I Decided I Needed Angst So Here It Is. It’s After The Third Partition Of Poland When She Still Believed

neato: a 13th-century number notation system created by european monks

My dearest Granddaughter.

Na, “Annwyl Wyres”. You’ve asked me to write what I remember for your school project, So I suppose you’ll want me to do it in Welsh.

Cariad bach, Sai'n gwybod beth i ‘weud wrthi ti. Silence is a hard habit to break.

Right from day one, this wasn’t something we talked about. It was a non-subject. Mae'n rhyfedd pan ti'n meddwl am y peth; While the whole world and his wife were talking about us, With their editorials And their news items and so on A tra bod y beirdd yn sgwennu cerddi amdanyn ni   A'r holl eiriau'n golchi droson ni

O'n ni'n dweud dim.

We said nothing.

So how much should you know? It’s part of your history, Our family’s history. But I can’t share my guilt with you For making the child I lost go to school that morning (I wish I’d never shared that with your Bampy even) And that I felt guilty for having A child that lived.

But I wouldn’t have had you otherwise, would I?

None of this makes sense.

There are pictures that you ought to see from afterwards. The photographer came over from America And he was here for weeks after the disaster - Rapoport his name was. ‘Sgwyla di ar ei luniau fe. He took one of the first baby born afterwards The first wedding The first smiles And how many hundreds have there been since then, thank God? Those pictures show us carrying on Because we had to.

But there are things that those photos can’t show.

Like candles in pockets. Your aunty was afraid of the dark. I would light a candle for her in the cemetary - Lots did. It was like a second home to us for a long time afterwards. I would take extra candles in my coat pocket In case somebody else’s Had burnt down to nothing.

These are things I will carry with me ‘til I die.

But Do you have a right to them?

Because it was so terrible, Should you feel like so many before you That it’s your duty To comment To sympathise To identify?

Elli di ddim, cariad bach.

But I don’t want you to forget, either.

I can only give your aunty flowers On be ranna i beth alla i ‘da di. 

I’ll give you all the memories that I can.

- Llythyr Mam-gu, by the bard Ifor ap Glyn.

Written in memory of the Aberfan Disaster, 50 years ago.

Close ups of the arrows. I painted dial rods and tore apart feathers them glued them on to make these. They're too short to actually shoot but they work for what I need, decoration.

good things will happen 🧿

things that are meant to be will fall into place 🧿

AHHHHHH????!!!!?!?!?!?!?

NOW IT'S LIKE A FULL BLOWN CRUSH???? I'M DYING? ??? SHE'S SO CUTE? ??? I DREW HER? ????? NOT IN A CREEPY WAY IN A I CAN'T GET HER OFF MY BRAIN WAY? ??

I just wanted to say thank you for the comment you left on my post a few days back. It actually made my night... I’ve been so stressed and worried and I still have two more days of waiting for biopsy results - I keep going back to it and it makes me smile every time. So thank you. From the bottom of my heart.

If you need to talk you can always come message me here on Tumblr through the messaging thingy! We have been mutuals for so long that I think of you as a bit of a friend, you know? I like to keep up, I just don't post much personal stuff, especially not on this blog.

Zanavykija Region, Lithuania

My phone added this affect to this picture I took years ago.

Tombstones of Ancient Roman Dogs

Aeolidis tumulum festivae cerne catellae, quam dolui inmodice raptam mihi praepete fato.

Behold the tomb of Aeolis, the cheerful little dog, whose loss to fleeting fate pained me beyond measure.

Raeda[r]um custos numquam latravit inepte. nunc silet et cineres vindicat um- bra suos.

This guard of the coaches never barked unsuitably. Now he is silent and his shade protects his ashes.

Quam dulcis fuit ista quam benigna quae cum viveret in sinu iacebat somni conscia semper et cubilis o factum male Myia quod peristi latrares modo si quis adcubaret rivalis dominae licentiosa o factum male Myia quod peristi altum iam tenet insciam sepulcrum nec sevire potes nec insilire nec blandis mihi morsib(us) renides.

How sweet and friendly she was! While she was alive she used to lie in the lap, always sharing sleep and bed. What a shame, Midge, that you have died! You would only bark if some rival took the liberty of lying up against your mistress. What a shame, Midge, that you have died! The depths of the grave now hold you and you know nothing about it. You cannot go wild nor jump on me, and you do not bare your teeth at me with bites that do not hurt.

Portavi lacrimis madidus te nostra catella, quod feci lustris laetior ante tribus. ergo mihi, Patrice, iam non dabis osculla mille nec poteris collo grata cubare meo. tristis marmorea posui te sede merentem et iunxi semper manib(us) ipse meis, morib(us) argutis hominem simulare paratam; perdidimus quales, hei mihi, delicias. tu dulcis, Patrice, nostras attingere mensas consueras, gremio poscere blanda cibos, lambere tu calicem lingua rapiente solebas quem tibi saepe meae sustinuere manus, accipere et lassum cauda gaudente frequenter

Bedewed with tears I have carried you, our little dog, as in happier circumstances I did fifteen years ago. So now, Patrice, you will no longer give me a thousand kisses, nor will you be able to lie affectionately round my neck. You were a good dog, and in sorrow I have placed you in a marble tomb, and I have united you forever to myself when I die. You readily matched a human with your clever ways; alas, what a pet we have lost! You, sweet Patrice, were in the habit of joining us at table and fawningly asking for food in our lap, you were accustomed to lick with your greedy tongue the cup which my hands often held for you and regularly to welcome your tired master with wagging tail.

Source: Electronic Archive of Greek and Latin Epigraphy

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