Fwd: Des produits originaux pour soutenir la bonne cause !

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European Community

First we had the Celtic European community then there was the Roman European community followed by the German European community; The Germans split into 3: England; France and the Holy Roman Empire; there was much movement and interchange, particularly between the former 2 until they settled into autonomous independent states. Not satisfied with what they had, they each had a dream of creating a world in its own image with their benevolent god kings, so there was an English world, a French world and a German world, and each one saw it as its duty that the true word be spread and that their malevolent rivals the big bad wolves be stopped in their gluttonous ways, wars ensued but civilization would win out in the end; unfortunately they were each mirror images of the other. One day one of them went too far so the others got together and put an end to its evil ways with the result we are back to an ever expanding version of European Community no. 3, the god kings have in the main been brushed away to be replaced by committees, the irony being that the chief international exponent of committees, Cymru/Wales, there right through the whole process from beginning to end has not been asked to the table, access denied. European from the beginning, subsumed by England, the door is no longer locked, only on the latch, with an effort it can be opened but have we the will and the strength left. 

Sadorn/Sadwrn/Saturday/Samedi

The alarm rang at 6.30 a.m., I dressed, ate breakfast, ablutions done, had a look around to see that nothing was being left behind, stuck a few bottles of non-alcoholic beer into a bag in case of thirst, my being diabetic I am often thirsty, then went to fetch my hand truck so that I needn't leave my photos at morning's end to fetch my car, unfortunately a tyre was punctured, I took it anyway; once there I set up my tables, and as soon as this was done I sold three to an artist who bought them with the intention of sketching copies to sell on his market stall. Mid morning I had to go to a nearby bar for a large café au lait to ward off the cold, I also took photos of an adjacent narrow uphill alley with steps and old fashioned lamps. At mid-day I packed up, folded everything and placed them on the truck to try it but they were too heavy and risked ripping the tyre, so I left them, got the car, drove back and put everything inside in the normal way and headed towards Landerne)au where concerts were to take place beginning at 2.30am. These were to be a foretaste of the popular 'Kann al Loar' festival held every July. I thought they might be taking place in the centre, but as they weren't I enquired at the local tourist office who directed me to the 'Espace Culturel' at the Landerne)au branch of 'Centre Leclerc,' a large supermarket chain and the first in France to take on the concept. Another concept unusual for supermarkets is to put on concerts, one walks in as though a normal customer to buy goods, it is an autonomous branch within a branch, there's no fruit & veg, it's media centred, look for the concert and sit down in a corner of the store. After one false turn I found the venue and a very comfortable leather armchair from which I enjoyed a harp recital by Ysa Harpiste from Saint Thegonnec. At one time she sold music and then decided to step up and play it, the fact that she doesn't read what she plays, she very successfully does it by ear, didn't put her off, nor the Beatles, she turned to Olga Bystram from Brest to teach her how to sing & play with surprising results. I was glad that she came and had a chat with me. Towards the end of her recital I espied Lleuwen & Vincent bringing in their instruments ready for the second concert, we greeted each other, friends as we are, Katell & Maelwen came along, as did Tangi & Klervi, then Lan before they went on stage, Vincent with his revolutionary double bass contributing to a one off blues style. After each concert the musicians were interviewed, Katell translated into French what Lleuwen said in Breton. I said hello to Nolwenn Korbell before she went on stage, I've known her for years and she's a big friend of Lleuwen's, deservingly very popular in Brittany as she went on to prove to us. Her mother is the famous Breton singer Andrea ar Gouilh. Besides her musicians she was with a tall slim youth who I took to be her son from his resemblance to the Prifardd Twm Morys, he has a hard road to follow, his music & writing genes are formidable, his paternal grandmother; alpinist, travel writer, journalist - Jan Morris -  one of the best prose writers in the English language, his father a poet of the highest level in Cymraeg/Welsh, both his mother & maternal grandmother forces in the survival of Breton culture. Concerts, interviews and photoshoots terminated we left, another false turn and Lleuwen Steffan, Vincent Guerin and myself met at the Keltia bar, our favourite pub in Landerne)au situated on one of the only 4 bridges in Europe supporting inhabited housing, with us were Lleuwen's partner Lan Tangi, Tangi Thomin and Klervi N'Intañvez;  after 2 drinks we separated and about 8 o'clock we drove back to our respective houses. Getting into my car I switched on the radio only having missed 8 minutes of the Man Utd v Barcelona match, arrived in Plouie/Plouye at half time, switched on the telly to watch some mesmerizing football, unfortunately it was the other team, not that it matters, I've been a Barcelona fan for longer than I've supported Man Utd, but Utd have Giggs. After the match I turned the telly around on its turntable facing my bed and with the Mabinogion in hand I climbed into bed and read the source stories of medieval romantic literature untill I fell asleep.

Searching for Myrddin/Merlin

I've been reading so much about Myrddin/Merlin recently I thought I'd go and pay him a vist in the enchanted forest of Broceliande but Nimue/Viviane wouldn't let him out. I started my journey late because I couldn't and didn't find an important key, never mind I'd made my mind up to go. I drove straight to Sant Meven/Saint Méen, having driven through there once previously I 'd noticed a multiplicity of towers that intrigued me so I added it to my itinerary, this set me back; however when I got to my targeted destination, the Chateau de Comper, it was closing day wednesday; I drove around to Merlin's tomb and Viviane's fountain then on through Paimpont to take some photos of the castle in Josselin before nightfall, bypassing some interesting stuff on the way, enough to want to go back next time I'm able to fill up my petrol tank, too late, it was still light when I arrived and parked my car, I hurriedly walked down to the river, but by the time I got there the light had turned, all the same I took a few photos; I made my way slowly, no hurry now, back up to my car stopping off at a bar to quench my thirst with a quality beer from the local micro-brewery, Brittany's second after Coreff in date of establishment. Its founding owner/brewer by a magical coincidence, not a reincarnated medieval knight, but a more mundane Monsieur Bernard Lancelot, giving it the name 'Brasserie Lancelot' which fits in perfectly with the regional ambiance even if it is just outside the forest perimeter. Before leaving my house I'd prepared all my maps only to leave them on the settee, so I asked directions from the only customer and headed back to Plouie/Plouye. As I was approaching Loudeac I thought I'd take a detour through the town centre when my Arthurian dreams of castles, Merlin/Myrdddin, Viviane/Nimue and the romance of the middle ages came to an abrupt end when at 11.15 pm I was pulled over by two members of the local force for peace who checked my papers and had me blow into a breathalyser, no result and nothing out of order, after a couple of questions  intersperced with the saxon tongue, I told them I was Welsh, they then very politely let me go on my way.

Day's Diary

Looked up my a/c, wrote 3 cheques, took my sealed envelopes to the post office to buy stamps before posting them, local jeweller was there so I got a second opinion on my ruby, o.k., got it, now I have to cross my fingers that the money  arrives in time to avoid inconveniences; whether it's to Beli, Mithras, Christ, Mahomet or Buddha, I believe that the selfish use of prayers as with sportsmen is pushing it too far, whatever it is. I poured enough petrol into the car's tank to move the gauge needle off red for the moment to enable me to drive down to Kastellin/Chateaulin and hand in my week late rent money; whilst there I bought a beer to quench my thirst under the sun next to the Aôn/Aulne. On the way back I stopped at the river/canal further on, visited a chapel, a sign of the times that very few of them have their doors unlocked, then drove home early to get some food into the fridge, and here I am.

My Olympic Dream

Next on the agenda, The Olympic Games, perhaps it's time to re-organize them; Rorke's Drift is in the past, its Union Flag  quasi redundant and generally defunct, Great Britain never was a Country so there's no need for museum pieces flying from flagpoles. Erin/Ireland would be one, as in the 6 Nations rugby tournament, England, Alba/Scotland and Cymru/Wales likewise, bringing them in line with world cups & championships. There would be a problem with the French separating Ile de France from its historical countries and overseas dependencies, then there would be Africa with its multinational states such as Nigeria, and colonies over-riding national borders sometimes having one country in two states, 'though this is also a European problem as with the Basques, Catalans, Irish, etc., submerged kingdoms like Buganda, and Somalia split, as is Guyane/Guiana in South America where we also have Patagonia divided between Argentina & Chile. We have the not insurmountable Israeli-Palestinian anomaly, not so India & Pakistan, based as they are on religion pasted over empire. Of course some people would feel deprived when not joining in regularly with the celebrations, but the frisson would be that much stronger seeing one's own flag flying in the event of victory. Time for a change?

Deliberating

Having noticed that the National Anthem of the Ivory Coast is in French and in the knowledge that ours is in our own language of Cymraeg/Welsh, it got me wondering about the symbolism of Anthems in relation to colonial rule and/or independence, and to what extent the chains have been unlinked consciously & subconciously, how far have they liberated themselves; even the Irish & Scots, who have their own languages and Anthems and who make a lot of distancing themselves from England, sing in English. Of course the main problem in Africa is that they aren't historical entities, the boundaries were created by the Empire builders, therefore the respective invader's tongue has become the Lingua Franca, a common denominator as Latin was for us under Rome and there would be problems choosing one tribal language over another as the French did in giving preference to Langue d'Oil over Langue d'Oc and other historical languages. This is what some Irish say:- "The Scots have their whisky the Welsh have their speech, their poets are paid about 10p a week, provided no hard words on England they speak, oh God what a price for devotion." Admittedly we have moved on since that was written. The French don't trust the 'Anglo-Saxon' conspirators, the Christians don't trust the Moslems, the 'of the Left' don't trust the 'of the Right' & vice versa, the Chinese are forming a new world order and are laughing, and we in Cymru/Wales have the pitiable situation where the non-Welsh speakers in the east (north & south) & South Penfro don't trust the 'conspiratorial' Welsh speakers of the west (north & south); there is such a thing as bi-lingualism, there are 10 year old children in the wastes of Africa who speak 6 languages, switching from one to another; monoglot English families move to France and struggle, their children become bi-lingual. The prime objective should be the good of the Country, North & South Wales; East & West. This includes the Welsh Language, or Cymraeg, as we call it, and the reason we call it that is because it is the recognition from the 7th century onwards that we have to stand together; it comes from 'Combrogos', plural 'Combrogi' meaning 'fellow countrymen.

Not too late

Ever wondered why Cymru/Wales with its iron & coal went from rich to poor whilst California with its gold went from rich to richer. One of the very first things the Californians did was to set up a State Legislature and invest in their Country, they fell in love, made love with and caressed their gold. In Cymru we were stripped, raped & robbed, divested of everything of value because the Welsh people didn't have a say; we were belatedly given a Welsh Office in 1965 to administer an empty shell on behalf of a then disinterested British body politic, except that the Labour Party needed our votes and had made promises. It makes one wonder what could have been. This is 2011, we have a Welsh Government and we have our pride, we are starting at zero with nothing to invest except our intellect, there is work to be done and blaming others now belongs to the past. We still need to bypass London if we are to build a strong economy, we want to be where the important decisions are made, on the Continent, not in Europe, we are already in Europe, the Welsh were in Europe before England was a concept. We don't need decisions made for us by our next door neighbours, we want to be in on the decision making where it matters, in Brussels.

Afternoon stroll

I've just come back from a 4 & 1/2 hour circular walk, and three minutes car drive to finish, around the back of my house following our local boundary river, the Ellez, for half of the way; there weren't any public paths so my legs have tingling sensations all over from the stinging due to my having walked in boots & shorts through overgrown fields and wild riverbank. When I set out I envisaged arriving back at 7 o'clock, which I did spot on; I am on my 4th successive book featuring Myrddin/Merlin so his gifts are rubbing off. I will publish the photos anon.

Confident

Diolch/Thank you Julian; let me explain to everyone; there's not much point in my having a fill in job, besides my 60 years of age, my gout and my diabetes, although I am registered as a job seeker, it would be foolishly short term. The plans for the new pub are now in the Mayor's office together with an application for a building permit. I work for at least 12 hours a day on my photos except for my mornings at the markets so that when everything is organized and the pub is reopened I will have a base to retail my photos with printing facilities from a voluminous collection for on site development & sales. I am doing without at the moment so that I can plan a confident future with a second earner, the pub trade not the most auspicious at the moment, especially in the countryside but even in the towns, on both sides of the Channel. My good friends have been helping me to keep my head above water, I hope it won't be too long that I'll be in a position to reciprocate, back behind my bar with my life in my own hands again, controlling my destiny, my feet once again on solid ground instead of floating, although I'll still be driving around taking photos of Brittany, but selling them at my pub shop. There will be a welcome for all smiling faces as is the story of my pub, but a little extra for the good people who've helped me in my hour, of course I realize that many people are not in the position to do so; another hurdle has been leaped, opening day is slowly approaching.