Fos-y-Rhiew
Geoff and Rover. Geoff actually had two sheepdogs, both named Rover. When the playwright asked why two dogs with the same name he said, “Colby, I call one, they both come.”
Geoff Morris seen here in 1994 at Fos-y-Rhiew, his small farm on the border between Shropshire and Mid Wales. The playwright was his neighbor the summer of 1988 and again in the winter of 1993-94.
Tea time at Fos-y-Rhiew.
Geoff in front of the open fire in his kitchen. The floor was slate. The fire burned every day of the year.
Geoff could read a little and write a little.
Note pot on the windowsill where the chicken sat for two days.
Geoff’s farewell note to the playwright
Geoff’s smile.
When the playwright helped him write checks he would say, “Sun shinin’ keep smilin’.”
Geoff with the playwright at his 70th birthday party at Fos-y-Rhiew in 1987.
Geoff and Rover with the playwright that cold winter after he ate the chicken in 1994.
Geoff looked like this when I found him the day he nearly died.
Fos-y-Rhiew coming to an end. Geoff went to live in Stone House in Bishop’s Castle where he was well cared for until he died. When the playwright visited him there, he thought they were living on a farm, with rabbits. He would urinate in the potted plants in the hallway — always an outdoor man.
Geoff’s gravestone a five minute walk from Fos-y-Rhiew.