The price of coal

I was checking the news from Wales from time to time during the day; it started with hopes that all four miners could be rescued. Then one by one they found the bodies - and just now they found the fourth and last. I didn't realise that these small drift mines were still being worked, in the steep wooded hillsides around Pontardawe.

The title of this blip is a quote from the song that's been running through my head all day; written by Alex Glasgow in the late 'sixties, it's called Close the Coalhouse Door. (He wrote the third verse about Aberfan). The final verse runs:

Close the coalhouse door, lad, and stay outside.
Geordie's standin' at the dole,
And Mrs Jackson, like a fool,
Complains about the price of coal.
Close the coalhouse door, lad, there's blood inside.
There's bones inside. There's bairns inside, so stay outside.

The photo is of a Welsh lovespoon (a gift from the Welshpool family when we got married). Dedicated to all the broken hearts in the Tawe valley tonight.