Local tourism - St John the Divine, Aberkenfig

My Backyard/Garden!

I love being a tourist and as I often say - even in my own backyard. Not done that literally but have enjoyed exploring Aberkenfig anew. And have now (literally) been a tourist in my own street. 

There is an 18th century Church in Wales church at end of my street. My father's family were nominally Protestant and my grandparents are there somewhere in the churchyard. As the daughter of a Maltese Catholic I was brought up Catholic.

St John the Divine, Aberkenfig

In my youth, Catholics were discouraged from going to churches of other denominations - I used to get "permission" to attend church parades when I was in the St John Ambulance Brigade and people did similar for weddings, christenings and funerals - especially if one had a more old-fashioned Parish Priest who took these things seriously and we did have such a priest. So although I used to play in the churchyard, I have only one memory of entering St John's.

Another blast from the past - In days of fridges with small freezer boxes and  before freezers were common-place buying ice-cream from an ice-cream van was more common-place. And sometimes we'd buy a dish of ice-cream - just take a dish and buy so many portions. I was collecting a dish of ice-cream when I dropped the glass dish. I was probably quite upset and the local Vicar offered to show me the harvest festival display in the church. All very respectful and kind but I remember being torn by need to be polite to a grown-up and worrying about my immortal soul if I went into a Protestant church without permission. In those days Catholics (to my knowledge) didn't "do" Harvest so was very intrigued. I did go - didn't know how to say no - but don't remember any details. And until this week that was my only recollection of entering the church.

Now that ecumenical thinking is more the norm my Mother had been there several times while "doing the rounds" but I'd not done so. All the churches in the village are kept locked but I was passing St. John's after a service and took opportunity for quick peep. I was kindly given a tour by Diana Wood - Sub Warden (Hon). It's a lovely church with thoughtful modernisation so back of church is now community space with quite cosy church area that can be combined as needed. There is a rather nice wrought metal Stations of the Cross that is now in the Lady Chapel. I'd not realised that before the houses were built (end of 50s) the Vicarage was joined by a path to the church.

There's a nice PP presentation with pictures here:

St Johns Church PowerPoint

And some background to the larger picture regarding this and neighbouring churches:

LBA Parish

Roasties p.s.

My Mum was te melt-in-the mouth roastie maker!

Talking of roasties...

...this is a fictional account of my Mother's roast potatoes I put in a short story...

They always had a take away in the evening. James could put together practically any dish they could think of but he couldn't re-create the traditional Sunday roast that both their mothers turned out practically on automatic pilot. There was something about their ancient roasting tins and overcooking that produced the most succulent roasts. James would never dream of overcooking his veg but somehow his mother's overcooked cabbage seemed right with her brand of crisp roast potatoes and gravy. Karen's mother would start her roast at some unearthly hour of the morning and cook it on such a low light that at first James had been worried about food poisoning despite Karen's reassurances. He'd wondered if the Davies’s had developed a natural immunity but now he was as hooked as Karen on her mother's melt-in-the-mouth roasts and the soggiest, softest but most succulent, flavoursome roast potatoes and parsnips in the world.

Another Proustean moment - butter wrapper...

Was roasting a chicken today and didn't have much oil so basted with combination of oil and butter.

Unusually I had solid butter as I'd bought for cooking - usually use the spreadble type in a tub.

Went to check chicken and it seemed a little dry so added last of butter  and as it was last of pack smeared it on with wrapper and suddenly remembered my Mum sometimes cooking poultry with the butter wrapping over breast of bird to keep moist so did the same.

Sadly I can't do my roasties like hers, but frozen roasties smeared with fresh cooking juices are pretty good!

When she first came to Wales (from Egypt) my Mum nearly caused an International Incident. Dad had a Yorshire friend who went on about the delights of Yorshire pudding. The first time my Auntie Gladys made them for my Mum she was really disappointed by their ordinariness after the build-up - Not the way to get on with your new sister-in-law!