Dydd Gwŷl Dewi Sant hapus!


So today is St David's day. What's that? You've never heard of this fella? Well, last years post was very informative and you can find it here

No, this post is to grump. Wales may not be the biggest constituent country of the UK but it's a mighty fine place to live and beautiful to boot. So today I AM celebrating St David's day because I live in Wales. I would celebrate St George's day because I'm English but I don't cos it's Dusband's birthday that day so we celebrate that instead.

I don't celebrate St Andrew's day because I'm not Scottish and I don't celebrate St Patrick's day because I'm not Irish. And no I don't consider you to be Scottish or Irish if your great, great grandparent was. I consider myself to be English because I was born in England.

I consider my mother to be English because she was born in England. I consider my grandmother to be English because she was born in England (I think) but I do consider my great grandmother to be Scottish because she was born in Scotland.


I know I may have just offended half of the United States but if the past 4 generations of your family were born in the States then I consider you American. Not Irish.

Funny enough we don't get that heritage business here, maybe because the Brits are a mongrel nation to begin with. A bit of Viking, a bit of Norman, a bit of Celt.

Anyway, grumping about heritage aside, I am also annoyed that no sooner was Christmas 'over' then the Valentine's crafts started appearing on blogs and no sooner was Valentine's over St Patrick's crafts started appearing. Come on people, is there anything you don't feel the need to 'celebrate'?


Maybe it's the days we don't celebrate that we should. The little boys last night who were so excited to be playing frisbee that they couldn't stop jumping up and down with glee. Or maybe the little girl who doesn't talk to us telling us about her birthday party last night. Those, my good friends are things to celebrate. Not days that once long ago may have had some significance and now we only continue them for fear of being left behind.


Normal service will resume tomorrow once I've finished eating my leeks and admiring my daffodils!

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  1. Our maternal grandmother was born beneath a gypsy caravan on the side of a road in Caddington.

    Our paternal grandmother was born in England, but I cannot recall where. I would presume Markyate as that is where our paternal great-grandparents lived.

    Our maternal grandfather was Scottish.


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