Tramp, tramp, tramp

Having posted my poem about a tramp a few days ago I was reminded of a special tramp in Welsh history - Dic Aberdaron. As can be deduced from his name he was a Richard who came from Aberdaron on the LLyn peninsula (Llyn has a circumflex, but this system won't give me one on a 'y'). He was a character and a half. He would travel to any town, buy some books, read them on his travels to the next town, when he would sell those books and buy some more. A man after my own heart.

I also remember a tramp I got to know quite well when living in Trefor, another village on the Llyn peninsula (on the north coast). We would see the outline of his head as he came past the chapel building on a Sunday morning at the same time on the same day every year. It was sad when he stopped coming. He was a good sort. Pity not many of themaround now.

First one foot and then another

This blogging business is like learning to walk. There is a kind of enthusiasm that wells up and gives one the motivation to propel oneself forward more than one step. It is seen that I have therefore, since yesterday, stepped forward once more. There is still the wide-eyed look, and there may be the 'innocence' that comes with that, but there is also a realisation that in this brave new world that one has entered one has to master certain things. This adds a certain hard edge to one's view and therefore, whoever looks on must beware of what might bump up against them. It is also true that the initial enthusiasm can wane and the less travelled part of this blog's title may, at times, again refer to the regularity of its offerings and the number of the posts.

Let me offer for your 'enjoyment', what may be termed the definitive poem for this blog. The author is this blog's author. It was written in response to an English teacher's edict many moons ago.


The Tramp

From day to day beneath the skies
Inclines his ears to heavenly cries
Far less he worries where he lies.

But empty stomach calls for savour
A farmer's broth with longing flavour
He looks for secret sign of favour.


Enjoy as you go on your daily tramp, but ensure that you take note of what W H Davies said, 'What is this world, so full of care, We have no time to stand and stare'.

Reasons and excuses

I am sure that if anybody has ventured to look at this blog that they would have been quickly bored. There are several good and worthy reasons why the blog is in the condition in which it now is. That condition ensures that the title of this blog is a good one, being intensely accurate.

I have been wondering whether I ought to change and become a, more-or-less, regular blogger. One problem with that is that it would explode the myth that the owner of this blog is an irregular traveller. What I may do is to blog more often but not regularly.

I do have to confess that there are two things that I do not like very much: cars and computers. I found that as soon as I started buying them I lost money. This is painful for someone born in Cardiganshire. However, it is also true that someone born in Cardiganshire has somewhat to say about most things.

So, here goes. I may see you sometime. Farewell for now.