I’ve said it many times, I know, but there’s something about the New Moon that seems to bring out the worse in people. Strangely, these are people who probably rarely look up at the heavens, unaware that there is a great silver orb up there that is not only causing tides to behave the way they do, but is even making people act well, peculiar.

Take yesterday. I was having a really good, peaceful day, getting on with my writing. All was well with Tylluan’s world. Then I had a complaint from a neighbour that my tree was – wait for it – shedding leaves! I could hardly believe it. The tree is over a century old, it is a beautiful, wise old tree, and in autumn its leaves are a sight to behold, yet some miserable twerp is grizzling because it’s deciduous???

Then just after midnight there was a domestic disturbance. I don’t mean chez Penry – perish the thought – it was out in the street somewhere but it was conducted at full volume for over an hour so that everyone within a mile had the benefit of hearing it. I still don’t know what it was about though. Mostly they used the same two words at each other, (go on, use your imagination) with varying degrees of theatrical innuendo, plus the plaintive ‘And why to me of all people?’ repeated with heart tugging pathos. There was a full scale punch up, too, much slapping around, running and panting. Even tears.

In the Valleys a domestic disturbance is considered a spectator sport, like some sort of free martial arts display. The neighbours all go out and listen. (No, I didn’t. I stood by the window and listened instead.) They stand on doorsteps, and sometimes shout ‘Shame on you!’ or, if the participants are between 18 and 30 ‘I’ll tell your Mam!’

The latter remark wouldn’t have worked last night, as the Mam appeared to be well aware what was going on since she was out there desperately saying ‘Shhh!!’ over and over. It appeared to be a father and son arguing about who’d said and done what to whom, and it got very nasty indeed. Last night it took several to referee the fight, uttering the near magical words, ‘Hang about now!’ when things looked like getting out of hand.

And get out of hand they did. And it went on, and on, and on. Once or twice they went back indoors, and you could hear them arguing in the house. Then it all spilled back into the street again, and all the neighbours dutifully filed out once more to watch (and listen.)

Finally, it quietened down though I suspect it was more due to hoarseness than anything else. They went back indoors. I heard a final, pathetic, ‘And why to me of all people?’ delivered with true, Welsh sorrow. (There’s nothing quite like it anywhere, believe me. It even made me feel guilty and I wasn’t involved!)

Then, when all seemed silent, Plod turned up. Yes, Little Plodwen Tatws (Little Policeman Potatoes – don’t ask) finally arrived, knocked on the door, and was admitted, rather sheepishly, inside. Once there he presumably laid down the law, told everyone to ‘Hang about now,’ and not be naughty boys again.

Finally they left. The doors in the street shut one after the other. I looked at my watch. They’d been at it hammer and tongs for over an hour. It was all beautifully quiet, as night should be. The tawny owls hooted mysteriously and the mischievous moon sailed over my village.

Me, I just went to sleep. At last.