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We'd sit down at around 4pm, after my Mum had polished my uncle's beloved Welsh dresser and mopped the slate floors, after my sister and I had helped him feed the sheep and collect the eggs, and my Dad had returned from doing chores for my Nain (Welsh for "nan") who lived nearby....

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Bibliographic Details
Published inThe Guardian (London)
Main Author Sarah Neary Debbie Jones Rhian Evans
Format Newspaper Article
LanguageEnglish
Published London (UK) Guardian News & Media Limited 24.01.2015
Subjects
Neary, Sarah
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Summary:We'd sit down at around 4pm, after my Mum had polished my uncle's beloved Welsh dresser and mopped the slate floors, after my sister and I had helped him feed the sheep and collect the eggs, and my Dad had returned from doing chores for my Nain (Welsh for "nan") who lived nearby. Uncle Eifion would take his place in the old wooden chair by the blazing open fire and was in charge of slicing the loaf and layering on the butter. We ate the bread with Mum's homemade jam, and a piece of Cheddar cheese. There would always be at least three different homemade cakes to choose from. One of Uncle Eifion's favourites was the aniseed-flavoured caraway seed cake; I doubt my mum has made it since he died in 2007. At his funeral, the local minister talked of my uncle's love of astronomy, and of sitting on his tractor rounding up the sheep, quoting philosophers. He was truly one of a kind. Every time I go home to my parents' home, it's still a treat to have "Uncle Eifion's tea", and think about those idyllic days.
ISSN:0261-3077