Yesterday was Dydd Dewi Sant, which I did not know until I listened to a BBC show from yesterday just now. As a Welshman, I quickly realized I had sinned greviously and promptly punched myself in the face, as is the custom in Wales.
I should have known it was Dydd Dewi Sant, as the daffodils had popped out all at once in splashes of yellow all over town.
The punching in the face bit is only for stray English people who denigrade our Patron Saint. The Cymry are they only people in Britain who have a fellow countryman as their patron saint. The English have a Turk as their patron saint, the Scots have a Jew and the Irish have a Welshman. I have also been twice to St David’s which is the equivalent of one pilgrimage to Rome. I might try walking to St David’s next time, which will be my third visit to the smallest city in Wales, and that will be equivalent to a pilgrimage to Jerusalem.
[…] is the fourth time I’ve celebrated the saint’s day on this blog. Along with the leek and the red dragon, the daffodil is a […]