Programming Again

A few posts ago I mentioned that I'd resurrected my old website writing skills (Going Solo, 29th November).  The resultant site is, I admit, far from being the greatest on the Worldwide Web but it does its job and I had a lot of fun putting it together.

Like many in my generation, my first foray into computer programming was writing programs in BASIC. To start with, they were simple ones like this conversion table from degrees C to F:

10 for c=0 to 100 step 10
20 print c, (c*1.8)+32
30 next c

I was most fortunate to be working in a development unit where "playing with computers" was accepted as an important part of the job. We had some of the early micro-computers to be imported from the USA, such as these products from Southwest Technical, and a couple of us became so enthusiastic that we often ordered sandwiches from the Head Office canteen and worked on into the evening for no extra pay.  O the joys of not having too many family responsibilities!

My programming skills developed quite rapidly so that, before long, I was able to control items of lab equipment and automatically log the results. I branched out a bit into other programming languages but mainly stuck with derivatives of that original BASIC language, since programs could be developed quite quickly. In our industry, processing speed was never an issue and if I ran out of memory I could always slot in an extra 8k board. Yes, a whole 8k... wow!

Anyway, revenons à nos moutons, that web programming has reminded me that I do enjoy writing programs. So, pining for the old days of my youth, I've decided to learn a modern incarnation of the old BASIC language — Visual Basic.

First step was to buy a good 'teach yourself' book and I settled on this one.  Computer wiz-kids will be quick to point out that Visual Basic 2012 isn't wholly compatible with Windows 10 and that I should have gone for the 2015 version, but that was a lot more expensive and, for the programs I have in mind, I think I can cope with any incompatibility problems. By the way, those "24 hours" are not meant to imply that, if I open the book on Monday morning then by Tuesday morning I'll know it all!  They are 24 one hour lessons, so several weeks of work lie ahead of me.

The next step was to download Visual Basic 2012, free of charge, from Microsoft. To my surprise, what I ended up with was a suite of programs (Visual Studio) that included C++ (with which I have dabbled in the past) and C# that I've not heard of before.

Yesterday evening I opened the book and tackled Lesson One. Here's some of the code that I had written before the clock chimed midnight and I crawled off to bed:

Private Sub btnSelectPicture_Click(sender As Object, e As EventArgs) Handles btnSelectPicture.Click
        ' Show the open file dialog box.
        If ofdSelectPicture.ShowDialog = DialogResult.OK Then
            ' Load the picture into the picture box
            picShowPicture.Image = Image.FromFile(ofdSelectPicture.Filename)
            ' Show the name of the file in the form's caption.
            Me.Text = "Picture Viewer(" & ofdselectpicture.FileName & ")"

        End If
    End Sub

Crumbs, there really isn't much of that old BASIC left, though a few expressions have a familiar ring to them, such as  If... Then... End If. Much of the rest remains gobbledegook to me, but I expect to grow a little wiser with each passing chapter. For this old bird, the thrill of actually making a computer do something is like being young(ish) all over again!

Slimming World success

I've done it! 24 weeks after joining Slimming World, I have shed 2 stone, 9½ pounds and not only achieved my target weight but gone a pound beyond it.

When I started, my Body Mass Index was 30.3, which meant that I was clinically obese. Over the years I'd tried calorie counting or simply giving up fatty foods, and my weight had dropped a bit, then risen again as enthusiasm waned, but never went far from the obese threshold of 30. Now it's a very healthy 24.5 and I'm rather proud of the fact that I never gained weight once on my Slimming World journey.

With Christmas celebrations looming large, the timing could not have been better.  Whilst I have no intention of lapsing into my old ways, I will be able to relax a bit, and enjoy a few slices of Christmas Cake, and Cornish clotted cream on my Christmas Pudding.  Hopefully, my weight won't rise more than 3lb above Target Weight, ensuring that I keep my free membership of Slimming World. If I do over-indulge, though, I shall simply pay up and doubtless knock the excess pounds off quite quickly.  After all, I know what to do.

All of which emphasises the importance to me of the 'group therapy' that has become an essential part of my weight loss programme. Yes, I know that it's perfectly possible to lose weight without joining a group of rotund individuals every week, commiserating with those who have gained weight and congratulating those who have lost. But believe me, few things gladden a slimmer's heart more than applause from ones friends after a good week.

Then there are the certificates, marking important stages on the journey and proudly displayed on a notice board in my hobby room. Apart from that final Certificate of Success, this has to be the one for which I'm most proud, not least because it was unexpected...

I'm thrilled that two friends have joined Slimming World after seeing how much good it was doing me, and another is thinking about it. Others who were already members have also contacted me and we've been able to encourage one another.

To them, and to anyone else embarking on this Slimming World journey, I offer just two bits of advice:

1.Attend the group sessions. Slimming World call this 'Image Therapy' and that's exactly what it is. When, week by week, friends applaud your efforts, you really do grow to believe that the image staring back at you in the mirror is growing more and more lovely.

2. Don't stop counting Syns. All food that isn't 'free' has a syn value and most of us are encouraged to aim for 5-15 syns a day. For the first four weeks, consultants ask us to log all our food and record those syns. After the four weeks, don't stop! Slimming World will keep giving you food logs if you want them. I chose to make my own record sheets, on which I recorded my syns, together with the Healthy Extra dairy and fibre foods which are an essential part of the Slimming World plan.

Incidentally, one thing that Slimming World consultants don't recommend is that you weigh yourself too often. That's one bit of advice that I chose to ignore, jumping on the scales at least 5 times a week, though I wouldn't necessarily advise others to do the same.  Recording data was an important part of my old job in the China Clay industry and statistics still fascinate me. Consequently I can tell you that my average weekly weight loss was 1.56lb with a standard deviation of 1.2. How sad is that?

Impulse Buying on a rainy day

Yesterday dawned damp and misty, then gradually deteriorated.  Plans to do a pleasant 6 mile walk around English Bicknor and the Wye Valley were reluctantly shelved and we sat in our lounge, sipping tea and wondering what to do.

"Let's take the train to Cardiff," I suggested, "and buy new salt and pepper mills."  No, they were not to be the 'impulse buy', though I readily admit that a 90 minute round trip by train just to buy some modest tableware is pretty daft. But mum sends us £30 every year and it's nice to have something to show for it before Christmas Day. So Cardiff it was.

First stop, the Brewery Quarter ('How unlike us,' I hear you say) where there are several nice restaurants. We settled on Bella Italia, as I love Italian food and they had several 'Slimming World-friendly' dishes, including this beef ravioli. A bottle of Trebbiano, shared between us, wasn't so great for the diet, but would just about be OK if I behaved for the rest of the day (possible, but unlikely). Anyway, like the wine, I was feeling fresh and fruity.😃

Despite some well-deserved leg-pulling over Cardiff's Chinese Christmas Tree – the council thought they'd ordered a 40 metre one, but it was only 40 feet! – the city centre looked commendably festive.

I love a tempting bargain! (on the right;click to enlarge) 

I especially like these rows of little wooden sheds – so much nicer than the usual market stalls and perfect for rainy winter days. I spent ages exploring them...

... and at this one I succumbed – my impulse buy! Are not those Nepalese handbags just amazing? I bought two @ £16 each; one for me and one as a present for someone special. I love then because, with that patchwork of colours, they will match almost anything that I choose to wear. They're quite roomy too, but not so big that I'll lose things in their murky depths.

Only one thing left to get.  Now what was it?... Ah yes, the salt and pepper mills. I drew a blank at House of Fraser (reassuringly expensive, but rather ordinary-looking) and searched in vain for a kitchenware shop, but finally discovered this little beauty in John Lewis for £27 – a Cole & Mason combined salt and pepper mill. It's electric, rather stylish and looks better made than the clanky old Salter ones its replacing.

So, thanks to the mist and rain, Monday turned out to be quite an expensive day; well, expensive by my usually modest standards.  Two return rail fares £24, lunch at Bella Italia £40, two handbags £32, salt & pepper mill £27, coffees in Starbucks £5; total £128.

That will do until after Christmas, when – rain or shine – newly super-slim Angie plans to make the most of the New Year sales.  If you could see the way in which many of my old skirts and tops are literally falling off me, you'd agree that something must be done.

Forgiving Slade

Does your granny always tell ya' that the old songs are the best?

Indeed she does — O Come All Ye Faithful, Hark the Herald Angels Sing, Mary's Boy Child, O Holy Night and my favourite of them all, The Shepherds' Farewell. Yes, they're the best.

Truth is, I love Christmas.  I love Christmas trees, Christmas turkey, Christmas presents, Christmas cards from family and treasured friends, Christmas crackers and silly hats, Christmas carols from Kings College and Christmas pudding with brandy sauce. Into the damp, cold, short days around the Winter Solstice, Christmas beams light and happiness and good fun. Consequently, my Christmas Tree goes up soon after Advent Sunday. By Twelfth Night it will be quite bedraggled, but I love it anyway; as does my well-behaved moggy Tommy - the first cat I've had who can be trusted with all those decorative balls.

Yes, if Christmas didn't exist, it would surely have to be invented.

However, I definitely don't love the over-commercialisation of Christmas and the unremitting pressure to spend more than I have on things neither I nor my loved ones really want. But that, I tell myself, is the price for living in a capitalist society, and I wouldn't willingly swap it for anyone else's system. As far as profit-hungry retailers are concerned, any excuse will do. Mothers' Day, Easter and Halloween (yuk!) get similar treatment, but Christmas is the Grand Daddy of them all.

For me, and for many like me, Christmas also has a strong religious importance, perfectly summed up in these lines from Charles Wesley's famous carol:

Veiled in flesh, the Godhead see;

hail the incarnate Deity;

Pleased as man with man to dwell,

Jesus, our Emmanuel.

I am not, however, naive enough to believe that Christmas should solely be a Christian festival. It may indeed be The Reason for the Season, but folk were marking the Winter Solstice long before Christianity reached these shores. Truth be told, Easter is more significant for Christians. The birth of Jesus isn't even mentioned in two of the four Gospels, whilst the prolific St Paul half-mentioned it just once – But when the fullness of time had come, God sent his Son, born of a woman... (Galatians 4.4). The rest, truth be told, is hype.

Then she's up and rock 'n' rollin' with the rest.

Photo: Alastair Lightly

I've oft been heard to remark that Slade have a lot to answer for! For weeks now it's been almost impossible to shop in a supermarket or department store without hearing them singing:

Are you hanging up your 

stocking on the wall?

Are you hoping that the snow 

will start to fall?...

Tesco have even tried to make a joke of it in one of their more nauseating Christmas commercials. If a Christmas song has ever been done to death, it's surely that one...  or is it?

Well here's our ukulele group – the amazing Ukes 'uv Azzard – busking in Coleford last Saturday. I'm third from the left. Despite it being a bitterly cold morning, we're thoroughly enjoying ourselves and enthusiastically singing, among other Christmas numbers, yes... you guessed it, Slade's Merry Christmas Everybody. And I have to admit that having sung it, rather than just listened to it, it's a great song. The good folk of Coleford clearly agreed, as that open ukulele case was soon filling up with donations for our local hospice, which is surely what the Christmas Spirit is really all about. 

Going Solo

A small group of friends at a recent Ukulele Fun Night. I'm on the left,
with Cherry next to me. The lady on the far right is Jean, another
Slimming World member, so we have more than ukes in common.

Learning to play the ukulele was definitely one of my better decisions, so I remain very grateful to my cousin Jan for coming up with the idea. What a shame that she didn't carry on with it herself. Though I'm still far from being expert, I do enjoy myself immensely and my playing skills are gradually improving. 

One thing I knew nothing about when I enrolled on that Beginners' Course in 2014 was the amazing social side to ukelele playing that was about to open up. I had completed just two terms when a friend on the course invited me to an evening with my local ukulele group, The Ukes uv Azzard. Ten minutes after arriving, I was hooked.

The acceptance and encouragement that's come my way are tremendous and I've made lots of lovely new friends. In gratitude, I tried to put something back into the group by volunteering to keep our song book up to date. More recently, I offered to resurrect my former website writing skills and produce a simple site for The Ukes uv Azzard.  Click here if you'd like to take a look. 

In truth, this is far from being a great technological achievement as the program I used to write the website is very similar to the one I use to keep the songbook up to date — both Serif products (WebPlus and PagePlus). But I did have a lot of fun putting it together, finding a corner of the Worldwide Web to host it and remembering how to use an FTP program to get it from my computer to theirs. 

One skill that I definitely do not possess is that of melodious singing. In many songs I can't reach the high notes of the girls' melody line, whilst trying to join the boys doesn't feel right either, so I try to pick out an alto(ish) harmony in the middle. You will doubtless, therefore, judge that I had taken leave of my senses when I volunteered to sing a solo at a recent Ukulele Fun Night. 

The song I chose was Lamorna, from my native Cornwall, as it's quite comical and has a few Cornish pronunciations:

She said I knowed 'e well, I knowed 'e all along

I knowed 'e in the dark but I did it for a lark...

In Cornwall it's quite well known and many folk would be eager to join in the chorus; here in Gloucstershire no-one had heard it before. Being a solo, I could (of course) choose my own key, ideally 'F', but that would give me a couple of Bb chords in each verse – normally well within my playing abilities, but when standing up and singing solo...? I compromised, went up a tone and played in 'G'.

I confess that I wasn't wholly pleased with my efforts. That top 'G' would be easy when singing with others but (doubtless due to stage fright) my voice cracked a couple of times. Then I messed up the final 'outro' chord sequence. I took my seat feeling crestfallen, but I need not have worried. Janice, who organised the event, gave me an enormous hug and the following day there were messages of congratulation on Facebook:  

Ange your Cornish song tonight was fabulous, thank you for sharing it - we definitely got the wetwetwet bit of the chorus, especially given the last few days weather eh!

Thank you Angela for coming along and doing your solo spot. The song was great :-) xx

Yes, I'd been among friends; good friends. Will I try again?  Yes!.. (if they want me) though I will learn from my mistakes.  Next time I'll sit down, making it easier to play awkward chords, and I'll pitch the song safely within my vocal range. There's a humorous variation of the classic folk song To be a farmer's boy that I know and it would be fun to give it a try.

Finally, thank you Janice and Alastair for the photos, and for organising a fantastic Fun Night.

These vegetables have been murdered!

Lamb Shank and murdered beans at a restaurant in Cornwall.

It took me a long time to really enjoy eating vegetables.

The loathing probably started with school dinners. If I close my eyes I can picture them now; brussel sprouts on one side of the plate and anemic-looking carrots on the other, kept apart by a lavish helping of mashed potato. I take a fork and squeeze a sprout, which deflates as water flows out, diluting the gravy.  Giving the carrots a similarly gentle caress, I discover that watery mashed carrot, when mixed with mashed potato, is just about palatable.  Just about.

At home things weren't a lot better.  I grew up in a hotel in the 1960s, when everyone (so it seemed) liked their vegetables boiled soft.  My job was often to assist with the washing up and I remember thinking that there was as much goodness in the boiled water I was throwing down the sink as in the veg on the visitors' plates. Little wonder, then, that in my teenage years greens were endured, rather than enjoyed. The only veg servings that I really relished were mashed potato, mashed swede, peas and (of course) chips.

Botallack Count House

Eventually the light dawned.  Thanks to a friend who considered herself something of a gastronome, we discovered a delightful restaurant in West Cornwall. Today it looks like this, but before the National Trust 'restored' it to its former appearance it was the Count House Restaurant, run by Ian and Ann Long.

Ann went on to become a Masterchef, and never was an honor more fittingly bestowed.  In particular (for the purposes of this blog post) her vegetables were always cooked to perfection and, for the first time in my life, I discovered the delights of crisp courgettes, broccoli and carrots. They tasted wonderful!

Suffice to say that never again were 'soft boiled' carrots and sprouts served in my house. And over the years I've noticed that the trend in pubs and restaurants is definitely in the right direction, so that I've been able to order vegetables with my meals, with more than a modicum of confidence that they will be edible.

Which is why those murdered (or should I say 'drowned'?) runner beans in a mid-Cornwall restaurant, owned and run by a national chain of brewers, came as a surprise. Quite like old times, in fact.

Stourhead: in the steps of Miss Marple

Miss Marple (right) talks with the soon-to-be-murdered
Elizabeth Temple in Stourhead Gardens

To my mind, only one actress has convincingly portrayed Agatha Christie's Miss Marple. Margaret Rutherford was comical but fell well short of the mark, not helped by some truly diabolical scripts. Geraldine McEwan was much better (which is more than can be said for her scripts, too) but her smiling incarnation of the oft-knitting, tea drinking super-sleuth never quite came up to the standard set by the queen of them all — Joan Hickson.

One of my favourites in the 1980's BBC series that stared Joan Hickson is Nemesis. Miss Marple is booked on an 'all expenses paid' coach tour of stately homes and gardens, in the hope that she can unravel the mystery of who killed Verity Hunt. If the logic of that escapes you then you'll have to get the book or lay your hands on a copy of the old programme. However, if perchance you come across the Geraldine McEwan version, just put it back on the shelf.  It's nothing like the original.

Anyway, the second stop on this carefully crafted coach tour was Stourhead, in Wiltshire. Miss Marple arrives on a miserable, rainy day, so much of the beauty of the place is lost. Whether that was intentional, a ploy to dodge the crowds or just bad luck, I know not, but it certainly adds to the gathering gloom of the plot.

Enthusiasts for the 2005 version of Pride & Prejudice will also recognise Stourhead as the place where Mr Darcy proposed to Elizabeth – again in the rain. Me, I prefer the earlier series that stared Colin Firth. He's just so dishy!

When I visited, over this past weekend, I'm pleased to report that the weather was not at all Nemesis-like; quite the opposite, in fact. One of the National Trust stewards told me that visitor numbers peak at this time of the year as the autumn colours are so spectacular, and indeed they are.

I joined the crowds and ambled slowly around the lake, intending to take lots of photographs. Unfortunately, after only a couple of clicks, my camera battery signaled that it was about to expire... and oh flip, I didn't have a replacement!  Consequently, all the photos here were taken on S-'s Sony smartphone.  I suppose one might expect Sony, of all manufacturers, to have a decent camera on their smartphone, but I am still very impressed with the quality. Since returning home I've read a few reviews and yes, the Sony camera is acknowledged to be better that Samsung's, despite them both having 13 megapixel resolution. It does have it's drawbacks, compared to a conventional camera, but hey... any port in a storm, as they say.

So here, to show off the spectacular beauty of Stourhead and the excellence of that smartphone, are some views, taken on my circuit of the lake.

Miss Baggy

Every year Slimming World present a Miss Slinky award to the slimmer who had made the most impressive transition from Tubby to Slinky.  You can read about Megan McGee, the 2016 winner, here.

The chance of anyone from our little group winning a national award is remote indeed, but this hasn't stopped Debra, our consultant, organising an award for the Whitecroft group. Among the nominees was little me, and I was asked to bring along a couple of 'before' and 'after' photos to impress the group.

Dear me; I used to think that the left hand photo was rather a good one.  Now I'm less than impressed and much happier with the one on the right, in which I've shed 2 stone. Even my smile has improved.

I didn't win Miss Slinky; indeed, I never expected to as a couple of ladies in our group have lost many, many pounds in weight over several years.  You really do have to admire their resolve, and the results are stunning. But those who know of my life's journey will understand that just being nominated for so feminine an award was a terrific boost to my ego.

In truth, I think I should have been nominated for Miss Baggy since most of my clothes are, to put it mildly, somewhat loose on me.  Last week I donned an old size 18 fitted skirt, zipped it up, let go and it promptly fell to the floor!  T-shirts that once were snug fits now hang limply on my shoulders and the neck lines droop to expose the top of my bra.

I've made myself a Christmas Promise —  My Christmas gift to me is to be eleven stone three. Right now I'm about 1lb heavier than I should be to hit that target on time, so I need to say 'no' to a few more glasses of fine wine. If I succeed then I'll be charging around the January Sales with an enthusiasm that friends and family have never seen before. It could be an expensive New Year.

A walk to Sharpness and a Ships' Graveyard

This walk started in little village of Purton, on the Gloucester - Sharpness Canal, where I encountered what must be the most unfriendly public footpath notice I've ever seen. Riled to the point of downright rebellion, I deliberately took my time, loitering as much as possible, and sat down beside the river bank to eat my apple. Angry farmer failed to appear.  Pity.

Oddly, the unfriendly notice only appears at the Purton end of the footpath. Walkers coming in the opposite direction are presumably free to loiter to their heart's content.

The loiter-inducing view over the River Severn is rather good...

A little further downstream is Purton Ships' Graveyard – a unique collection of decaying hulks, beached here from the early 1900s to help stabilise the river bank. It has the distinction of being the largest such 'graveyard' in the UK.  Those with better camera skills than mine would doubtless have hours of fun, but here are some of my modest efforts.

At the end of the graveyard the path rejoins the canal and before long I came upon the remains of the Severn Railway Bridge.  Opened in 1879, it provided a valuable outlet for Forest of Dean coal, as well as linking communities on either side of the River Severn.  On October 25th 1960 it was hit and badly damage by a couple of tanker barges, and soon after that the decision was made to demolish it.

Here's an old postcard view of the bridge...

From the bridge it's but a short walk to the end of the canal and Sharpness Dock. I'm rather pleased with this shot of the dock from the opposite side of the canal, with two figures making their way across the rail bridge.

This is the disused sea lock at the end of the canal. These days canal traffic has to go through the dock to get out on the Severn.

Finally, a view across the Severn to Lydney Harbour, near my home — about a mile away as the crow flies but 34 miles by road. It would have been a lot less if that rail bridge was still there!

Goodbye Bluebell... Hello Bluebird

Brand new Bluebell, July 2011

Bluebell, my much-loved Peugeot 107 motorcar, has been sold. She had travelled 67500 miles in her 5 year lifetime and should have had plenty of life left, but was actually showing her age – a sign that the build quality was perhaps not as good as many other modern cars.

She had needed a new clutch after only 47000 miles, which seemed rather poor, though my local garage did the job for £450 and we soon forgave her that unexpected lapse. Ominously, though, she had recently developed a thirst for oil, needing a quart top-up only 7000 miles after her last service.  That thirst wasn't going to improve without some major surgery. Clearly Bluebell's best years were behind her.

Much-loved she may have been, but Bluebell did have some infuriating shortcomings, leaving me to conclude that Peugeot-Citroen have not entirely thrown off their '2CV' image. For instance, the interior light only came on when the driver's door was opened, so if I was searching in the dark for things in the back of the car, I used to leave the driver's door ajar. Also, the reversing light was about as useful as a candle in a storm.

I realize that many of my friends happily drive cars much older than Bluebell, and with at least as many problems, but when a family loan was unexpectedly repaid, I started looking for a replacement.

I drew up a shortlist of so-called 'City' cars, all of which were big enough for my needs. My favourite to start with was the Vauxhall Viva, perhaps for no better reason than that the two Vauxhall Corsas I'd owned before Bluebell were excellent.  However, doubts began to creep in when I read the WhatCar? assessment:

Vauxhall’s new Viva is a car that has many strong points... The trouble is that the market is brimming with great small cars, and the Viva does little to stand out amongst them... Overall, the Viva is likeable and does the job of a small car perfectly well, but just be sure that one of the other more rounded alternatives doesn't suit your needs and finances better.

Top of the WhatCar? list was the Hyundai I10, followed by the Volkswagen Up.  Autocar had them the other way round, but the Viva was still well down the list.  There was only one way to settle the matter – spend a day in Newport and find out for ourselves. If neither the Viva nor the I10 appealed, it would be easy to check out the Volkswagen, Kia and several other makes.

First stop, the Vauxhall garage. Yes, the little Viva was very nice, though they would charge extra for anything other than a red or white one. How strange. If we didn't mind waiting until December, though, we could have it with an automatic gearbox. But the price offered for Bluebell was not great, even allowing for the fact that she had some bodywork damage. If it was to be the Viva, we would need to take out a small loan.

Brand new Bluebird.. but same old bird to drive it.

As the salesman chatted, I quietly searched on my mobile for directions to the Wessex Hyundai showroom and it was to there that we next set course.  I already knew that the I10 would be slightly cheaper than the Viva, but when they also quoted a better price for Bluebell and topped it by offering a 'pre-reg' I10-SE for £7543 (list price £10,075) the deal was done.

Only one important job remained; what to call our new acquisition. Yet again, she was blue. How about Bluebottle? But Bluebottle the Goon was always getting into scrapes, so perhaps not. Blue Streak? Remember that? The government wisely scrapped it before it entered full production, so not a good choice. Finally I came up with Bluebird and that's the name that's stuck. This Bluebird may not have the record-breaking performance of Malcolm Campbell's speed machine, but she's a lot more nippy than Bluebell and to me feels very speedy indeed. She also has a Bluebird-like 'high-tech' feel, with lots of new knobs, switches and buttons to prod. Consequently, I'm now trying to get my head around air conditioning, cruise control, fuel consumption displays and a radio that makes Bluebell's look like something designed to pick up 2LO.

Oh, and after a week of motoring, I've just found out how to open the fuel filler lid. Impressive, I'm sure you will agree.

Y Felin

This unpretentious building in St Dogmaels, near Cardigan, is Y Felin (pronounced Uh Vellin). That, I well know, means The Mill as in Cornish it would be An Mellyn. The two languages really are quite similar. Indeed, I used to live a stones throw from Mellanvrane, in Cornwall – an anglicised rendering of Mellyn Vran, which means Crow Mill.

Mellanvrane is a mere shadow of its former self, but Y Felin is quite the opposite and rather special.  If you ring the doorbell of the adjacent house, Michael will emerge and (for a modest fee) show you around his beautifully restored mill.

There's another Cornish connection, for much of the restoration work was carried out by a gentleman by the name of Paynter.  "He must have been Cornish," says I, "for that's a good Cornish name," and indeed he was.

To begin our tour, Michael invited us to walk round to the back of the mill and view the water wheel, while he opened the sluice gate.

This is how it looked like after the sluice had been opened, but before the wheel mechanism had been set in motion. 

And here it is, in operation.

The mill pond, from which the water wheel is fed.

I'm delighted to report that Mr Paynter has done a fine job of restoration, as these photos from the Y Felin website site show
. 

I really should have taken a few photos of my own, but became totally engrossed in conversation with Michael about flour mills we have known and my dad's wartime work with Vickers Armstrong. I'm not at all sure how we got on the the latter, but it all made for a truly fascinating visit.

But what is Y Felin's product like?  Feeling the need to know, I bought a 1.5kg bag of wholemeal flour and put it to the test, pitting it against my regular Tesco Strong Wholemeal flour.

The Y Felin flour is on the left and the Tesco product on the right. There's not a lot of difference, though the Tesco one is slightly coarser and includes a few wheat husks. It would have been interesting to make a loaf with each flour but my Slimming World Healthy Eating Plan has severely limited my bread intake, so I just made one large loaf with Y Felin flour, using a bread maker and following my usual recipe:

310ml water, 15ml lemon juice,

450g wholemeal flour, 75g white flour,

20ml milk powder, 7.5ml salt, 10ml sugar,

25g butter, 7.5ml yeast.

Other recipes I've seen use a lot more sugar, but this one has never failed me in the past... and it didn't this time, either.  Here's the scrumptious result.

In this rather unscientific comparison, all I can say with certainty is that the Y Felin loaf is every bit as tasty as my usual Tesco ones — but who cares to support Tesco when one could buy flour that's been lovingly produced in an ancient mill that was restored by a Cornishman?