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

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!

Caramac bars

 

There's nothing like confectionery to take you straight back to your past. Proust may have had his madeleines but yesterday I spotted and bought some Caramac bars in Azda. Tasted so wonderful I ate the lot - four bars - I always think there are more interesting things to cause guilt than what one eats so I remain unrepentant and smiling. I am pretty sure Caramac used to be called chocolate, but is no longer - presumably it doesn't qualify under EU regs and is probably well dodgy in terms of  non-nutrients but tasted delicious!
While looking for a picture I discovered Caramac icecream bars and Kitats - such unrealised dreams! There were also search suggestions for Caramac cakes, recipes and Easter eggs - what a World!


I also found this picture of 60s confectionary - a jigsaw from the Robert Opie collection. Robert is the son of the couple who collected the games, language and lore of children.
Wiki -Iona and Peter Opie
He had an amazing museum in Gloucester called the "Package" which had wonderful collections of - packaging! I seem to remember reading it had all started with a Munchie packet and I was right: Robert Opie's museum info

So what do you remember? Many old favorites are now back and some never went away but may have changed names. I loved the shilling bars of Cadbury's Milk tray where you got a pretend box of chocs in a bar. I also remember being given a one layer 1/4lb box of Milk Tray - not seen less that 1/2lb or equivalent for years.

Although I find marzipan quite sickly I seem to remember the ratio to marzipan and Cadburys chocolate worked for me and it's one that's not been resurrected. And I'm sure Mackintosh used to do a soft caramel in chocolate bar for 2d (now I'm showing my age!) that was shaped like a long oval but indented so it went in in the middle and seemed rather bone-like in shape to me.
The current Cadbury's small flat bar were once thruppenny bars and there were smaller tuppeny and penny bars available. I also liked the Cadbury's minatures which I seem to recall being known as "flat 20s" when in boxes of 20.

And of course there was the classic Fry's Five Boys which rivalled the Cadbury's bars until they got taken over by what was once Cadbury's and is now a massive food empire.

I was more into chocolate than sweets, but did like sherbert - the coloured crystals rather than the white powder you got in Sherbert dips. The only way to eat it was with a well-licked finger which would then change colour...

I also remember when Lucozade was thought to be for people who were ill and I got weird looks when I drank it  regularly in the seventies. I once took Lucozade to a party and my friend John Taylor got all nostalgic then polluted it with whisky! I was obviously not the liveliest of party-goers...

Now there are all these nostalgia/sweetie shops springing up everywhere it's easy to trip downthis particular memory lane.

A potted historie...

I was at secondary school with a girl whose Grandfather was from Aberkenfig. I asked her to find out what he knew about my family. This is what I learnt. My Grandfather married a woman from the coaltip (Llanelli) and my Dad went away in the forces and came back with a foreign woman (Maltese, from Egypt - it's complicated...!)

I love the summary of our history - I guess not the most common background for an Aberkenfig family...

Family History: My father's family

Several years ago I asked my Auntie Gladys (Dad's sister) about her family and wrote this based on what she said and bits I knew. The stuff about my grandparents is based on what my Gran told Gladys:

 

Alice Maud Llewellyn and Hubert Gunston were my paternal grandparents

Hubert was from Gloucester and ran away when he was 13. He went to sea and lied about his age. He had brother Ernie who was a postman.

Hubert was known as ‘Fiery Bert’ and was small but fierce.

Bert took lodgings with May Pullman in Llanelli.

Alice Llewellyn was from Llanelli and told her daughter Gladys that she dreamt of a man with brass buttons and a twirly moustache and it seemed that that is what she got!

Alice had brother Will who was a blacksmith. Brother Dai was lay preacher and sister Emmy was tailoress.

Bert  was possibly a wagon repair man. He was with Steelworks and may have been an inspector. Bert quarrelled a lot.

Bert and Alice moved on to Swansea, then Aberkenfig.

Lived at no. 31 or 21 the moved to 11 Dunraven Street.

Their children were:

Florence May

Harold William

Ernest Reginald (my father)

Gladys Elizabeth

Florrie’s children were Shirley, Rita and Jeanette:

Shirley married Ken and their children were Julie, Steve and David

Rita married Cliff and had Wakely, Guy and Victoria

Jeanette married Ian and their children were  Graham, Richard and Stuart

Harold and Gladys never married nor had children.

Ernest (my father) married Daria Molinari and had three children: Diane, Sheilagh and Irene.

The top picture is my maternal Grandmother with Harold as a baby. Harold was (we thought) the eldest, but apparently not. Because I've been writing  about Aberkenfig and came across the 1911 census website I decided to check out the family presence in 1911
I knew my Grandparents were living here and found them as expected - but also what would have been my uncle - named Bert after his father -  born in 1910! He didn't survive to overlap with my father and known siblings as far as I am aware - but what a surprise. Of couse child mortality was high in those days. I know that my Molinari grandparents lost a little girl - Emily - but didn't know about a lost Gunston...

This is the link for census: 

1911census

 The second picture is my father (sat on the right)  looking amazingly cool when having your photo taken was an event!