot in the week we remarked (several times) how pleasant it was to have a cool breeze... but still be in the sun. We also tried casually dropping the name of some of the plants into our chat, but Mum confessed "I only know daisies and buttercups" and Peggy admitted that her knowledge was limited to hydrangeas...

But we could notch this up as a positive experience: Mum had her stick which she could show to anyone who gave her a passing glance, Peggy saw someone she knew (her database of acquaintances is huge) and I had driven and parked the van without any problem. So we celebrated the success of the afternoon with the purchase of excellent cream scones to have with our with our (50p) tea in the Village Hall... now where's that plastic step?

Parkgate and its Mysterious Prom

My father's family were from Mancot so many of my memories of  days out with adults are of the Wirral Peninsula and the Dee Estuary area which is easily accessible, even I those far off days, via Queensferry. The Wirral is an area which has always had a certain charm, distinguished by lovely red sandstone houses and walls and many areas reputed to be 'posh' - the huge houses indicative of being owned by footballers and the very rich. But the place which fascinated me - in a scary way - was Parkgate.

The place has all the features one would associate with a seaside promenade. Parkgate Ice cream is famous and there are queues of people on fine days waiting to get their chance to lick a rum'n'raisin or raspberry ripple. Many benches line the prom and parking the car along the front on fine days has always been a challenge. The potted shrimps are a local delicacy and seagulls squawk and swoop over the area...... But instead of an expanse of sparkling blue ocean and the crash of waves opposite all this activity there is a large expanse of land populated by birds and vegetation.....

Parkgate before the water left.....

As a child, I remember seeing the hulks of boats which had been stranded there as the as if the waters of the Dee had overnight mysteriously decided to never return. As if, one day fishermen and holiday goers were enjoying the rich rewards that the sea had to offer and the next day... no water.

This, of course, is pure fantasy and the truth is that the water's departure was gradual. The port of Parkgate was once an embarkation point for Ireland and at the end 18th Century was a popular seaside resort. But the river started to silt up and became slowly became unusable as a Port and in 1928 grass was introduced to create marshlands which just stopped the water all together. One can imagine that people who made their living from the water watched in desperation as it became apparent that the waters absence would be permanent.

Lack of a watery view aside, it is still an interesting place to visit and perfect for a Sunday afternoon with elderly companions. Mum because it brought back memories and Peggy because it was a first for her. The 'prom' is of course flat and there are plenty of benches to sit on. Also if you care to stay awhile and look, many wonderful birds now inhabit the marshes.

As the front is now... a marshland haven for birds...
and elderly ladies seeking tea...

On fine days there also plenty of people for my Mum to accost with her increasingly bizarre conversation starters.... "I'm 92, you know..." or "She left a new butter dish there with my name on it".

There was even a rather good tea shop (called rather unwisely, I feel, given the proximity of the marshland) Mozkitos....all that is missing is, in fact, the sea. So we sit and pretend that the green marsh grass is yellow sand and the tide has only gone out to return soon and have a rather jolly time.

Parkgate is just 28 miles from Wrexham and can be reached via a pleasant drive through Chester or via Queensferry.

http://www.visitparkgate.co.uk/

Flowers for Mother's Day?

Its Mother's Day this weekend and I was almost knocked unconscious by the heady whiff of flowers as I entered the supermarket this afternoon. A huge array of blooms of every description await you this Saturday when you pop in for your Sunday roast. For flowers are the first resort of us offspring when it comes to this day (deigned by the unknown powers who control these things) that celebrates the person who bore us.

I do however, have a small dilemma on gifts for Mums, in that I don't always like to go to the entirely predictable. There are also quite a number of other people buying for each of the grannies and flowers are on the top of their lists. It has been known for flowers to be sent from Australia and Sweden so well connected (or should it be respected?) are my mothers.

Okay, pretty but predictable...but there's more....

So I have gone to the next resort of the unimaginative present buyer - M&S. I have bought Mum & Peggy gift vouchers (and oh, how pretty they are!), but told them that they are getting them in advance. I have also arranged to go to one of our favourite Nice Under Glass Sunday jaunts and that is the 2nd biggest M&S in the country. Not only do they get a voucher but the undiluted joy of retail therapy. So enormous is this M&S that we've been there 3 times and not managed to get upstairs yet.

M&S in Cheshire Oaks, Ellesmere Port opened to great local excitement a few years ago and is a fantastic place to go to - not just for the shopping but because it boasts that it is one of the largest sustainable retail stores in the world  http://plana.marksandspencer.com/we-are-doing/climate-change/cheshire-oaks

So it's a good Sunday Roast, then a ride down the M56 to the store, a good browse amongst the navy

I am a lucky Mum and Grandma too....

and white and comfy shoes, a swift survey of the fluffy cushions and leather armchairs, the purchase of a few ready meals and bagged salad all rounded off with a cup of tea. Perfect..... for some Mothers anyway....

(PS I have already had my flowery gift - and very beautiful they are too... thank you, my darlings...)

The Real 'Problem of Ageing'

I read an article (in the Guardian no less) called 'Embrace Your Years' Having spent a slightly

Slightly confused about our antics....

 extended time with my Mum over the Christmas season and come back from a trip to town with both of the old ladies, I was interested in what it had to say, as I feel that aging is one of the most challenging and sometimes frightening thing that most of us have to face. Indeed, said the blurb at the beginning of the article, 'Society has a deep fear of ageing'.

But I was disappointed. It went on to tell us that a study of 2,000 women worried about 'the signs of ageing' by 29 and that such 'fears' are commonly expressed by younger women than this. Adolescence using Botox, skin products and general hysteria all about those wrinkles. Eh? Wrinkles? Looking older? That, I feel, is the absolute last of your worries when you face advancing years.

Mum is (as she is never shy to tell us) 92. She lives alone, drives and does regular voluntary work, she reads - historical novels being her favourite- keeps up with the news and generally does all she can to stave off senility. A complete expert on the local National Trust property she still does tours and presents well. She long ago gave up fancy face creams or make up, (but incidentally looks at least 10 years younger than her age-but then after 80 who cares?). But she knows her memory is going. The frustration and fury in her when she misplaces yet another letter, forgets cancelling an


Mum (far right) is 92 but looks 80

appointment or loses her keys is so difficult to comfort.

At family parties over the Christmas season, she is of course the star, but she is on her own in her generation. She does not understand most of what we talk about - does not understand that in this new internet age we have access to any piece of information at our fingertips and stubbornly goes to the library to find out things. It is sometimes difficult, in the drunken and merry state we are in. There is a temptation to not take her seriously or listen properly to what she has to say. I believe she has long ago lost the ability to engage properly in conversations or understand what we are trying to tell her. She is in short, out on a limb at such get-togethers. But she bravely sits it out and goes around talking to everyone - still loving to be the centre of attention.

It was wonderful for her to have the entire extended family of 20 around - all  of her children alive and well with their various offspring to great grandchild level. But sadly, much of this is fading from her memory already and despite our plethora of smart phones, digital cameras and iPads we failed to take a proper photograph to help her remember.

My point about all this is that it seems that the word 'ageing' is most often referred to in the media in relation to looking good, keeping wrinkles away and keeping fit..... I think this is all a side issue to the real every day challenges and problems of being over 70. When (if) you reach my Mum's age, you will look back and thank the day that all you had to worry about was the odd grey hair, a few droopy bits around your jowls and a birthday suit in need of ironing.

World's End

For many years, Wrexham people have enjoyed the barren beauty of an area near to us called World's End. Not, as you might imagine, a place that is far away or perched on the edge of a cliff, but an area at the end of a rather attractive drive across moors into a valley, through woodland and crosses the Eglwyseg River by a ford, then goes on towards Pentre Dŵr, under the Horseshoe Pass, leading eventually to Llangollen or onto the Panorama in Trevor.

Early August, still very hot and we decided that we needed somewhere a little cooler. The hot spell over the summer was starting to get my elderly companions down. It is strange that we all seem to love and long for heat, but when it comes it's as popular as a man in a dress shop. So I looked to the mountains - (or what laughingly passes for mountains here).

Minera 'mountain' is 456 metres high, but it has a special place in our hearts as we can see its profile across the valley from our house. It has a dour appearance being mostly covered in gorse and bracken but acts as our personal barometer as varying degrees of its visibility warn of incoming squalls of rain or storms.

The distant but ever present,
ambitiously named Minera Mountain

Much of the history of Minera can be read elsewhere, but it is always a joy to take Mum & Peggy out as they have their own memories and perspective of the area having both lived here all their lives. They may not always get everything in the right order, but it is great to have this closeness to a bygone era.

They told me that in 1940 German aircraft on their way back from Liverpool jettisoned their bombs onto the mountain setting it on fire. This story is born out and detailed here and it would seem that at one stage, 28 square miles of the mountain were alight. The footnote is that the Germans thought that the Monsanto Chemical factory had been raised to the ground - but it was quite safe (only our recent recession could bring about an end to that).

You start the journey to World's End by taking the Ruthin Road exit off the A483 and driving upwards through the large village of Coedpoeth with its bakeries and the houses built from large tan and black stones which are so typical of the place. Turn left on reaching the Five Crosses and take the road which hairpins past the village of Minera (and its lovely community-run pub-Tyn-Y-Capel) to sharp right which is signposted New Brighton.

Then it is a lovely exhilarating drive over the moors on a single track road. This climbs steeply, and as it does it reveals fantastic views of Wrexham town to the East. There are various hazards of unpredictable sheep and twists and bends in the road - so it is quite a stimulating drive. Up at the

Cool at last - on the road to World's End

top we find a rare parking place (that is not a passing place!) and quickly take this photo. It was quite cool and breezy and for a dreadful moment I thought this wind might blow them both clean off into the valley below - but they are made of sterner stuff!

The drive ended on a rather sober note as we realised that parking up by the river past the ford was no longer allowed and the old gate which was an bedstead and Elizabethan Farm House, Plas Ucha (built in the 1563) were no longer visible. Now you have no choice but to keep on going without stop until you reach Llangollen. Such is progress..... but we smile and enjoy our afternoon anyway.

Rocking at the Aqueduct...

At last British summer has gone against type. The sun has come out, a Brit wins Wimbledon and England wins the Ashes. We just need snow on Christmas Day and Jeremy Clarkson to take up riding push bikes and I will start to believe in miracles.

Before the fireworks......Sue, Martin, Kellie and Myles

So the setting for 'Under the Arches' music and lighitng event at the rather unique Poncysyllte Aqueduct on Friday could not have been better. Although the action started at 7pm there was various musical entertainment from early evening. We arrived at 8pm to settle ourselves down with wine and beer and a bottle of something refreshing for our designated driver, my sister Sue. Children had set up impromptu games of footie and adults were already well settled after various portable repasts and enjoying the music. A happy atmosphere abounded in anticipation of a great night.....

The aqueduct was was declared a World Heritage Site in 2009. 'So what?'I hear you ask. Well, other World Heritage Sites include the Taj Mahal, The Great Wall of China and the Pyramids, so it is in illustrious company. Having grown up with this Telford-built structure (which has 19 arches rising majestically over the valley at a height of 126ft) it's sudden fame was somewhat of a surprise to locals. A bit like discovering your naughty little sister is secretary of the United Nations........ But we are all kind of proud of it.

As the last of the daylight left, lasers and coloured lights started playing across the stately arches. An excited Myles (10) and his equally excited Nan (over 10) speculated on another light which was hovering red and green light in the sky above the crowd. This turned out to be a remote controlled camera taking arial shots, but was none the less exciting for that....

Then suddenly 2 huge fans of flame burst out as the music from Limited Series and later The Big Beat played along. The light and fire show gained momentum and culminated in some lively fireworks over the stage to end the show at 11pm.

As we trailed back up the hill amongst the excited, chattering crowd homewards, I wondered what that maverick Mr Telford would have made of it. Would he have baulked at this intrusion into the usual stately serenity of this valley of the Dee? I don't think so.......I think he would have been rocking along with the rest of us....

A Day to Remember

On a glorious April Saturday in the middle of the magnificence of Snowdonia our beautiful daughter Natalie (Tali) married her wonderful fiancée, James Ware.

We had our doubts about lots of things that they wanted to do - the remote venue, the bright green and yellow colour scheme and the huge guest list of friends from all over the world, but they did it their way. All the planning, discussing, ordering, speculating, inviting, beautifying, emailing and telephoning finally paid off and it all magically came together to become a truly memorable day.

It had been an exciting time and for months myself, Peggy and Mum have been sourcing the right outfits, hats, handbags and shoes. It's not been easy. What on earth can you wear to a wedding on a campsite, in a barn and on a field? I made my plans clear right away; I have only one daughter and I was going to be in full 'mother of the bride' regalia. So hats were to be large, shoes high and handbags decorative. So Peggy and Mum followed suite and both looked quite wonderful.

Correctly guessing that sleeping in bell tents was not a good accommodation choice for her grandmas, Natalie had sourced a lovely country house hotel nearby. Peggy and Mum were able to relax in lovely surroundings and over the weekend had the opportunity to sit up talking with other wedding guests. One night being asked to switch off the lights before they went to bed as it was past midnight.

Other members of the family stayed in holiday cottages nearby, this meant that I had my sisters, their children and my son, his partner and babies all close at hand. The fun we had socialising together, walking and talking before the wedding was a real time to remember.

As Saturday dawned - (the fixing up of the barns, setting up of the 5 tier cake I had made, the bars and booze, a very special marquee, bunting and the arranging of what seemed like 20,000 daffodils had been completed the day before by an army of friends) it was clear that it was going to be a gloriously sun-drenched day. The morning of the wedding the men went walking with the babies and the rest of us sat with the bride discussing whether she could get her vows out without crying with the emotion of it all. My son's partner Nina a yoga teacher was able to calm the bride with an impromptu session.

Then all too soon it was time to travel the 2 miles to the venue. I was resplendent in purple and the aforesaid large hat and felt rather like royalty as we swept into the car park to see so many smiling faces.

The ceremony went well with no tears...well that's not quite true. My son Nathan gave the performance of his life with a poem containing so many warm references to their gregarious Liverpool life that all of us had to reach for the tissues (even the registrar). It was particularly poignant for so many of the guests as Natalie and James have for the past 5 years run a household which was always buzzing with people as they held parties, Carol Singing sessions and dinner parties. This day not only marked the beginning of their lives together, but also the leaving of Liverpool and this crowd of friends as they start their married life in Copenhagen.

Mum, Peggy, me and Natalie on her beautiful Wedding Day-
memorable for all the right reasons

Then man and wife made their exit down the aisle skipping hand in hand to the riotous cheers and stamping feet of their guests. Outside to the accompaniment of their friends The Loose Moose String Band and they expressed the joy of their union by dancing on a nearby hillock as we sipped Prosecco and cheered.

The rest of the day passed in a delightful haze of music, food, drinking, dancing, cheering and talking. Some highlights - the father of the bride's speech (a huge success after a lot of nervous planning), the stamping of feet to encourage the bride and groom to kiss on the table top, all the men in the room lining up to kiss Tali when James left the room (a Danish tradition), the band playing four hours straight and the atmosphere of joyous partying as strangers and friends were united in their happiness for the couple as we danced until our feet ached.

It was lovely to see Mum and Peggy enjoy themselves with their families around them. Widows for many years, I wonder if they each missed their husbands? I pondered sadly how proud Noel and Gwyn would have been of their granddaughter. My dad would have loved the occasion's quirkiness and the socialising and Gwyn would have loved the venue and the presence of his small great grandchildren. Then I wondered whether of all the weddings Mum & Peggy had attended in their long lives whether this one will remain in their hearts and their memories as special? I rather think that it will......

All photographs  Alice Myers