Day Hundred and Seventy-four

Cansves Dedh Paswardhek ha Trei Ügens

De Sül ew, an pajwora dedh warn ügens a vis Efan.

It’s Sunday, 24^th June.

An gewer o perfeth e’n mettin, tòbm, cosel ha dison. Nena an flehes a dheuth ha gans anjei tros ha deray! “A vabm wydn, gwag o vy! Eus dehen rew?” “A vamm wynn, ma nown dhebm ewedh! Me a venja gwil badna cowl.” “Ellama pobas tesednow, mar pleg?” “Nag eus debrys genowgh?” “Tas a wras brodnyon ragon.” “Ma whans dhebm a liwya!” “Gwra debry en kensa.” “Ellama lappya an bolla?” “Me venja licky an lo!” “Gerowgh nei gwary e’n lowarth.” “A vamm wynn! Tilly a wrüg pôtya dhebm.” “Indy a’m dhornas en kensa!” “Pana bres a wra mabm doas? Me a vedn moas tre.”

The weather was perfect in the morning, warm, peaceful and quiet. Then the children came and with them clamour and chaos. “Nana, I’m hungry! Is there any ice cream?” “Nan, I’m hungry too. I’d like to make some soup.” “Can I bake cakes, please?” “Haven’t you eaten?” “Dad made us porridge.” “I want to paint!” “Eat first.” “Can I lick the bowl?” “I want to lick the spoon!” “Let’s play in the garden.” “Nana! Tilly kicked me.” “Indy punched me first!” “What time will mum come? I want to go home.”