Years roll by

That young grandson of ours sitting on that quad motorbike with me is now 18 years old. He has a lovely steady girlfriend, and a job which he enjoys as an electrician.

How the years roll by so quickly.

Our eldest son is a vet in Melbourne, Australia. He and his lovely friendly wife Jane - who is a microbiologist in Melbourne, are also here on holiday. They are in a bit of a dilemma as although they both love living in Australia, they also have a small 50 acre farm here in Wales where they keep horses mainly. They do miss their families back here in the UK.

My other son Russ, lives here with Margaret and I and his very pretty and friendly girlfriend Victoria from the Ukraine.

Black market

Illegal drugs, such as cannabis, can be fairly easy to obtain from 'back street traders'. Some people believe that cannabis use can encourage youngsters - in particular - to move on to stronger drugs, such as crack cocaine or heroin, with devastating consequences.

I think that if lower classed drugs such as cannabis were legalised and available from 'approved sources' it would help to spell the demise of the black market supply chain.

In America, legalising alcohol led to the demise of the millionaire gangsters who were making fortunes selling illegal alcohol.

Three years ago, a statement was made in the House of Lords, stating 'We now have sufficient evidence to convince us that a doctor should legitimately be able to prescribe cannabis (taken orally) without fear of being prosecuted'.

I'm looking forward to seeing how our Sandie is getting on with her Cannabis trial.

It is interesting that when I was having much pain, the doctor put me on morphine. The side effects of this addictive substance were dreadful, much worse than cannabis. Yet the doctor was able to prescribe it legally!

Domin

As I mentioned in an earlier diary, a very pleasant Italian prisoner of war (POW) stayed with us during the Second World War.

His name was Dominica Petrela, but we called him 'Domin'.

My father applied for an Italian POW to assist help him on our farm in 1942. My father made it clear we needed a farmer. We were told that Domin was a farmer. However, it soon because clear that he was a market gardener, and how no idea how to milk our cows or plough the fields!

In his spare time, Domin fenced off a little piece of land in which he grew many delicious vegetables. As we were on very strict rations during the the dark war-time days these were very welcome. We obtained a civilian suit for Domin which was more suitable than his khaki suit, with its big red patch on the back and two red patches on each leg.

As Domin was a POW someone had to be with him at all times and usually that person was me. I really enjoyed Domin's company so I didn't mind that at all. We cycled many miles together. Domin would cut young willow branches from which he made lovely baskets, some square and some round.

The war ended in 1945 and Domin received some very sad news from home. His father had died and this made Domin very sad. However, his girlfriend Francessa was still waiting for him at their home just north of Rome.

As he was leaving us, Domin said to me, 'Glyn, you have always been very kind to me and I will write to you after I return home'. I was very disappointed as he never did.

I taught Domin some English words and he taught me some Italian words. These came in very useful many years later when I was confined to Holywell Cottage Hospital. The nurses were begging, "Does anyone speak Italian, please?". As no-one else could help I replied that I could speak just a little Italian. (It's amazing - almost all Italian words end with a vowel.) This made me remember my friend Domin again.

I often wonder what happened to him after he returned home.

Television

I'm not always sure whether it's a pleasant honour, or just a nerve racking ordeal, but I have been on the television numerous times over the past 20 years!

About 12 years ago, I was asked by the BBC if I would appear on a 'Songs of Praise' programme, which went off very well. When Cliff Mitchelmore asked me for my choice of hymn, I told him that I would like the hymn 'Count your Blessings'. Cliff asked me why I, having MS, would choose that particular hymn. I told him that as I had a wife and 5 disgustingly healthy children and the law of averages would say that one of us should fall ill, I thank God that it was myself, and not one of my excellent family who fell ill.

Since then, and for different themes, I've been on TV many more times. Not because I'm good looking or anything like that! Before this wretched MS put a stop of my being an unopposed District and Community councillor (a priviledge which I loved), and was quite happy talking in public and made several TV appearance.

After MS arrived on the scene I was asked to go on TV again, this time because in our MS Branch I was the only Welsh speaker. Back in 1980, I was one of four people with MS who kept a HBO (hyberbaric oxygen) unit at Saltney (near Chester) going. It's still going strong now, with many other therapies now available.

TV crews have been there a number of times, and yes, inevitably, with muggins has been on it!

This last month, I have been on the television twice again, both times on the S4c channel and in speaking in my native language, Welsh! I spoke of how I am coping with my MS and the fact that we are moving from our farm in the next month or so. I was also sure to mention the tremendous benefit I have experienced through taking cannabis, which I am able to acquire on receipt of a doctor's letter confirming that I genuinely have MS. The cannabis is available free, in delicious Belgium chocolate.

I have found cannabis even more effective than the morphine sulphate that I was prescribed after it was confirmed that I had a cancerous tumour, 2 years ago. So if you live in Wales keep an eye out, because you never know when I'll be making my next TV appearance!

Electric wheelchair

I received my new electric wheelchair yesterday!

It seems far better than my previous one. However, after watching me use it the two ladies that brought it here decided that I shouldn't use it until their mechanic came to make a few alterations that would make it even more suitable for me.

Now the mechanic has come and gone and my new wheelchair is ready for me to use! To get me onto the wheelchair my wife Margaret has to get me onto our hydraulic lift which lifts me from my bed into the wheelchair. Also, if I want to use it, it means my wife has to get our hydraulic lift to lift me from my bed onto the wheelchair.

I haven't had a chance to use it so far today because our youngest daughter came here with her three young children.

There have been many criticisms about our NHS (National Health Service), but I have always found it excellent. However, when something pleases or displeases me, or some news item appears that gets me thinking, I always write a 'Letter to the Editor' of the newspaper concerned. It's my way of 'letting off steam'.

Back in the day, I was an unopposed District and Community councillor. It was a vocation I loved until the devastating onset of MS put a stop to it.

In many ways, I was more sorry about being compelled to give my Council work up than my farming. But 'Thy will be done' as they say, and 'When one door closes, another one opens'.

As my colleague Sandie said recently, writing our diaries for Jooly's Joint is one of the them, so my sincere thanks for giving us that privilege.

First farm

In 1955, when Margaret and I were married, there was a lot of family friction in our farm house between my father and my mother. So after we married, Margaret and I decided to move to Saighton.

I worked as a head tractor driver at Saighton Lane farm. Margaret worked part-time at Bruera egg packing station.

My weekly wage for up to 72 hours a week, and after deductions for rent, milk, eggs, tax and insurance, was just £10. Margaret's wage was £5 per week. So our combined wages came to an astronomical £15 a week!

Nevertheless, in less than two years, we managed to furnish our house with just the essential bits of furniture and saved up £120.

With an Aunt of Margaret's standing as guarantor for £500 we started a farm of our own.

Ours was a Flintshire county council 11-acre farm. We started out with just two Guernsey cows!

Then through our very hard work we progressed through a series of larger county council farms until we ended up in a 120-acre county council farm, milking 72 Guernsey cows plus their followers!

Our determination to have our own farm really stemmed from my loving pro-Welsh, anti-English father. His last words to me were 'Go and marry this English girl then! You are just an ordinary farm worker always will be!'.

Margaret and I were both determined to show him different, and we did!

Home by train

A few years ago whilst I was up in an MS respite home in York I noticed a sign on the wall that said 'We will transport patients to and from York train station'.

So I asked the receptionist to find out how much it would cost for a single fare to Flint station.

She told me £18. I thought that was considerably cheaper and more convenient than for my wife to come on a 180-mile round trip to pick me up. So I didn't hesitate in booking it. I was told I would have to change at Manchester Station. No problem.

My wife Margaret asked our daughter Gill "What do you think, Gill? Your Dad is coming home by train from York". Gill replied, "That's OK, Dad knows what he's doing".

So the day arrived for me to return. The respite home arranged to take me and my equipment (a briefcase, a suitcase, two wheelchairs (one portable, and one electric on which I was sitting), a battery charger, and a radio/cassette player) to the station. We waited a few minutes for the train.

When it arrived I drove my wheelchair onto it whilst they loaded my bits and pieces into the carriage.

As we arrived at Manchester station, two ladies sitting opposite me informed me that there were two stations at Manchester. I asked them would they ask a porter to check which station I needed to get the train to Flint and not the station where the train went to Penrith.The porter returned and informed me to stay on the train and it would take me direct to Flint station.Which it did!!

All's well that ends well!!

With all the many criticisms about our railways, the service I received that day was excellent!

They do say "let the train take the strain" and in my case it certainly did.