David...

You know that life is a bit boring when all you have to blog about is what day it is. Goodness knows what I'll do tomorrow? Maybe I'll have to invent some day or other 'Frangipan Friday' or 'Saint Trembles Day' or something.

Anyway, back to today, March 1^st, St David’s Day and my dad’s 75^th birthday.

I mentioned this fact on Facebook this morning and got some great responses when I asked my Facebook Friends to guess his name…

Rumplestiltskin – Well, he does have a tendency for foot stamping.

Dafodil – Yes, he’s a veritable ray of sunshine.

Saint – Could be. He can change wine into water, it’s a family trait.

Alphonsa –That’ll be his Mafia connections then.

Jeff – No, he’s not really a Jeff kind’a guy. No submarine you see.

Rather imaginatively though, his parents called him David. Well, they were from darkest Lincolnshire and not really given to thinking long and hard about the naming of their first born.

Yes, my Dad’s name is David after the Saint, Dewi Sant as they say in his native Welsh (look you).

I think old Dave must have been quite a character. He’s the one who came up with the Monastic Rule of David, making a monk’s life one long party in the process.

They were banned from using beasts to pull the plough and had to yoke themselves up to pull (f’naw f’naw), were only allowed water to drink – no beer or wine, it was bread, salt and herbs at all meals, and to amuse themselves in the evenings they could play pool, cards, or beat each other with hot towels… only joking. Evenings were prayer, bible reading, illuminating bibles, prayer and then even more prayer… much like my childhood really.

Yes, Dave must have been a bundle of laughs to have around the place and even better he’s said to have lived to be 100 years old. Just imagine that - 100 years of Monastic Rule of David… what a happiness that man must have been. Just imagine…

“What’s for tea Dave?”

“ Some nice bread, a little salt and I’ve got some really tasty herbs from Jones the herbalist, aven't I?.”

“But we had that yesterday, and the day before. In fact we’ve been having that every day for the last ninety years or so. Where’s the variety I ask you?"

“Well, we have water as well and not that usual stuff, I’ve managed to get some from St. Cybi’s well, guaranteed to cure the ague and the pox.”

“Gave me the trots last time, and I've still got the pox”

“Now stop complaining look you, we’ll have some fun after dinner won't we. I’ve got a brand new prayer to try out.”

“What, no Bible work?”

“ We’ll do that after if you’re good, now eat all your bread and herbs – more salt boyo?”

Thinking about it, he really does make my dad look like a Saint.

Happy 75^th Birthday Dad, here’s to the next 25.