A walk and a bit of right Royal history

The children are back at school so Jo and I are back to our weekly jaunts. For starters we headed back to our trusty old favourite, the 6.5 mile path around Llysyfran dam.

I have lost count of how many times we've done this walk now but I never tire of looking at the view. Today the weather was a little moody. Clouds billowed into pillars and towers but early heavy rain had headed off grumpily in the direction of England leaving behind sunny spells and a quite furious wind that luckily we were mostly sheltered from.

The bluebells are divine and the hawthorn is Persil white.

Now for our Royal historical connection. This stone is a memorial to William Penfro Rowlands, composer of the hymn tune Blaenwern which, with Charles Wesley's words 'Love divine all loves excelling', was sung at Prince William and Kate Middleton's recent wedding.

Mr Rowlands, a teacher, was born at Llysyfran in 1860 and died in Swansea in 1937. He wrote Blaenwern in 1905 and it was also sung at Prince Charles' wedding to the Duchess of Cornwall in 2005.

The stone - a piece of polished slate - is sited near the dam by the ruins of Rowlands' cottage. I wonder how many tourists have ambled past it recently not knowing the Royal connection.

Sitting ducks and other bills

Today's walk with Jo was the seven mile circuit of Llysyfran dam. This time we went clockwise, just to ring the changes. The overnight rain cleared to leave a bright sunny day with a promising breath of spring in the air.

A nice place for a cup of coffee.

The landscape rang with the chimes of many and various bird life. Cormorants dried their washing in trees.

Drying in the sunshine.

The little rivers laughed on their merry journey into the reservoir to tickle the toes of the trout.

Happy little river.

Rafts of Canada geese, mallard and grebe honked, squeaked and quacked in a discordant avian orchestra.

Honk if you love geese.

Then, with the world put well and truly back to rights I returned home to find something red, large and dangerous occupying my driveway.

The oil delivery lorry.

I sneaked into the house and hid. The oil man left having retro-burgled the tank. I'm not sure which door he knocked on to hand over the bill but it wasn't the one I was expecting. Perhaps he was too embarrassed once he had written down all the numbers.

Eventually curiosity overcame me and I went in search of the bill.

I found it. Holy cow*.

The result of opening a heating oil bill in 2011.

Sixty pence a litre. Sixty pence! When records began - ie when we moved back here in 2002 and I started signing the cheques - we paid 17p per litre and a whole tankful cost £146.38.

Today's tankful was a teaspoonful short of £600.

The oil heats our radiators and our hot water. There is no alternative**.

We are sitting ducks.

I don't suggest our local supplier is profiteering. They do seem to offer a competitive price and there is a £57 discount if I pay this bill promptly (which I will). There is no competition for heating oil and - call it coincidence - but oil is always more expensive over the Christmas period and the price seems to shoot up as soon as there's a whiff of trouble in an oil-producing area - Egypt is the current reason for the price hike.

I turned off the heating. Then for good measure I turned off the water and the boiler. At the plug. If it's cold later we'll huddle round a spirit lamp. I think I've got a bottle of malt whisky somewhere to run it on..

* Where 'cow' rhymes with 'duck'.
** There are alternatives of course - solar panels, heat exchange pumps - but we don't have the capital for the initial set up cost.

Shades of water

Various shades of water from today's seven mile walk around Llysyfran dam with Jo.

So much water after last night's rain.

Deep and still waters.

Even the steps have turned into a river.

Another waterfall cascading down.

A wall of water.

Mesmerising water power.