musings (201) fun Monday (76) friendship (64) K9 (13)

Monday, 9 June 2014

Just cottoned on - Fun Monday

For Fun Monday, the delightful Sayre has asked to see some photos.

Happy to oblige with pix of my GSDs.

This girlie is the younger of the two (not related); she's now 18 months old. She's a pedigree long-coated sable.


Her male companion will be 7 years old in a couple of months.


But, I've chosen a photo of him when he was just a puppy.

Digging deeper


Going thro' a box of memorabilia, I found a small book, In Memoriam. One or more of my family must have attended the funeral in 1914.

I decided to see if more could be found out about Anne Kershaw Wood. Thinking Kershaw might have been her original surname, I searched without success. Then, I turned to find out about her husband, Samuel Wood, mill owner, one of the sons of John Hill Wood. The family were wealthy and Samuel and Anne were philanthropists. That's when I discovered Kershaw was her middle name, her surname was Sidebottom.

Now, her life began to unfold from my searches.

Born in 1838, in January 1st, baptised on February 14th. Anne Kershaw Sidebottom. William and Agnes had 7 children. 

They lived in Cheshire, that's why there's so much detail from the 

Diocese of Chester parish registers of marriages c 1538-1910

Thomas, Emma, Mary, Anne, Jane, Lucy and William grew up in Etherow House. 

Harriet Elizabeth Shaw age 18, born 1833 governess  from Bath, Somerset.

Servants

Margaret Bardsley age 43 born 1808 from Mottram, CHESHIRE.

Harriet Smith age 21 born 1830 from the Parish of Hayfield, Derby.

Mary Caldwell age 28 born 1823 from the Parish of Silkstone, Yorks.

Sarah Ann Freeman age 23 born 1828 from Barnsley, Yorks.

BETTY FIELDING age 19 born 1832 from the Parish of Penistone, Yorks.


Anne and Samuel were married in 1869, on the 21st in the Parish of Tintwistle (what a lovely name).

There's more to write, but I'll leave it for another day.


Making use of

my new scanner combo printer

I delved into a collection of memorabilia


This is one side of a postcard.

Girls' school with my Grandma in the lower right-hand corner.

Love the wording!


Am-dram


Judging the horses at the fair.


Sunday, 8 June 2014

Time's wingéd charriot

Once you pass a certain age, it's all downhill from there. 

Lovely surprise visit from one of our long-time friends. Then the talk turned to more serious topics:

Reading between the lines of conversation...

  • one friend has gone from A1 bright-spark to 'no longer at home' in rapid succession. Guessing she has vascular dementia.
  • Aged 93 and only two weeks away from 94th birthday, friend's mother has 'passed'
  • Friend was diagnosed with bladder cancer last year and is now undergoing remedial immune system boosting treatment.
  • His wife has been diagnosed with breast cancer and had lymph nodes removed. She's now over half-way thro' chemo and beginning to feel a little bit better..

Now to balance this piece with some happier news.

Recently, it has been the time for folk to visit us or so it seems.

First there was a friend who emigrated to S. Africa and set up a business there (accommodation) in Cape Town. He travelled here by ship (one of the cruise ships). Of course it was heading north as the season has ended in S. Africa for 2014, this is their Autumn / Winter.

Next, another friend was at a meeting a few miles away, so dropped in for a chat and play with the dogs before going home. That way he was able to relax, have a coffee and chat, whilst missing the worst of the traffic.

Friend and daughter (party)

Another friend was due to head north last night; but phoned to say he'd leave it until tomorrow. Tomorrow has arrived, it's late afternoon and still no sign of him.


Saturday, 7 June 2014

Borrowed

In the light of events and commemorations June 6th onwards...

This image belongs to a friend, I'm borrowing it and have given it a small dose of Photoshop. Thanks Chris x

War memorial Rishton, Lancs.

Which of course leads me to remember poetry studied years ago for GCE.

Wilfred Owen

My friend, you would not tell with such high zest 
To children ardent for some desperate glory, 
The old Lie: 
Dulce et decorum est Pro patria mori.


Friday, 6 June 2014

Looking into the past...

On and off for quite a while now, I've been dabbling with genealogy. I've become quite good at finding and using free resources. Lately I joined the ranks of the FreeCEN transcribers for Derbyshire. Once my current OU course finishes I aim to put more effort into transcription. I also joined the Derbyshire Family History Society and am considering joining the Huddersfield FHS. 

Being curious, I also took a look at the family trees of some of my English friends. How different they are to mine! For one thing, some people's ancestors seem to have followed the same occupation and remained in the same area. So, someone born in Lancs. has forbears living in Lancs. Not my lot...they range through at least three counties with some emigrating to Canada, the USA and New Zealand. 

I'm having problems with the maternal side as they were / are Roman Catholics.

Thankfully my paternal side were Wesleyans or / and Church of England. For that side of the family there's a wealth of information. I even have (somewhere) some birth and death certificates as useful evidence. 

Those that lived in Derbyshire included Aldermen and other local worthies. The newspaper shop in the village owned by one of my forbears is still a newsagents, but the owner is not a relative. 


Newspaper excerpt, early twentieth century

Here, I need to explain that although the clipping uses the term 'Liberal... in those days being of the Liberal persuasion bore no relation nor resemblance to any party using that term today.









70 years ago


Today the news has focussed on Normandy as it did 70 years ago today.
Unlike today's generation, mine grew up with relatives who could tell of what happened during the war.

Our house had blackout boards left from war time. Simple pieces of plywood cut to shape, fitted against the windows to stop light escaping in to the street.

We used them in the kitchen long after the war ended. They created a dark room for amateur photography.

There weren't many family involved in WWII; 
those lives had already been lost in WWI.




Thursday, 22 May 2014

Approaching the end in a happy way

As part of my continuing studies, I changed tack this year an chose an English course, Worlds of English. What a delight it has been! A complete change from the rigour of sciences. No paragraphs of almost unintelligible science language to decipher. But, wading thro' the nuances of English grammar was challenging at times. The difficulty being that methodology and orthography have changed out of all recognition since the days when I was taught English language at school. Nomenclature has changed too, no parsing,  no declensions, grammar has been re-written with more user-friendly terminology. First I had to unlearn the terms I with which I was familiar and learn new methods. Everything suddenly seemed more intuitive.


Borrowed from Facebook

Learning about Englishes, Singlish, Hinglish and Manglish (to name but a few) has been a delight. I have lost many of the strictures placed on me by learning English in the mid twentieth century.

The course team said that after one particular section, we'd never see / hear conversation the same way, and it's true. They asked use to view a conversation set piece then transcribe it using appropriate terminology. I no longer tend to let conversations 'wash past' because there's so much more than just someone talking to someone else.



Wednesday, 21 May 2014

On days like this...

memories surface of places and times past.

Those sunny childhood summers... Today the town has a swimming pool, bought by public subscription in the days when that was how things were done.

Previously, on hot, dry, dusty summer days we'd head for the river and walk along its banks to find somewhere to swim.
(i)
North-west and south west of the town the river is bridged and a public right of way follows along the river bank.
(ii)
Typical of the rivers in the area it once had mills along its banks. Here is the weir complete with salmon leap in the background. Below the weir the river divides and there is the 'cut' that once fed the mill with water for power. The mill and its waterwheel disappeared long ago, so to the small row of workers' cottages. I have to dig back deep into my memories, but as children we use to roam the banks of the river. One time we ended up at the mill and climbed a wall to see the huge waterwheel. (I was a braver soul in those days).
(iii)
Further down the river and a bridge in a similar style to the ones upstream. Here, people came, young and old, to bathe, paddle and swim in the river. Most folk chose the far side, with its unmade 'road' and later on a small car park. In summer, there was often an ice cream van parked nearby. My friends and I preferred the side of the river in the foreground. Less busy, because the river ran faster here.

How did we get there? None of our families had cars, nor did anyone think to get the bus. We walked everywhere, Shank's pony was good enough for us.

Although the river is much shallower now, in the early 20th century there were steamboats on the river. (Small ones, nothing like the giant ones elsewhere).



Acknowledgements
Images courtesy of Geograph.
(i)
 © Copyright Alexander P Kapp and licensed for reuse under Creative Commons Licence.
(ii)
© Copyright Christine Johnstone and licensed for reuse under Creative Commons Licence.
(iii)
© Copyright David Long and licensed for reuse under Creative Commons Licence

Tuesday, 13 May 2014

It is just not done...

to write anything negative about parents, particularly mothers. Much happiness to those who have or had delightful, friendly, supportive mothers. As you might guess, mine was nothing like that. The politest epithet I can thin of is to use a dialect phrase and call her an 'owd besom'.

So, to me the people in my life who were the most motherly were my great Aunt and my Aunt. Between them they helped me in countless ways, the main ones being that they never found fault and and always gave encouragement.

Odd as it might seem, some of my friends share similar thoughts about their own maternal analogue.


Looking at the Past

Until June 2nd life is shall we say a tad full.

OH and I have a number of appointments to keep, doctor, dentist and hospital. Factor in an EMA (OU) End of module assessment (3000 words). The remainder of this month is busy, so too parts of next month.

For some time I've been interested in genealogy, partly because there are so many questions but no-one to ask.

As OH once remarked (jokingly) losing one's relatives one after another is rather careless. Most of my relatives seemed to follow one another into the Great Beyond in the 1970s and 1980s.

So, today I have renewed a subscription (not the market leader). Also, I have volunteered for FreeCEN as a transcriber. Now I have received some files to go thro' Whitfield, Derbyshire 1861. I have a personal interest in that area. 


Monday, 12 May 2014

An historic weekend in Scotland

Groom

Wedding party

Smart lad

It is official now

Congratulations and felicitations


Bro and missus


Proud Mum, looking well

and Dad was there too.


Tuesday, 6 May 2014

May sunshine more like June in the garden

Still some bluebells in flower

Poppies

Wygelia

Wisteria - oh what beautiful perfume!

Climbing roses have begun to flower


If only you could smell their perfume...

Saturday, 3 May 2014

Borrowed from FB

At first I thought this was funny....
Then I realized the awful truth of it. 
Be sure to read all the way to the end!

Tax his land,
Tax his bed,
Tax the table
At which he's fed.

Tax his work,
Tax his pay,
He works for peanuts
Anyway!

Tax his cow,
Tax his goat,
Tax his pants,
Tax his coat.

Tax his tobacco,
Tax his drink,
Tax him if he
Tries to think.

Tax his car,
Tax his gas,
Find other ways
To tax his ass.

Tax all he has
Then let him know
That you won't be done
Till he has no dough.

When he screams and hollers;
Then tax him some more,
Tax him till
He's good and sore.

Then tax his coffin,
Tax his grave,
Tax the sod in
Which he's laid.

When he's gone,
Do not relax,
It's time to apply
The inheritance tax.



England today!

Accounts Receivable Tax
Airline surcharge tax
Airline Fuel Tax
Airport Maintenance Tax
Building Permit Tax
Cigarette Tax
Cooking Tax
Corporate Income Tax
Goods and Services Tax (GST)
Death Tax
Driving Permit Tax
Environmental Tax (Fee)
Excise Taxes
Income Tax
Fishing License Tax
Food License Tax
Petrol Tax (too much per litre)
Gross Receipts Tax
Health Tax
Heating Tax
Inheritance Tax
Interest Tax
Lighting Tax
Liquor Tax
Luxury Taxes
Marriage License Tax
Medicare Tax
Mortgage Tax
Pension Tax
Personal Income Tax
Property Tax
Poverty Tax
Prescription Drug Tax
Real Estate Tax
Recreational Vehicle Tax
Retail Sales Tax
Service Charge Tax
School Tax
Telephone Tax
Value Added Tax
Vehicle License Registration Tax
Vehicle Sales Tax
Water Tax
Workers Compensation Tax
Tax (VAT) on Tax.
And Now they want a blooming Carbon Tax!

STILL THINK THIS IS FUNNY?

Not one of these taxes existed 100 years ago, & our nation was one of the most prosperous in the world... We had absolutely no national debt, had a large middle class,a huge manufacturing base, and Mum stayed home to raise the kids.

What in the Hell happened? Could it be the lying parasitic politicians wasting our money?
Oh, and don't forget the relatively new bank charges....
And we all know what we think of Bankers.

I hope this goes around the UK at least 1000 times!!!

YOU can help it get there!

Friday, 18 April 2014

Neither Yay nor Nay

I must admit to being puzzled... 

For instance, there's the Campaign to End child poverty in the UK. I can imagine some folk wondering whether it's needed. The answer is a whole-hearted and resounding 'Yes'. 

The Office for National Statistics publish information on all sorts of topics.

Looking at N.W. England, child poverty levels:
Manchester 42%
Oldham 30%
Liverpool 35%
Knowsley  33%

One of my blogging friends lives in Chelmsford where child poverty is 12%

Another campaign made the headlines.. End Hunger Fast. call to end hunger in the sixth richest nation in the world
"On Wednesday 16th April national papers reported the staggering truth that 1 million people in the UK received emergency food parcels in the last year."

13.5 million people in the UK live in poverty.
Tax evasion and suchlike actions by the wealthy cost the UK £70 billion per year!

Yet, UK has the third highest GDP in the European Union.

No wonder I feel puzzled...



Monday, 24 March 2014

My brave friend

has started a blog

Her friends were shocked and alarmed to hear her sad news of deciding 'no more treatment'.

Several encouraged her to begin writing a blog. 

Today she has very kindly invited us to travel along with her via her blog. 

If you look at her posts, you'll find she's planning a tea party and has invited her close friends.


What a wonderful lady!


Thursday, 20 March 2014

jam tomorrow

To quote Lewis Carroll
White Queen:
“The rule is, jam tomorrow and jam yesterday - but never jam today.”

Folk have been 'digesting' the 2014 Budget speech - so that quote sprang to mind. Enough said.

2014 has hardly got under-way yet it continues to be a roller-coaster of lows with a few not so lows.

Anniversaries throng these first months, sad, sorrowful ones which have been supplemented by new ones. Several friends have lost parents recently. Yesterday came the woeful news as an OU on-line friend of many years told everyone her fight against cancer is coming to an end and she has decided no more chemo or suchlike. 

Borrowed from her on-line page
This is the brave lady...








Monday, 17 March 2014

Driving

Friend's son is a Triumph aficionado. So, she too likes said vehicle type. 
30+ years ago next door and next door but one had Triumphs. At that time himself had been driving Fords of various models. Cortina Mk I, II and III. Friends drove cars of similar vintage. I well remember driving a Mini which had a button on the floor (starter). The car's owner wasn't able to keep it in top notch condition and learnt the hard way when a wheel came off and went thro' a shop window.

Late 70s - early 80s and it was decided I ought to get back on the road. A mark #1 Marina was found and purchased. Gold seal engine but last owner had run out of funds and had to sell. Welding skills were practised and the car was repaired with Dexion shelving, one front wing became mostly filler. It did it's job and I enjoyed driving it. Later we sold it for the same price we bought it £100.

Talking with OH it seems that over the years he had owned 27 Fords. Then he bought an Opel Rekord Ascona Berlina, followed by several larger Opel cars. Opel became Vauxhall Opel and we had several larger models (Commodore). 

Then one fateful day, crossing Dartmoor, the screen went blank. Instead of the traditional dashboard, it had an electronic one. No visible instrumentation of any kind whatsoever!
We made our way to Helston and a garage where they attempted repairs. Several hours later...
Result? A connection had come loose. Once reconnected 'normality' resumed.


Tempus fugit?

You know when time's wingéd chariot has sped on and on when...
you get an email saying your former nemesis is no more. That's what happened today...
I must freely admit that grammar school was a battle of wits. The fist headmistress I came across was charming yet stern, everyone loved her... Then she was replaced by one that we called 'batty' as in bats in the belfry 'mad'. That's the one who's demise was published today.

Miss Bingham 


.She haunted my teenage years, yet her father got on so well with my Dad, it was remarkable. They were both keen gardeners. Such an odd situation, headteacher I and my friends did not get on with as we all remembered how good school had been under Miss Charlton. Dad and Miss Bingham's father chatting, visiting each other's gardens. 

The local paper has done her no favours with the photo they used.



Saturday, 15 February 2014

the more it rains...

With apologies to A. A. Milne
The more it rains
Tiddly-pom
the more it rains
Tiddly-pom
the more it goes on raining...

That has been the main headline news in the media for weeks on end. Videos and photos of rain-soaked, wind-lashed, wave-battered landscapes and people.
Met Office charts show incoming chains of low pressure areas like demented Catherine wheels racing across the Atlantic. 
Today's chart from UK Met Office

Low 958 mb centred over the Irish Sea with tightly-packed isobars.To the west about mid Atlantic a weak ridge of high pressure 1039 mb. The closer the isobars, the stronger the wind. Met Office warns of strong to gale force winds.

Porthleven in south Cornwall, near Helston often feels the brunt of Atlantic breakers. But in 2014
image from the Guardian (The sea rages as it thrashes the coast at Porthleven, Cornwall. Photograph: Bernie Pettersen/SWNS.com)

Then there's acre upon acre of flooded farmland in many parts of England.

Listening to Radio 4 Farming programme this morning, hearing of the plight of farmers and how various farming communities are rallying round to help those stricken by the floods.

And as they say, 'to put the tin hat on it'...reports from various on-line news Falmouth Packet and West Country on line to name but two...came an infuriating story...

Offers of help for the Somerset Levels from the Dutch were turned down by the Government just last weekend, according to a report by Channel 4 News this evening.

It beggars belief! The Dutch are world leaders in marine engineering and hydrology. 

“We told the British government that we had pumps, emergency dykes and sand bag-filling machines available, but they said there was no need for any of this help at present. They said they only needed expertise, so we have sent a team of four dyke experts to the UK.”
A Defra spokesperson told Channel 4 News: “We are grateful for the support from the Dutch government – so far we have borrowed eight very high volume pumps and have several Dutch engineers assisting us in Somerset. We will continue to discuss our needs with the Netherlands and other EU partners.”
So like Nero who allegedly fiddled while Rome was burning...the ConDems are fiddling whilst England drowns.

Thursday, 13 February 2014

Twas wild Wednesday

Should be thankful the damage was not worse... Four ridge tiles and a few rosemaries. 
With all the storms lately getting hold of a builder to do some repairs might take a while. Fortunately himself is still okay to do some repairs. But, it comes at a cost (pain). His knees as he says are 'shot'. The solution might be knee replacement surgery? But in this day and age known as 'austerity' people are expected to put up with and shut up. 


Wednesday, 25 December 2013

Friday, 6 December 2013

Rum and shrub, brandy and lovage Part I

Just had an online conversation that has stirred bittersweet memories of times past. There's something about this time of year, days shortening followed by a return to longer daylight hours that inspires reminiscences...

Cornwall  in the far south west maintains a separate identity in culture and language. For many, many years we would spend weeks down there. In fact, we'd run away from the day job and treasure holiday times living in Cornwall immersing ourselves in the area. 

When I knew it at first it was a tin mining area, hard rock miners and many our friends were miners past and present. With our love of geology and industrial archaeology the area acted as a magnet drawing us to explore more and more.

Botallack, and Levant now taken over by the overbearing auspices of the sterile National Trust. We knew them before they were made part of a collective 'estate', when we could roam free with the dogs and meet scarcely a soul for hours upon end. 

We imbibed in local hostelries and sang our hearts out... 'Goin' up Cambourne hill, comin' down', the 'White Rose' and of course 'Trelawny.' Tell Man the folk singer raising everyone's spirits as the walls reverberated with song.

Roaming the coastal path for days on end. Filling our lungs with the fresh, bracing Atlantic air. Watching the squalls beat in and Atlantic waves crash against forbidding granite rock cliffs. No matter the weather, the two of us and our dogs revelling in the Cornish landscape. 

Then at night and sometimes into the early hours conversing with folk who spoke broad Cornish. Learning and using such phrases as 'damned ee no!' and 'madder do ee'?' Welcoming being addressed as 'Pard' and 'Maid'. Turning as brown as a berry in the sunshine, watching for ripening blackberries to pick from lanes and 'hedges'. A Cornish 'hedge' is not be confused with the ordinary kind. The wily Cornishman built stone walls of granite rocks along the winding lanes. A work of art and geometry, placing individual pieces just so. Then, nature takes hold and plants work their way into crevices. Soon the whole takes on the appearance of a grass bank, but be warned it has a granite core.