Sunday 23rd August

Oh look it's raining.

Both tired after yesterday. Together with 3 volunteers and 2 ponies we did pony rides at the Twm Sion Cati Festival all day. It was hard work, a shame that the Festival wasn't better attended but in the long run it probably worked out to our advantage as we had steady trade all day and we couldn't have coped with more than we had. A total of £94 including collection tins isn't bad really. Susie and Sophie coped quite well, in fact Susie had a good blast round the field afterwards as she was still full of beans and Sophie did well for her first outing.

We were cancelled for today, just as well really as the weather has turned foul again and we would have probably wasted our time standing about in the rain. So we have had a quiet day, just Adrian and myself, no volunteers and some space to breathe.

I decided to take myself off for a walk, going nowhere in particular, just needed to go somewhere on my own for a while so I put a map in my backpack along with a fleece and a waterproof (what else) and headed off. Didn't even have a mobile phone or any money now I come to think about it so it is just as well I came to no harm as I would have had no means of calling for help or money for a phone box, not that there were any where I ended up.

I walked for several miles, I guess with a vague thought about heading eventually for Lyn y Fan, nothing fixed about getting there, just the direction really. I stopped for a break and consulted my map to find that I wasn't all that far from where I have learned that the author of "The Wind in the Ash Tree", Janine MacMullen lives. At least I knew the me mentioning her in previous posts as being a bit of an inspiration.

Well, you have to go and check it out don't you so I set off down a very steep lane that I knew was going to feel a lot steeper when I was trying to climb back up. There was a drive about half way down the lane and I stood at the end of the drive and had a look. I couldn't see much and I would never have gone any further, she doesn't know me from Adam and anyway we crave our own privacy so respect other's. Certainly it was a white house behind a wall with several outbuildings. Couldn't initally see an ash tree until the breeze moved a sycamore to reveal a huge ash tree in the front garden. Even then I couldn't be sure, there are lots of ash trees in Wales after all.

I thought about moving on back up the lane; ok. it was probably her house, might never know different but I would assume so. Then just as I as turning away, the breeze moved another tree and I saw the wind vane on the chimney, a unicorn. That told me all I wanted to know. It is her house, I found it.

I stood there for some minutes, blatantly staring at the place, no one appeared to be about. Have to say at that moment, as I stood there I felt really strange. It was different to how I felt when I went to Thomas Hardy's house or Ann Hathaway's cottage or even when I went to Charles Dickens' house years ago. They were all famous authors, world famous and I doubt that Ms MacMullen has a following quite so large as any of them but I as still felt a bit humbled.

With things the way they are here at the moment, I didn't know if I should praise or curse her really. Perhaps I should look upon it as a bit of an omen that things will get better for us in the near future. Ms McMullen stuck it through good and bad times. We should do the same, things can only get better.