Moving house is both the best of times and the worst of times. When we decided, well over a year ago now, that we were ready to move, I don’t think I fully understood the total upheaval and emotional torture that lay ahead. My mother, in the midst of the madness said that the three […]
Category: The Cwtch
An Englishman’s home is his castle, but a Welsh lady’s home is her Cwtch.
One frosty morning last week I tentatively tiptoed up the icy path to a half-open front door. I gently tapped the wood with my knuckle and then turned the handle with my glove-covered hand. I called out the very first, “Hello?” and the house replied with a sun-filled silence. Empty; just the bare walls fluttering with […]