Happy St David's Day

Dyn da oedd Dewi

Dyn da oedd Dewi

Dyn da oedd Dewi

Dewi, Dewi Sant

Dewi, Dewi Sant

Outside the little cottage 

Where Dewi Sant was born

The cold wind it did grumble

And cheerless was the morn

But on dear Dewi’s cottage

The sun was bright and gleamed

And gentle were the breezes

Like summer so it seemed.

The above was sung by me on St David’s Day many years ago (as part of the school you understand, not as a solo) We went to a english speaking school, which is pretty much the norm in South Wales, but it meant that welsh was not really taught until you went to the big school (comprehensive). Even though most of the teaches spoke welsh, usually to gossip in front of a baffled class of children so they would not be understood. (We had, to be fair, been taught a little welsh which mainly centred around the farmyard, but ‘Mae'r mochyn yn y cwt’ (the pig is in the sty), doesn’t really crop up in conversation surprisingly.)

St David’s Day was an exception of course. On the week leading up to it we would learn songs and poems in both welsh and english. Then on the day itself a mini Eisteddfod (concert of poems and song) would be held. Each class would put forward a boy or girl to recite something in welsh to be judged by the teachers.

One year I remember that the boy from our class, who had been chosen to recite didn’t turn up so I had to do so instead (forever the understudy). I can remember standing in the school hall in my welsh costume and knee high white socks, because I had a growth spurt and now the skirt was above my knee. I tried not to sneeze at the daffodil I had pinned to my shawl and to ignore the little boy in the front row who had decided to start eating his leek, something which he would later regret. Then trying to ignore them all I took a deep breath and started the poem. It might have been an oversight on my teacher Mr Griffiths’ part, but the welsh poem was never explained to us in english, so I had no idea what I was saying or even if my pronunciation was making sense. Now the only thing I remember about that poem is that it was called ‘Dewi Sant’ (Saint David), then the rest is a blank. I came second in the end, losing out to someone from another class, but we didn’t get any prizes, just the honour of winning. Which is not as good as a prize when your eight years old and wearing an itchy welsh costume on a cold spring day.

The song above will be familiar to a lot of people who went to school in Wales. Although our school only trusted us to sing the chorus in welsh, which basically means 'David was a good man'. Having looked online I realise now that the english verse won’t be as familiar as the chorus. It seems to be a very general translation of the welsh, but with so many of our teachers having musical talents it doesn’t surprise me that they seemed to have written their own verse instead.

St David’s Day used to be a half day and is still in some schools. I used to run down the hill home, knowing that my mum would have welsh cakes on the stove hot plate that my dad made for her. They would be piled high on a plate and sprinkled with sugar or spread with salty welsh butter. It makes me smile now just to think of them.

Well this year I was going to make them and share the recipe with you but yesterday Swansea, as well as the rest of the UK had seen snow. Which meant that the general mass panic saw no bread or flour left on the shelves. So I had to buy these ones instead, sorry maybe next year when it is not -4°c on St David’s Day.
I’m off to eat welsh cakes and watch the snow.

Snuggle up and keep warm.
J & M
P.S. Oh but it feels like -15°c, I forgot to add the wind chill.