Since then, I've attended lessons in Ysgol Santes Tudful and also the Scala snooker club in Merthyr, where the local Menter Iaith used to hold them. We moved from table to table trying to pot the mutations and often ending up pocketing our own whites with tied tongues!
Here I had an excellent teacher Phil Meaker (a local Joiner) who had learnt himself and so understood all the problems involved. I even progressed (prematurely, I'd say) to the 'dros y bont' class, but we tended to focus on comprehension, when what I needed was lots of conversation.
More than a decade ago I was taught by Rob Hughes, now of Bedlinog, the best of all my Welsh teachers. Rob insisted on speaking Welsh all the time, which was the right tactics and had a real knack at making you feel confident. It was no surprise that he went on to become 'Dysgwr y Flwyddyn' a few years back and to head the Welsh dept. at Tredegar Comp. Sometimes I meet him after Bluebirds' games and we have a chat (like me, he's a fanatic). Rob came from a Welsh family who lived in Reading and when I met him spoke English in a Reading accent and Welsh in a Gog one ( due to his teachers' influences). Now he speaks both in a Valleys one!
For the 9 years I taught in Cardiff I stopped attending lessons, as I was too busy. I lapsed into a listener at the many Urdd Eisteddfodau we went to.
When I took early retirement last year, I vowed to return to this marathon with a clear focus. I have yet to 'hit the wall', though writing any extended pieces certainly seems like high wooden fences.
I've begun to gain some 'hyder' in speaking and enjoy reading the learners' magazines 'Acen' and 'Lingo' and watching certain programmes on S4C such as Bandit and Pethe.
My weekly lessons in Hirwaun are always stimulating and I have another fine teacher. There's also a great atmosphere , as the class have been together now for a year and a half. I'm sure they're sickened by my spoffy self saying ' Mae e'n hawdd iawn!'
I feel that I'm running longer distances in terms of forming sentences, but can still trip and stumble on mutations. At times I wish I could mutate.........into a computerized dictionary! At other times, I think I'd be better off actually doing running rather than extending its metaphors.
However, I do enjoy reading poetry in Welsh (especially with a translation adjacent) and I've begun to write some poetry in Welsh also. 'Lingo' will be publishing my poem 'Croesi' which is, appropriately, about learning the language. Writing haiku is challenging, as Welsh words all seem multisyllabic.
The race has begun, but I've no idea where the finishing line is or how long it's going to take.I'm not in the least tired and take on quite a few 'paned o te' en route.
The following poem is a tribute to the yellow poppy which has been adopted by Plaid Cymru as their emblem (though their logo resembles that of BP!). 'Y pabi melyn' has followed me from the shoreline near Nant Gwrtheyrn to the streets of my village, Heolgerrig. May 'yr iaith' be just as ubiquitous.
Y PABI MELYN
{ for Rob Hughes}
Y pabi melyn grows in a crack
on our drive by ivy, moss and dandelion.
The first year it has come!
Our garden has to tend itself,
more tulips appear each Spring,
but now they're stripped stems.
I remember it at Nant Gwrtheyrn
(that village reclaimed for the language),
a tutor pointing out its wildness
on the climb from the stony beach.
Now it's a dish for the sun,
the stamen alert as aerials.
Y pabi melyn, Cymru's other flower :
may it thrive in street-crannies forever.