It's 1954 and another cold start to the day at Pensyflog. Mr Pritchard's woodbine smoke hangs in the cold air as he pauses on his morning walk to chat with Mrs Williams. What could they be chatting about I wonder... maybe Richard Burton on the radio narrating the recently deceased Dylan Thomas's Under Milk Wood, or how her garden looks uncommonly colourful for the time of year, or perhaps more likely they are just talking about the weather