IT was wonderful to [...].
IT was wonderful to see Conwy so busy with the food festival at the weekend and there was a lovely atmosphere on the quay with hundreds of people milling around eating everything from ice creams to bison burgers.
The sun was shining, people were smiling and the smells and sounds on the quay made me wish that there were more festivals organised for our lovely town.
My only disappointment was not being able to get any pickling onions from the greengrocer but I went home happy with a loaf of bread and six fresh eggs.
I had every intention of going to see the light show in the evening but I fell asleep on the sofa as is my wont these days and missed it completely so had to make do with looking at it on You Tube.
It would be nice if someone could organise a Christmas market like they have in so many places these days. I'm sure it would be a roaring success and might even bring back the spirit of the season to old Scrooges like me.
When I got home from the festival my beloved was home and in his usual position in the living room - laid down on the hearth rug stuck in front of the idiot's lantern watching a mind numbing film; I made him some lamb chops for his lunch and gave him a Daim bar to which he is very partial; I wonder why they changed the spelling and why, come to that, change Marathons to Snickers and good old Opal Fruits to Starburst.
I still insist on calling them by the name I have called them since they first came out in the late 50s; they appeared on the shelf of Pentrecwrt post office alongside the packets of sweet tobacco and sweet cigarettes and now long-gone chocolate bars like Five Boys, Milk Tray bar, Fry's chocolate cream fruit flavours and the old favourites still going strong, like Crunchie and Turkish Delight, which my dad remembered eating when he was young.
Turkish delight is still my favourite and though I'm not supposed to eat any sweets I do occasionally succumb to temptation. The last one I bought was 67p and if my memory serves me well that amounts to around 13/2 in old money which is more than twice the amount of pocket money my father used to give me when I was in college.
I don't know if it's age that jades the palette but chocolate just doesn't taste the same as it used to.
On Sunday nights my dad and I would sit down to watch the tiny black and white telly, him with a Walnut Whip and me with a Toffee Crisp, and the chocolate tasted wonderful but it was small comfort because there was a yawning great hole in our lives.
My father was broken hearted and remained that way until he died. It was a hole far too big for either of us to block with any amount of chocolate bars