Who would have thought that the royal baby would have sparked such strange reactions from the far flung reaches of the British Isles. The Scottish nationalists have said they will have a referendum to prove that Scots do not want him to be their king one day (they are already going to have a referendum on whether to leave Great Britain).

And this item came from the Welsh (although I suspect it's tongue in cheek... but you never know)

Now give us the baby, say Welsh

24-07-13

THE Welsh have demanded the royal baby be given to them so the initiation can begin.

To the Gower!

The dark and mountainous principality, which believes it is ruled by the baby’s grandfather, has dispatched a team of tiny warrior monks to collect the child from Kensington.
The monks will take the prince to the Hall of Dragons on the tip of the Gower Peninsula. There he will be placed in the arms The Great Gryffd, who will school him in the mystic ways.
The process, known as ‘The Rite of Caradog’, will take seven years after which the child will be returned to his parents, filled with ancient wisdom and resentment.
Owain Glynwyryn, of the Council of Elders, said: “We will teach him how to fight, not with his fists but with his mind. And also with a bottle.
“We will tell him tales of heroes and victories until we have washed every drop of Englishness from his true Welsh heart.
“And if that doesn’t work we’ll just hold him upside down.”
After the monks collect the baby they will ride at full gallop for the Welsh border where the infant’s loyal subjects will line the road, holding burning torches to light the way to the Hall of Dragons.
Glynwyryn added: “Release him unto us, for it is his destiny.”
A Buckingham Palace spokesman said: “Absolutely not.”

Land of my Fathers

I've just spent a couple of very wet days in North Wales--trying to show my grandchildren what I did when I was a child. But alas the weather was typically Welsh--it poured and poured. Great areas were flooded. The mountains hid themselves in cloud. Riding the train up Snowdon was out of the question.
And I'd also forgotten that Wales shuts down on Sunday evenings--we had a hard time finding a restaurant open.

But they loved the castles--it stopped raining long enough to do Conwy and Caernarfon castles and I relived many a summer vacation in Wales in which we tramped miserably, decked in raingear, and wondered when we could get the next cup of hot tea! I remember one summer when my father and I bet each other we could swim in the sea every day. It was so cold and blowing that we drove the car to the very edge of the ocean, stripped off, raced in, swam out and back, got back in the car and drove away!

I'll try to download pictures tonight and post some--but I've had two great tea parties I want to tell you about!