Day Two Hundred and Ten


Dew Cansves Dedh ha Deg

De Lün ew, an degves dedh warn ügens a vis Gorefan.
It’s Monday, the 30th day of July.

Qwarter òja whegh eur, o mergh wydn a dhifünas. Me a egoras o lagajow ha otta hei, reb o gwely! “A Vamm Wynn! Me a venja cawas crampeth rag haunsel.” “Ke dhe ves! Re avarr ew,” mèdham. “Ellama cawas brodnyon?” – hedna veu o mab wydn.  Fethys, me eth dhe’n gegin. Oyow, bleus, leth, kergh, shuger, oyl – me a fittyas boos. An flehes a geschaunjyas scüdellow – an voas a dhabras brodnyon ha’n maw a dhabras crampethen.
At a quarter past six, my granddaughter woke up. I opened my eyes and there she was, by my bed! “Nana! I would like to have pancakes for breakfast.” “Go away! It’s too early,” I said. “Can I have porridge?” – that was my grandson. Defeated, I went to the kitchen. Eggs, flour, milk, oats, sugar, oil – I cooked. The children exchanged dishes – the girl ate porridge and the boy ate a pancake.

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