Day Forty-seven

An Dogensves Dedh ha Seyth

De Sadorn ew, an seytegves dedh a vis Whevrel. An gewer o da lowr rag gonis e’n lôwarth. Thera odhom dhe nei a worra emann styckednow moy rag gwitha an kei dhort scappya e’n coos.  Drog ew ev. Ev a wrüg chassya an gath e’n coos. An gath ell crambla gwedh ha moas dhe omgüdha en neb bush - bes an kei eth dreysys e’n dreys.  E veu res dhebm y sawya – ha cravys o vy gen dreyn ha spern.

It’s Saturday, the seventeenth day of February. The weather was good enough for working in the garden. We needed to put up some extra fencing for preventing the dog escaping into the wood. It is naughty. It chased the cat into the wood. The cat can climb trees and hide itself in some bush - but the dog became tangled in the brambles. I had to rescue it – and was scratched by prickles and thorns.