I haven’t done this for a few weeks because it’s felt a bit daunting. There are so many excellent snippets in so many different places – click the little graphic above to go to the link list – and it has taken a load of energy to go round and comment on them all. But but this week I thought I’d give it a go again, and again I’m using bits of my Welsh set Great War story, Calon Lan.
Bethan would have urged they accept Alwyn’s suggestion anyway – even if Alwyn’s friend had been sick or lazy – for this was the first time since they had picked him up at the station, gaunt and almost mute, with his head wrapped round and round with stiff, stained bandages, that Alwyn had asked them for anything.
An extra man in the house would mean more calls on her larder. While Bethan fed Georgie, glad of the opportunity to sit by the fire and rock his small warmth against her breast, she reviewed the contents of the pantry and cellar, pondered the fowls and planned their eating. Nye could pack the food away, Alwyn tended to pick, his appetite still not returned after long illness. Bethan hoped God would forgive her for hoping that Alwyn’s friend was of moderate habits.