Lovespoons!

Yn llawen a wnaf kydymdeithon ohonawch.

I don't remember many Welsh words from the class I took last year. We weren't learning it to speak it, and I have had little occasion to use it. Rarely do I find myself in social situations when it would be appropriate or useful to yell "pack of dogs" or "table" in Middle Welsh. But the above phrase, while it merely looks like a deranged string of typos, essentially means "I make companions of you in gladness." It's not much more useful than the other words I have retained, but does provide for a nicer opening than a random Welsh phrase related to stag hunting or conquest.

In any case, my class went on yet another optional but paid for day trip on Friday, this time to Cardiff, Wales, hence the rather lengthy discussion of Welsh vocabulary that preceded this. When we got off the train, I heard one of my classmates say, "Okay, this definitely isn't English," as she looked around at the signs. Of course, the signs all had English translations on them, so the vaguely harried tone I sensed in her voice was probably an overreaction.

We began our day at Cardiff Castle, which is the product of several different time periods and peoples. To the original Roman fort, the Normans and the Earl of Bute added a keep and a Victorian mansion respectively.

The normal keep part. For any Brice watchers out there, you can just make out my professor climbing the steps.

In World War II, part of the outer wall of the castle was used as a public air raid shelter. It's now eerily dark and filled with cobwebs along with a few reconstructed scenes from life in the tunnel. Apparently posters of carrots were very popular in air raid shelters because there were several posters featuring this lovely fellow, who was desperate to dance and be eaten.

After the castle, we wandered out into Cardiff to markets and stalls near the castle. And I discovered lovespoons.

I love spoons. I have several dear friends that are wooden spoons. Felipe, my first wooden spoon friend, spent many years slung through a loop on the shoulder strap of my backpack helping me collect strange looks. I also love spooning. Hell, I invented a game called the spoon olympics, which is three events of pure spooning fun. How could I not love lovespoons?

Lovespoonery has only been traced back to the seventeenth century, but was believed to begin before that. Men would carve spoons with designs to give to women they sought to woo. The designs the suitor chose to carve were meant to symbolize different things. As one might expect hearts symbolize love. Bells are for marriage. And, perhaps most appropriately, links of a chain are meant to show how many children a couple has together. Womp.

The lovespoons weren't only meant to show love and whatnot through the symbols, but were also a way suitors could show the fathers of eligible young women that he was a skilled craftsman and could provide for a family. Now, I don't need anyone to prove their craftsmenship to me through spoon carving, but I do firmly believe that spoons are the surest way to a woman's heart.

They're also useful for eating soup.