And a happy and pristine 2019

BACK on Christmas Eve I wrote of a tree, not exactly in the middle of nowhere, but in a rural spot near the village of Penybanc at Llandeilo, that had been anonymously festooned with traditional festive decorations – apart, that is, from some delightful tree art, the work of some local youngsters. I named them as signed on their decorated slices of wood – names that were unfamiliar to me.

Living in a community means that someone will soon put you right – and I did an injustice to a couple of the names mentioned. First, Lydia is actually Lydia’s Child Care, and a mum of 11-year-old twin daughters. And then there was a name I guessed as Tal, aged 4. In fact it turns out that Tal is actually Jac.

But here’s the thing: the signatures of great artists are always difficult to decipher unless you have an idea what name you are looking for. And Banksy probably started off doing something simple and eye-catching like a Christmas decoration – and everyone I guess got his name wrong too. So keep at it, Jac.

Oh yes: come Twelfth Night and everyone had collected their decorations without leaving a trace of any rubbish beneath the tree – which is a lesson that road users should embrace given the state of our roadsides with all the rubbish discarded by vehicle occupants, cyclists, runners and walkers.

We are a nation desperately in need of nappies for adults. When I say adults, I mean nappies for vehicles, so that when things are casually discarded they are captured – and when drivers arrive home their mams can empty the nappy, even give them a good wash if necessary.

The state of the verges and hedgerows of our highways and byways is nothing short of disgusting.

Where has all this ghastly behaviour come from? Could it be that the nation’s mams and dads simply haven’t educated their children properly?