Tuesday, 9 June 2009

Cool Party Days in Cwmbran.

Because of the blog title...
Jamie thinks I should show a little more of Wales.

Although it’s not Wrexham (centre of the earth according to Charlie), it's an amazing day out at Greenmeadow Community Farm in Cwmbran. In case you’re wondering…it’s a newish town about twenty minutes from Cardiff (capital city of Wales).

In the field across from the car park was a Rhea- the long-necked lovely is sometimes called the South American ostrich.

While the more familiar fowl made the most of the glorious weather in a manmade pond

As we were here to celebrate our granddaughter’s 4th birthday party, adults and children were admitted free. We ambled through a courtyard, past wooden picnic benches and a white gazebo lined with vibrant pots of paint- to a room festooned with “Happy Birthday” posters.

Fairy lights twinkled in the disco room, and pint-sized guests got the chance to strut their stuff

Pass- the -hat was a bit of a giggle, for they all wanted to wear the black, plastic hat.

'I wouldn't mind, but that's my hat!'

Then there was a stuggle with an unbreakable Pinta.

Before sitting down to scrummy Farmer Fred meals.

When you stop to think about it, factories would have spread like a virus across these vital green spaces -if plucky local people- hadn't fought to secure the land.

In the stables, where school learning materials are kept, youngsters got to milk a life-size demo cow!

But it was the goats-

inexhaustible appitites -that attracted most of the attention.

“Never mind that up close and personal palaver … where’s our grub?”

The piglets were also quite endearing

'Shouldn’t the goat be the one behind bars?’

'Nah, this side is much more fun.'

The farm had thought of everything to keep them amused – they even had a sheep shearing demonstations.

'Okay, okay, a haircut it is!'

'Now that tickles.'

'Are you sure it's a grade 3?'

'Apparently, it takes just one fleece to make a woollen jumper.’

“When asked if we could turn that woollen mountain into a zillions of Shreddies.’

‘We said, never in a month of Sundays!

"Rumbling around the farm on the tractor and trailer was part of the fun. On the other side of the tunnel, was a large adventure playground which looked perfect to soak up the area’s atmosphere. As part of the educational talk, provided by the driver- we learned that the food growing in the scarecrow- protected allotment was to serve the cosy little café at the farm.

The discovery of the bread ovens in the early 90s, led to the creation of the Alexander Cordell restaurant. In keeping with the times, the farm decided to cater for schools and young children.
Interestingly, a stone above the café’s hearth bears the initials of first farm owners Edward & Anne Jones. In those days, they used I instead of J, making their surname Iones.

Speaking of horses...and donkeys off course, they’ve come a hell of a long way since the farm belonged to the Adit colliery.
Because the colliery was important to the area, the 18th century farmstead was the only house with electricity for many a year.

By now we were growing to love the farm creatures- especially the calf that captivated hearts- with constant cries for his mother

Rex really was out of this world!

The water -squirting dragon- with red flashing eyes- originated from the Ebbw Garden Festival Wales.

'It really was the coolest party ever!