SOLD – VW T25 High Top Campervan

1981 2ltr Petrol Air cooled with Drive Away Awning – MOT September 2015

VW with Awning

Features include:

  • Drive away awning.
  • Captains chair (passenger seat).
  • 2 ring gas cooker and grill.
  • 12 volt/gas fridge. Runs off battery when travelling, gas when parked up.
  • Sink with electric pump.
  • Large on board water tank (housed under rear seats)
  • Rock ‘n roll bed.
  • Additional double bed in high top.
  • Leisure battery – Requires replacing.
  • CD player/radio with 4 speakers (2 front, 2 rear) and line in.
  • Over cab storage.
  • Hook up lead with 4 bank adapter.
  • New curtains.
  • Taxed

Recently MOT’d has had a replacement rear swinging arm fitted.  The body work is sound and runs well.  Took us to Glastonbury and on for a tour of Devon this year with numerous weekend jaunts into Wales.  Not in the first flush of youth but ready to go.  Cosmetically leaves you plenty of scope to make your own mark.

Select thumbnail below for a whole gallery of images!

 

A Book My Father Bought

Stories from The Arabian Nights Retold by Laurence Houseman
With Drawings by Edmund Dulac

Having transformed himself by disguise

My Mother said:

“With your Father it was either a book or something to eat”

Taking into consideration that statement and the fact book precedes something to eat, I believe it most probable that they went without their supper the day he bought this. Printed in 1907 and acquired by my Father in the mid fifties, before I was born, it was already in a sorry state and hasn’t, over the years, recovered. The binding is falling apart, pages are loose and there are signs of water damage. What is remarkably untouched and unblemished by the ravages of time however are the colour plates by Edmund Dulac. These have remained covered by titled tracing paper and are, I think, the reason my Father made this, at that time, extravagant purchase.

Select the cover below to explore these gorgeous prints.

Stories from The Arabian Nights Retold by Laurence Houseman With Drawings by Edmund Dulac

Clyde

November 1997 – 20th September 2012

I couldn't be happier

 

Clyde arrived about a year after we took on Bonnie and slipped comfortably into the role of her husband.  A rescue dog found by a neighbour in Roath Park he was six months old, according to the vet, and already a reasonable size. A Heinz Variety, possibly part Rottweiler, Clyde became Jacob‘s dog, as Hope had a male hamster called Wendy and Bonnie belonged to Anna.  Although his chewing phase stretched our patience to the limit, he had a penchant for Dr Martins and Sylvanian toys, he made up for it by being incredibly loyal and a ‘real’ dog.  By ‘real’ I mean he was not bothered with home comforts.  He preferred a cold tiled floor to a dog cushion, he sat outside in the rain, he loved camping and a true example of man’s best friend slept at you feet.

Clyde demanded respect not just because of his size, he asked for it.  He was a talking dog and would sit, fixing you with a stare, making various sounds which I am sure were his attempt at speech. If that didn’t grab your attention then he was extremely adept at hooking his nose under a protruding elbow to give you a nudge often, and with alarming regularity, when you had a glass of wine half way to your mouth.  Many visitors left our house with red wine stains down their front.

Although never vicious he could at times be intimidating.  If we ever play fought as a family he would muscle into the foray attempting to stop it.  Once when rubbing my sons bare feet against the bristles on my chin whilst he lay on the sofa and causing him to squeal, Clyde got into position, astride Jacob’s feet, almost nose to nose with myself and gave a low menacing growl.  I stopped.  Another time on returning from a camping trip to Cardiff he pinned a passer-by to the hedge as we climbed out of the car.  The poor gentleman had obviously been either too close to our house or in some way was perceived as a threat to the family.

Clyde would eat almost anything. Curry, chilli, tomatoes, cucumber even lemons were fair game.  We think he possibly developed the taste from scavenging at the numerous takeaways in our area before we took ownership of him.  He was also an adept thief, snaffling any titbits that were too close to the edge of the table when no one was looking.

Come on in

The thing he loved most, water (like Jacob). Not daunted by the waves at the sea and diving to the river bed to retrieve large rocks that he would bring to the shore, depositing in a pile, to what purpose we could never figure.

Loosing Clyde, especially so soon after Bonnie, has left a massive dog shaped hole in our lives.  The house has just not been the same with both gone and it will take time to acclimatise but they lived good lives and were loved by everyone.

Camping

Select this photo to view a gallery of photos of Clyde.

Bonnie

14/10/1996 – 11/08/2012 (Glamorstaff Red Sonya)

BonnieWe never intended to by a pedigree dog but when a former colleague informed me that they knew an owner that had to get rid of a Staffordshire Bull Terrier puppy because their older dog had taken a dislike to it, the temptation was irresistible. So Bonnie, at three months old, came into our lives, our first family dog and one which my children, now grown up, can barely remember being with out.

Bonnie Kennel Club CertificateBonnie, named after my Triumph Motorcycle, soon made her mark and our kitchen furniture still bear the scars of her puppyhood teething.  Always full of energy, eager to make new friends and say hello like a coiled spring she would leap onto your lap, chair, bed determined to lick every inch of exposed flesh, especially ears, that she could.  She didn’t confine her exuberance to family and friends either. Anyone was a fair target for her affection especially if they were sitting or lying down. One day, whilst walking through Roath Park, Cardiff, my wife (I bought Bonnie for her) let a friends child take the lead and they promptly let her off it. A rugby match was in full swing and a player went down possibley feigning injury. My wife shouted ‘Get up! Get up! Get up!’ but it wasn’t until Bonnies nose and tongue made contact with his ear did he leap to his feet, injury forgotten.  Another time, a man relaxing, reading a newspaper was rudely interrupted when she leapt through the centre of it to give his face a good slobbering.

Bonnie hated loud noises, especially fireworks.  Her reaction to this would be to destroy the first thing she could find, this included record collections, various plastic boxes, a kettle, kids toys, a badger skull and a wine bag (half of which she ate and we had to dose her with liquid paraffin to ease its exit). On the eve of the millennium she bolted from our house in Cardiff as we stepped outside to view the fireworks.  We thought we had lost her for good but fortunately she had entered a pub some miles away and a kind local phoned us, luckily she had a tag, and we were able to retrieve her.

I never met anyone who disliked Bonnie, even self-professed dog dislikers would warm to her.  She was a brilliant, loyal friend to all the family and will be incredibly missed. Goodbye Bonnie.

Goodbye Bonnie

... and relax

Select this photo to view a full gallery of photos of Bonnie.

 

Crystal

A most remarkable feline August 1998 – February 2011

img_1592

When my daughter, Hope, was seven we decided to get her a cat for her birthday and she was called Crystal. She came from a young couple in Cardiff, where we lived at the time, who couldn’t keep her. She was infested with fleas and probably wouldn’t have survived for much longer.  She was a tiny thing. The night before Hopes birthday we brought her home in my coat pocket and my wife Anna spent the rest of the evening with a nit comb cleaning and grooming her. She didn’t complain.

Crystal spent her first three years with us in Roath and soon gained the respect of our two (now three) dogs. She was a feisty little thing taking full advantage of having the dogs for back up should she run into some mangy tom.

When we moved to Herefordshire she quickly settled into country life but maintained her tough ‘city bitch’ attitude. Even my sons young Jack Russell was fast to realise that she was not to be tangled with. Having said that she was very affectionate with her family.  Coming in from the garden she would often give the dogs a quick lick before padding up to my daughters bedroom or jumping up on an available lap.

Sadly she became suddenly ill this week and died. My wife wrote a poem on the evening of her death which I think perfectly captures her essence.

As inevitable as the Shipping News, the Pips or God Save the Queen
That slight creak of the door, the inch of light and the jingle of bells
Then, that silent leap onto the bed
Soft padding footsteps through the downy duvet
With the smallest of meows you lean your body into mine
Then continue your journey to find a patch of skin
Bizarrely licking an elbow, shoulder, cheek or an eye
Until finally reaching your destination – The pillow
Where you pad and paw, extending and withdrawing those sharp claws,
Purring all night long.
Until morning, when with a stretch and a meow you follow me to the bathroom
Gentle soft footsteps downstairs to the kitchen
Where you encircle my legs as I fill the kettle
Letting you out of the kitchen door I watch you trot up the garden;
Always using the path
To annoy the neighbour’s cat or to bask in that patch of golden sunlight.

and my daughter wrote this some years ago, which does just as much.

My City Cat is spoilt.
She’s a pretty City Cat.
She’s an elegant
Yet arrogant
One minded spoilt Cat.

Goodbye Crystal, we miss you terribly (and I think the dogs do too) x.