claredudman

Bunbury: an Investigation

If it were possible for a village to slip through the fingers, I think Bunbury would be one of them. Once a portal to Delamere forest, it is now suspended between two main roads from Tarporley, meagrely sign-posted as if intent on not drawing attention to itself. Bunbury, after all, is famous for its aloofContinue reading “Bunbury: an Investigation”

Three Ravens

Since I last wrote, I have produced a movie based on the life of John Bradshawe and his witch trials in Chester and Flint. I discovered I had the commission shortly after my mother was admitted to hospital. She died at the end of January, and a fortnight later, after I had made a startContinue reading “Three Ravens”

For my mother

I have heard that before an earthquake Birds fly erratically Small animals search frantically For shelter or maybe open spaces And when the rains come Even our slow-witted tortoise will lift up her shell And distractedly search for higher ground And that day, you too didn’t rest But as soon as the evening meal wasContinue reading “For my mother”

Arise Evans

In 1660, the newly restored King Charles II was approached by a Welsh man known as Arise Evans whose face was covered in a cloth. The Welsh man had some sort of fungal infection of his nose, and even though he knew this wasn’t actually the King’s Evil (scrofula), he thought the king’s touch would doContinue reading “Arise Evans”

Yma O Hyd

The Australian saint who is looking after my mother as she recovers from her broken hip, speaks to me in the corridor. ‘Is your mother Scottish,’ she asks. ‘No, Welsh,’ the Spouse says, grinning, and then warns her it might be better not to accuse her of being otherwise. Reading through Lloyd Bowen’s ‘Early ModernContinue reading “Yma O Hyd”

Royalty Loyalty

In 1969, it was the opinion of my grandmother in Swansea that the new Prince of Wales was a beautiful boy. I have no idea where this idea came from, but it was not a view shared with the rest of the family, who relished any opportunity to pointedly walk out when the British National AnthemContinue reading “Royalty Loyalty”

The Bards

I went to what was called a ‘progressive’ comprehensive. It prided itself with being more liberal than other schools: no uniform, teachers addressed by their first names and subjects such as community studies, drama, ‘English’ and ‘design’ in mixed ability classes. I thought it wonderful, and looked forward to most days I went there. Sixth form continued inContinue reading “The Bards”

Learning the Language.

I’ve always wanted to learn Welsh. It used to be the language my father spoke. It seemed to me he’d use it randomly. We’d go somewhere and somehow he’d come across someone he somehow knew could speak it and off they’d go. A secret language, I thought. And furthermore there must a secret code enabling each of themContinue reading “Learning the Language.”

A New Year

For some time I have been haunted by a song about three ravens on a tree. Each time I hear it I think of three women. One night they each fall asleep and wake to find themselves transported by ravens to the Sabbath in the woods. And today, while reading through a chapter on the religiousContinue reading “A New Year”

The Bauble Factory, Saltney.

Continuing my walk through Saltney. Here’s the High School: St David’s. And then St David’s Terrace: one of the earlier streets of houses: the west side a row of red-bricked terraced cottages then more modern semis opening out onto the pavement. It used to be cinder. Across the road, slightly later, the builder William Foden constructed houses with smallContinue reading “The Bauble Factory, Saltney.”