Merry Vintage Christmas

With a few ideas about get to started on how to begin celebrating the season; here it is. It is all about gathering family and friends, staying at home and sharing the best Christmas yet!

I will be featuring a few of my favourite table collections (which I think you’ll love too) that encourages you to create a relaxed food sharing experience this party season.

Under the Christmas tree, place thoughtful gifts for loved ones to open on Christmas morning – from popular and meaningful Vintage collectibles for gifting like a piece of Bone China, a Victorian tea sets and lots of blue and white and coffee mugs. Place candy and sweets in a cup, a candle, Ceylon Tea, or even a gift card.

It adds to the classic gift. Use a vintage; mix and match. You never know when someone’s vintage might be the gift that makes a difference in someone’s Christmas this year!

Pictured Above

One of a kind Vintage tea set by Baker Bros Meir bone China. A Victorian Floral Gilded 10 piece Tea Cup trio’s with extra Tea Side Plates. Made in England from the 1920’s. Back stamped.

http://stores.ebay.co.uk/littlebitoftexasinswansea/

Happy Thanksgiving in America


Can you feel the weather changing? I can and it beginning to feel like the holidays here in Swansea Wales. And yes, of course it is raining! But nevertheless, yesterday I ventured out to visit the shops and they all have their Christmas decorations on now and they are so beautiful! It makes me want to start decorating.

Except when I returned to my car; I was handed a parking violation for going 30 minutes over my time limit! It’s a no wonder anyone can get any shopping done! It might be unfortunate, but those Christmas collectables might have to stay on the shelf a little longer. Maybe, Swansea could suspend parking violations in the Quadrant throughout the holidays. Is’t that a great idea? Well, we will we never know because I don’t think it will ever happen . So I will have to start from scratch with all my Christmas decorations purchase

The fact that I am even here in Swansea, it still simply amazes me. After all; who moves to Swansea from Texas? Hardly  anyone! At least that’s what everyone here tells me; especially if your a girl and from Dallas, Texas. It’s true I was born there and sometimes we just have to take a chance to see what will happen not really knowing what the outcomes might be. But now that I’m here in Swansea; and i love it here and I’d do it again.

Yesterday, it was Thanksgiving Day in America. Sometimes people ask me if I miss it. My reply is; “I miss people, but not things.” Besides I’m happy here with Jim and the doggies.  Some days the past is still a blur and there are future and still unwritten; I don’t think we are meant to know everything until it happens. I think anticipation demands that you look towards the future and take chances.

Although sometimes my emotions get in the way. Like the first time I arrived in the UK, landing at Heathrow…good heavens! I was so lost and overwhelmed with Gates and terminals only allowing access to certain trains, buses and taxi’s. Oh boy was I proved wrong whereas I thought Dallas/Ft. Worth International was big. Driving in Texas is so much easier because the roads are so wide; which makes it easier to get to all the shops to do your christmas shopping.

Christmas shopping in America is so much easier too!  The day after thanksgiving is Black Friday and the malls every where are  usually open by 7:00 A.M. in the morning and close at 12:00 P.M. during this  holiday week end.

Black Friday in America has lots of sales and buy-one-get-one free schemes. Plus, in Texas you don’t have to pay for parking and worry about how long you leave your car parked as long as you are shopping.

But I’m here in Swansea now and I love it and nothing seems to get in the way of reality. Some days I go from being over- confident and strong-willed, to warm and open-minded, to less tense and less apprehensive.
I love the beauty, it’s culture and its lovely history; even in its vastness and in spite of everything; I’ve always wondered if the destiny is a matter of chance or if due to forces unknown… Yes, I believe it is as real as we are only if we give a little, take chances of bits and pieces of dreams.

Making our ideals, desires, fears, memories; living the history. May it’s just my view looking out of window from an American girl from Texas, discovering Swansea.

Just me and Jim together is perfect; the way we’d found each other from the beginning, the way we always find the path in our particular universe.
 Where love us the the truth, or as close to the truth than I can say, certain things are beyond any understanding. All I know is you don’t have yo try so hard when you love someone so much.

Http://don’t-try-so-hard.myshopify.com where two creatures working as one unified body.
We were meant to be. Like two flames unite and blend into one.
 Something so big that never get fully describe, at least not in my lifetime, nor in eternity.

Happy Thanksgiving to all. I am thankful for my new family here in Wales and I love you all and miss my Kids, family and Friends in America.

South Wales…Land of Poets

De Cymru- Tir Beirdd

“The old land of my ancient fathers so dear to me…

Land of poets and the singer; famous men of renown,

Owain Glyndwr, Llywelyn and Arthur; the brave warriors , and patriot beholden 

For freedom settled this Welsh land, shedding blood for thee. 


Home, home , true am I to home and free

While such a wall so pure

May the old language. 


Old mountainous Wales , paradise of the bard,

Every valley, every cliff, to me is beautiful,

Through patriotic feeling, so charming,

Its streams and rivers to me. 


If the enemy violated my country underfoot

The old language of the Welsh is as alive as ever

Spirit was not hindered by the treacherous hand

Nor silenced the harp of my country. 

~ Unknown

Special Thanks to Jim H. For the beautiful photos


Welsh Translation 

Mae hen wlad fy nhadau yn annwyl i mi 

Gwlad beirdd a chantorion, enwogion o fri

Ei gwrol ryfelwyr, gwladgarwyr tra mad 

Tros ryddid gollasant eu gwaed. 

Gwlad, gwlad, pleidiol wyf i’m gwlad 

Tra mor yn fur i’r bur hoff bau 

O bydded i’r hen iaith barhau. 

Hen Gymru fynyddig, paradwys y bardd 

Pob dyffryn, pob clogwyn i’m golwg sydd hardd 

Trwy deimlad gwladgarol, mor swynol yw si 

Ei nentydd, afonydd, i mi. 


Os treisiodd y gelyn fy ngwlad tan ei droed 

Mae hen iaith y Cymry mor fyw ag erioed 

Ni luddiwyd yr awen gan erchyll law brad 

Na thelyn berseiniol fy ngwlad. 


Conwy Wales

The Ruin

Wondrous is this wall-stead, wasted by fate.
Battlements broken, giant’s work shattered.
Roofs are in ruin, towers destroyed,
Broken the barred gate, rime on the plaster walls gape, torn up, destroyed,

consumed by age. Earth-grip holds the proud builders, departed, long lost,

and the hard grasp of the grave, until a hundred generations

of people have passed. Often this wall outlasted,

hoary with lichen, red-stained, withstanding the storm,

one reign after another; the high arch has now fallen.
The wall-stone still stands, hacked by weapons,

by grim-ground files.
Mood quickened mind, and the mason,

skilled in round-building, bound the wall-base,

wondrously with iron.

Bright were the halls, many the baths,

High the gables, great the joyful noise,

many the mead-hall full of pleasures.

Until fate the mighty overturned it all.
Slaughter spread wide, pestilence arose,

and death took all those brave men away.
Their bulwarks were broken, their halls laid waste,

the cities crumbled, those who would repair it

laid in the earth. And so these halls are empty,
and the curved arch sheds its tiles,

torn from the roof. Decay has brought it down,

broken it to rubble. Where once many a warrior,

high of heart, gold-bright, gleaming in splendour,

proud and wine-flushed, shone in armour,
looked on a treasure of silver, on precious gems,

on riches of pearl…

in that bright city of broad rule.

  

Stone courts once stood there, and hot streams gushed forth,

wide floods of water, surrounded by a wall,
in its bright bosom, there where the baths were,

hot in the middle. 

Hot streams ran over hoary stone

into the ring. 

  

“The Ruin is a fragmentary poem found in Exeter, Cathedral Chapter Library, MS 3501, the Exeter Book.”

The Old English text is taken from the electronic version of the poems of the Exeter Book available at the Labyrinth.  

Translated by Siân Echard, University of British Columbia. 

Swansea Bay ~  South Wales Evening Post

Swansea Bay (WelshBae Abertawe)

On the southern coast of Wales

Where five rivers flow through it

Banking into the bay, out into the Irish Sea

And all the upper reaches of the Bristol Channel

Experiencing one of the largest tidal ranges 

In the entire world.

 

Maybe missing a place,  are about the places that call you back. Like the feeling you have to return, or go there again or else you you might die. Wales is that place for me. 
Even though we had our writing; We write everyday, but I think it’s was our way communicating and our way of staying connected. 
What I miss walks in the park and long conversation, lots of beach time, cooking, dining out, cooking, reading and writing everyday, there’s lots to see and everywhere to go to take lots of photographs, and day trips, shopping in the Markets and Sunday fairs and river cruises down  the Tawe River to Landovey.
Wales is a place of bed & breakfast stays and morning coffee, Sunday paper, galleries and museums, and long weekends in London with you. Weekend drives to the mountains or all day at the beach. I never did get bored hanging out.
 
Maybe take a antique road trip to find a treasure or something to set our heart afire. I can hear your sweet words of excitement when you do. 
 
I am already almost ready to return to the the British Isle’s. To begin a life long romance with life in Wales. For this and all the summers to come. Looking forward, maybe see you next Sunday.
 
All I know is that, its everything that feels right in this world. 

23 startling pictures which show this isn’t just a bay, it’s Swansea Bay | South Wales Evening Post.

Letters To Cymru

 goat-and-sheep-friends
You said to write down my thoughts, to let you know how I’m doing. I’m missing you, that’s what I aim not to do. How am I?….I’m fine. 
How lovely and sweet is your skin… I taste you with with each glance of my eyes. It makes me shiver inside. When you sleep and we are connected. I see myself lost in thoughts of you. 
How lovely to be able to sleep again. I’m tired and I’m weary of waiting. Just when your eyes are closed, you know how you mouth breathes and you drewl from the corner of your mouth and then wipe it on the covers.  
I wished I could sleep like that again to reach your shoulders, to touch your hair, to feel your breath with my spit on your pillow. 
I wished I could wake you up with a kiss. Just as quickly as blinking eyes. 
Would you discover if it was really me or pretend you were dreaming then snort and close your eyes real fast again. 
Would you let me fall in love with me inside your mind?Would you make us together in your dreams? Would you wish to close your eyes to see us together while you are awaken? 
Smoke in bed, bring me tea?
I know, we will be together, soon as though we’ve never  been apart  by now. Time has been slow but life is running so fast. Faster than I can keep up with. 
I am trying to be, everything you think I ought to be, to get away from here; and back to my beautiful Wales.  
There seems no escape: you are always by my mind, always so quiet, so serious, suck solitary… I am very proud of you for staying strong. 

You make me stronger. You are so great and so strong, I know while its hard to sleep, to eat anything, but candy you know makes me feel better.

If I could, I would love the way you’ve held my hand, and guided me all the way.

Thank you for watching out for me and adoring me the way I do you. I want to follow in your steps; I want to put my fingers between yours. 
I want to put my lips between yours, I want to taste your flavour. We’re both a little fragile still. 
I hope you can wait a bit longer. I miss your moves, your gazes, your words, your voice and your breath. 
You could easily read the poetry I try to make up in my head. 

I will always be watching you, always paying attention to you because you’re my passion, and my beloved.

My feelings, the feeling, about you. I adore you.

I love you, Cymru.

Love Letters to Cymru

IMG_0544

You are nature to me…
In the softest way, against breezes
Against the sands, you are my comfort
Lover and Provider
Unidentifiable source of comfort
I know you genderless, formless

You are against the mossy heaths of Cymru
In the daffodils, in the folk songs
Elevate and Alleviate
My postmodern mind but you call to me
I know you through music, through the stories

You are nature to me
In the softest way, in the most tender way
A tear blends in quill ink
Deep within the roots of names
I know you are there;
You make me better than I am.

-unknown