Well now.... Where to start. Firstly, maybe it would be wise to explain the name of the farm.

In my first language, Cymraeg - Welsh - it has been called 'Fferm CwmOnnen' for nearly a thousand years. When we started putting this web-site together, we discussed using English on this web-site to start off with. We intend to move on to the Language of Cymru (Wales) when it will be running well, and we have established some level of visitors. Also, the web-mastering is being done by an english speaker, a Saesneg - Or as they say in The Scotland a Sassenach - the same pronounciation, just spelt differently. I reckon English is already hard enough for him to cope with at times! No, really only joking.

Cwm means Valley. Onnen means the ash tree. The rest is self explanatory. The farm has been in my family now for ten generations, I estimate since about the 1750's at least, so every inch of this 'great hump' of living rock is in my genetic memory so to speak. I know every square foot of it, essential if I get lost in a white-out or a storm. I can find my way down, although Bet (my sheep dog) goes off and usually arrives home a few hours later. Anyway, I will try and bring some of this heritage to life for you. Let me start with the present.

I have, no matter how I insult him, a 'crazy' Englishman, who also won't go away - get on out of my world. A few years ago he started having all night bonfires which he amazingly called Bar-b-Ques. The fact he had them in a little nook, somewhere inside the 12 or so miles of parameter fencing, to Fferm CwmOnnen. They were 'big'! That the local butcher was cleaned out of steak, and stuff, gives you some idea of the fare and the fun. As he got older, "There is life after the operation" he says, we started drinking what he called medicine. I am also a confirmed 'barrbi' freak! No, we have not got round to throwing another 'lamb' on the barbbi, but we are getting there. (There is a shortage of prawns above 1,000 meters altitude!) I started off with a 45 gallon oil drum, cut in half down its length. Then there was a stand, then there was a wall, then there was a cover with temporary pull round wind breaks. Then unexpectedly the 'crazy Sais' called it 'Squire's Kitchen' And it stuck! So have a look at the Bar-b-Que after nearly five years. This black and white photo, by the way, was taken by the 'Sais' on his 'box' camera. His all night bonfires were here by the stream, down in these hollows. The fire-place of the farm bar-b-que is the next photo for you - a close up. You can just see the engraved wooden plaque saying 'Squires Kitchen' - That was a birthday present from the family a couple of years ago. The second photo is a wide angle shot with the evening light creeping away into the shadows. This extra 'out-door' space is wonderful in the summer. We get some wonderful quality sunsets. Over the years we have had them all colours. Red, yellows and even purple and blue. It is the rich 'red ones' which hold the magic. A night like this, viewed from Barmouth Promenade or at the end of the Llyn Peninsula, looking west the seventy odd miles to Ireland, can be quite a life-event for the last few nights of your holiday. Of course, getting a good night like this is pot-luck. However when the evening sky clears after a heavy daytime storm, this is the sort of sunset we can expect. On a summer afternoon, with the garden, the Bar-bi, (that could be spelt Barf-y-ciw in Welsh I imagine.) the evening sunshine provide us with a wonderful environment and atmosphere highlighting the wonderful views. Some call them breathtaking, even we do not take the location for granted. Protection of the environment is important to me. I have undertaken several schemes to preserve and encourage wildlife, trees and the wild birds. I have seen the return of the Barcud Coch (Red Kite), and recently I was delighted to see a full grown Eryr Aur (Golden Eagle), with an enormous wing span that must have been eight feet. However, take a look at our garden, you can see the views down the valley to Bala Lake in the top left corner of the photograph. This is our home and business, so when I say call and collect your order I mean it. You will always be welcome.
The husbandry of this high land demands stamina and lots of energy. Things are easier now for me than they were for my forefathers. I have a Quad-Bike that will climb almost anything, so the climb to the top is not so demanding as it once was. I was once able to get to the summit in 30 minutes! Even on the Quad if would take me longer than that. I must have been fit! Here is a picture I am very proud of. My father, Mr Gwwynli Thomas, a'top of the Aran's. A few years ago now. He is in his eighties today, and still talks, on a fine dry day, of wishing he was able to make the top. It must be twenty years since he was up there last. So, now you have met my father. Would you like to meet my grandfather. An American Citizen, Chief of.... But I am jumping too fast. My Grand-father Dafydd Thomas, was one of 14 children. He lived with his mother here on the farm. He worked over the other side of the mountain in the valley of Dinas Mawddwy. About 6 miles and two thousand feet up and down the other side, twice each day. Like many men in this valley, he walked over the top, summer and winter for the equivalent wage of 25 'old' pence a week. About 13pence in new money! He had elder brothers who, as they grew up, moved away. He, like them, reached the age when 'moving away' was the only option. Funny how things have not changed in over 100years. My own four sons all work away. Manchester, Birmingham, Wrexham. In today's world they can at least travel home for an odd night and some weekend from 40 to 70 miles away. In 1894, when he was 18 years old, my grandfather went to work in the cotton factories of Liverpool. There he was able to earn 5 times what he had earned for such killing work at home. With the railways opening the valley (the old line goes past the end of our road in the valley below) travel to Merseyside and Liverpool became easier. This brought more frequent visits home. [Roedd wedi bod yno am Flwyddyn pan gafodd lythyr gan ei fam yn gofyn iddo fynd i chwilio am Rowland] One week, in 1896, while at home my Grandfather was asked by his Mother to find his elder brother, Rowland. He had stopped sending letters home and she was getting worried about him. "Will you go to America to find him?" she asked. Even in the 1800's America was an even bigger country than it is to day. The physical barriers to travel had yet to be fully conquered. "Gwnaf, Mam", was the reply. In a few weeks he had bought a ticket from Liverpool to New York, through the immigration procedure and, immediately he was searching for his brother. In New York's Welsh Community, they said, "Yes, we have seen him. There is money waiting for him here, so he will be back." That was not good enough. Dafydd Thomas was on a mission. After more enquiries, he set off for San Francisco. There was a rumor that Rowland, had gone to the California goldmines. Getting to Frisco was the first difficulty of many. At last, he arrived at the address given to him, and asked, and asked, had the owner seen his brother Rowland. 'Yes, he is up country in the goldmines. He will be back in a month. As a stable lad at the hotel, he waits for the day. Then the shout goes up, "The steamer is coming!" - He watches the men disembark. Seeing his elder brother my grandfather walked towards him on the jetty and knocked his arm as he walks past. Just to get the words 'I'm sorry!" in Welsh, I suppose. Anyway, his brother did not recognise him, well how would he, he was the least expected person. He watched his brother go into the Hotel restaurant. He followed him in - "This seat taken"? He asked his elder brother for the opposite chair at the table. "No", was the reply - "Help yourself". Suddenly his brother recognised him and said "Deio wyt ti, dywed?" There is a very sad end to the story, but in 1906 my grandfather came home to farm CwmOnnen, at that time, he was an American Citizen, and stayed so for the rest of his life. I suppose that would give me a 'Green-card' if I wanted one! I promise to finish this story off - if I get enough requests. Drop me an e.mail and ask me - It shall be done. Well that is it - before I go, let me tell you a recent story. When we started the web-site, we wanted to display 'Organic' Aran-Lamb, in the modern setting of its transit box, and in the old-fashioned half-lamb basket. The idea was that my daughter Emily' would dress in traditional welsh costume, and holding the basket, she would display the old fashioned image of a 'Tudor Serving Wench' with your delivery of lamb. Computer Images can be such a let down. You just cannot get near enough to get the detail. If you try and do it on the web-site, you loose the color to get the definition. Anyway, here is Emily on the standing stone in the middle of the CwmOnnen fields. You can see the Aran mountain towering in the distance. Well, that is it for the present. I shall finish off the story of my grandfather's visit to America, if anybody asks me. Until the next time. - I look forward to seeing you, here on the farm, in the future when you call to collect your order, maybe. Till that day, stay healthy and happy. Kind Regards. Maldwyn Thomas.
P.S. You may like the better pictures of my Father and Grandfather. - Just 'Click' on the ewe's head below. (I mean the sheep's head.) Hwyl. [Bi for now]