Iestyn Edwards is...what?

'My mother wasn’t prepared and forewarned about being evacuated, they just billeted her on some retired schoolteachers in the New Forest. Whereas, my granddaughter recently was given a forewarning photograph of her new infant school teacher.' 'Real ghosts vanishing always remind me of the shrinking dot of light at the very end of old television.' 'If your operation scar’s likely to be longer than six inches, always go private.' 'I just don’t think Bernard should be automatically in charge of everything. He’s selfish. He goes to Hastings every year the same two weeks and hogs the perpetual toaster. He tells us. As though it’s something to be proud of. And he expects the proprietress to keep his same table for meals and keep the peony in his vase dead upright, even if that means taking some of the fish tank gravel out of the vases on other tables. He checks, he tells us.' 'My immediate neighbour keeps telling her dog everyone loves it, which is blatant...

'If you wear anything you have to be asked about, don't.' 'Lots of big posh cars in the square today, occupants going up to the church. Somebody of self-importance must be dead.' 'He's one of that family that only look ginger from the front.' 'None of us on the till thought it was possible to override the takeaway drinks machine and do an oat milk hot chocolate. But Little Mary went on a mission. Sally and Big Mary were looking on, to see how Little Mary managed it. I stayed out of the way - didn't want any part, sorry. Took ever so long. Janice buttered at least three crusty rolls in the meantime. When she handed the drink over Little Mary asked the customer if it was okay, being a bit of a freak beverage, and he said it wasn't as hot as it could be, but that meant it wouldn't over-melt the marshmallow on his Easter Bunny biscuit, would it? Mary said, "All's well that ends well, then". But I could feel my own mind being stu...

On two occasions, a week or so before starting a house-sitting stint, I went to spy out the multiple dogs that would be in my care. Between that reccy and the owners going away, one of the dogs in each of the households died.  I imagined the pitiful horror of (me) having been the one to find the canine corpse. Running to fetch someone – who, exactly? The canine police and/or canine coroner?  Agonising between contacting the owners and ruining their holiday, or waiting for them to come back and the news immediately jettisoning the effect of any rest and enjoyment. Lurching about in distress like Lady Macbeth sleep walking.  Or Maria Callas in Tosca, having killed Scarpia, searching for Cavaradossi’s free pardon. Or – perhaps most dramatically - Hilda Ogden leaving the Street to a chorus in the Rover’s of “Wish me Luck as you Wave me Goodbye”.  Phew, frankly, that Mim and Tonto died pre-me.  The shock would almost certainly have brought on an asthma attack, bells ...

'I began as a Lucy Clayto n girl.' The woman was in her eighties, sharply dressed, hair in a sixties style. ' Deportment. That slight swivel walk. Getting in and out of cars. What blank expression to wear while a man lit your cigarette. How to eat your first mussel with a fork, and all subsequent mussels with the shell of that first one. Riveting and fully essential. You probably can’t believe I went in for modelling.' No, I assured her, I fully did. 'M y j aw really only does this nutcracker business because I get such bad depression. ‘ I did shop modelling at Fortnum's. Also, Fenwick's. Oh - now, then - also later on at the Co-Op. Their slogan being: Shop at the Co-Op and be Happy . I had to provide the clothes for that one. That didn’t make me happy. The canteen at Fortnum's was a cut above. We all loved it, our four-girl runway show. One of the four , Chrissie, was a bridesmaid at my wedding. In the order of service was a photo of my husband at twe...

                                                       'And the dreams that you dare to dream really do come true...' On the touring talk circuit with me just now are readings of MR James ghost stories, a biopic of Mata Hari and a surgeon giving a lecture on STDs. With slides. In the coffee break, nobody much fancies the Garibaldi biscuits.  Let alone the Jammie Dodgers. Also a talk positing that, from His behaviour in the Old Testament, God is gay, bi-polar and a chronic hoarder. There are one-man  Beowulf 's,  Tom Jones's  and  Under Milk Woods . Monologues on Lully's conducting accident, Beethoven's chamber pot spillage and  I was Benjamin Britten's First Mr Squirrel.  The imagined spoken record of a Stonehenge mason, of Michelangelo winch-hanging under the Sistine Chapel ceiling and of Tracey Emin unmaking her ...

I rang Traveline North Wales to ask if getting to Mechlyn Spa, North Wales, for a seven-thirty curtain-up next Saturday would involve kayak, farmer’s cart or donkey cavalcade. Nerys, helping me, sighed;  I heard  typing noises, and she gave me the time of a bus from Aberystwyth to Mechlyn Spa leaving at two-fourteen on that following Saturday afternoon.   And I didn’t ask for a second opinion as I have done with all call centre advice since a phone-psychic wished me luck with my third pregnancy. Moiling off the train and down the hill to the Aberystwyth bus station, I found the bus Nerys had highlighted only ran at two-fourteen on market day: every alternate Wednesday.   In three days, ten hours and fifty-six minutes time. Stranded in Aberystwyth.    Frazzled from touring as Madame Galina Prima Ballerina. Chronically sore where ligaments in the foot I favoured for pirouettes were trying to tunnel their way out via my Achilles. Two-hundred-and-forty-seven po...

I'm filling in forms online to do house-sitting.  Question.  How comfortable are you with using different types of home appliances and technology? In addition to keeping the property safe and secure, home owners would expect you to be able to use electrical appliances as and when required, also any security systems and smart home devices. Would this be an issue for you? Example answer (as given online): I was loading our family dishwasher from age seven. At age ten, I graduated to the washing machine. The oven came at age fourteen making scones with my grandmother. (Who pronounced the word of this loveliest of baked goods: sconn . But let’s not start that argument.) As I am in my late twenties — first Saturn Return getting underway, peeps — I pretty much grew up online, so am good to go with smart home devices and similar. When buying anything she calls ‘ether-technological’ my aunt Nelly will still wait at the checkout for them to give her an instruction manual. I know to ...