September, I'll remember...

So goes  familiar song from Simon and Garfunkel. 

September 1st and the start of another year for my teacher friend. I wish her well.

Once again the media is full of yet more government interference in education; my goodness, how they love their social engineering! 

I am thankful to have the inestimable benefit of retirement. Part of me still wonders how those returning to the 'chalk-face' continue to cope with the overwhelming burden of management directives. Teaching is hard enough without those whose education bears no resemblance to anything they inflict on children today. 

Cynical, that's me...whenever these initiatives are enforced

The guy fronting the initiative in the media...

Nick Gibb was born in Amersham, Buckinghamshire

•  educated at the Maidstone Grammar School, Kent
• Roundhay School, Leeds
• Thornes House School, Wakefield
•  College of St Hilda and St Bede at the University of Durham
•  received a Bachelor of Arts degree in law in 1981.

Therefore, he's from the generation of 'O' levels and 'A' levels, pre- GCSE which was introduced mid 1980s.

Whenever these initiatives are brought in, money has to be spent on resources. Someone authorises companies to do training, publishers bring out new textbooks and in these days, new computer software for schools.

The burden on teachers is to use an American expression 'ramped up'. No-one takes into account the endless hours teachers put in to getting ready to face the challenges, or the increasing stress levels.

 

It has been a poor year for toms.

When folk in widely separated parts of the country all have similar problems, there must be a link somewhere.

Discussing the situation, I have concluded that toms do not like the prolonged arid spell with for the UK horribly high temperatures. 

The heat was too much for me, and I guess the toms did not cope with the rapid rise in temperatures during the day. Nor did they like the resultant weeks of overcast rain-bearing skies.

If I think back to when I used to help in Dad's greenhouse at home and compare it with the same greenhouse some 30 years later situated here, I've never known such a poor year for toms. Hey ho! Another sign of climate change?

Ch-ch-ch changes

This has been a momentous week, mostly sadness. The untimely loss of someone who touched millions by his acting and comedic skills. 

The media have been awash with obits, some gentle, others not so. R. I. P. Robin Williams.

'Thought for the Day' on BBC Radio 4 is something I listen to rarely.  These days I am up and about well before the broadcast time.

Today, the speaker was Anne Atkins. I'll have to wait until tomorrow to listen again. She spoke of the melancholy associated with the life of a clown, comedy-tragic or tragic comedy and seamlessly worked in classical examples from Greek literature to the present day. 

Usually, if the radio was on and she was introduced as speaker, I'd turn the radio off. 

'Anne Atkins, a vicar's wife and Christian author is a regular guest in the three-minute slot,'

On the rare occasions I have listened to her my 'hackles have risen' and I am not alone, search her name to find examples.

tbc...

Now, thanks to the BBC web page I can quote...

"The year is 1806, the place London. A man seeks help for depression. “Normally I’d prescribe medication,” his doctor says. “But the pantomime on at Covent Garden will do you a lot more good. I cried with laughter. Go and see Harlequin and Mother Goose. Grimaldi will cure you.” 

“Ah,” sad the man sadly. “I am Grimaldi.” 

Not waving but drowning. The aria Vesti la giubba from Leoncavallo’s opera Pagliacci opens, Put on your costume and powder your face. People want to laugh. Turn your tears and distress into jest, your pain and sobbing into a funny face... Until the harlequin’s real life overwhelms him and the comedy turns to tragedy."

I had to find a more trustworthy translation...and ended up listening to the late, great Pavoroti performing that aria. 

"To act! While out of my mind,
I no longer know what I say,
or what I do!
And yet it's necessary... make an effort!"

I recommend watching Pavoroti singing the Aria and thinking about Robin Williams and the gaping hole his loss has left behind.

St. Swithin and a day of changes

Tories are doing a reshuffle.

I usually avoid politics like the proverbial plague. However, today, the media report that various people have changed places.

The one of main interest to me is Education.
I have friends who are still coping in this most burdensome occupation.

One friend is Head of a primary school and another works in one. 

True in the shuffle, the to date most despised incumbent at the Education department has been replaced...
But...the replacement is a former oppo of the PM so tarred with the same brush [deep sigh].

Uncomfortable truths?

Reading some posts earlier, brought to mind  past memories.

In the 1970s, education was one of the 'best' careers to be in. There was respect amongst educators, pupils and parents. They were a well-oiled team working to do the best with limited resources. Prime Minister Harold Wilson (Labour) gave teachers their best pay rise ever. Staff-rooms buzzed with promise. It was not all good news, there was bullying of female staff by male staff 'in authority'. 

One Deputy in particular would walk into the staff room and exclaim, ''Ah, my dear, you appear to be 'free'.'' Then delegate a class in need of cover to the unfortunate female. Rumour had it that the guy kept a 'wee dram' in his desk drawer.

Then came the 1980s when the seeds were sown and nourished by the incumbent Tory party which was almost communist-like in its zeal to oppress and to brow-beat the population, with the coal miners and school teachers as their targets of opportunity.

In came G.C.S.E. and out went C.S.E.

Once again England was a nation of discontent. 

The Tories ground down the miners and the teachers. Social engineering was carried out on a grand scale. 

There were strikes, the Govt.. saw the Unions as outright foes. London developed a 'get rich quick' - devil take the hindmost 'culture'. 

Unrest continued, social engineering went on at a pace. After the miners had been 'dealt with', teachers were in the spotlight, told they were not professionals. The annuity links between teachers and Civil Service were scrapped and millions ££££££ disappeared into government coffers. 

Traditionally, learning had been disseminated from universities to colleges and schools. Now the government intervened with its National Curriculum which still blights lives today.

For some 30 years the curriculum has been at the beck and call of ideologies, whims and fancies of successive governments.

What has happened to the teaching staff during that time?

Staffrooms are war zones where staff are bullied by line managers, Wooden Tops (aka senior management) and in some schools the bullying is done more often by parents and pupils. 

To adapt a well-known song...

Dark sarcasm in the classroom
Pupils - leave those teachers alone!

One school Head targeted senior staff and threatened them with loss of early retirement. He sought ways to remove senior staff, first demeaning them, then increasing workloads and belittling their efforts.

Simple maths 
Remove senior knowledgeable renowned and respected staff as a way of gaining 'control'. 

Next, promote yeah-sayers and lick-spittle. Those most malleable who would ask no questions. Bring in newbies with no experience but 'good' on paper. Saving money as you go.

Sign up your staff for mindlessly boring, time-wasting 'training'. Set one session in an hotel, pay for the cronies and lick-spittle to stay overnight at the school's expense...all in the name of 'training'.

As was common knowledge at the time...you ought not to accuse the then Sec. of state for Education because he had been sectioned and spent time in a mental institution before release complete with cert. of 'sanity'.

Then, another incumbent of that position was said amongst teachers to be....
quite literally...
'the blind leading the partially-sighted'.

One of the leading unions issued members with a work diary to fill in. That was when the Govt. claimed teachers' salaries were 'generous', since they were paid for 2765 hours per year.

The diaries were completed and made telling reading. Some conscientious staff had passed the requisite number of hours before Christmas. Others lower down the pay scale and with fewer responsibilities had clocked more the half the national hours. 

Then the bright sparks at the DoE (Dept. of Education) worked out a cunning wheeze. They enacted legislation instructing staff to do all reasonable to fulfil their obligations. No matter what the hours actually spent on preparation, form filling and all forms of mindless bureaucracy and red-tape involved plus contact time...hours officially remained at the notional 2765.

Part way thro' the 1980s and on into the 1990s pressure mounted on teaching staff. 
One of my friends left yo become a prison warder...seeing it as far less stressful, which turned out to be true. 

Another committed suicide.

Despite the fact that a member of staff was fulfilling her duties responsibly, the time-table was redesigned to make her surplus to requirements. That particular trick was used several times. 

Senior management harassed anyone with the temerity to really be ill, by demanding work from them.

Being signed off by a Consultant wasn't 'good enough'. One guy had a nervous breakdown and was forced back into the classroom.

By 2000 the gateposts were being moved and it became harder to qualify for early retirement. 

The Head that took over saw illness as a slight and personal insult. Her solution was to target the staff member by setting in motion the dismissal process. 

Fortunately, one of the governors was paying enough attention and when the dismissal proposal was put forward spoke up in the teacher's defence. 'You must not do that to 'n' all my children have been taught by 'n' and 'n' deserves better treatment.


The rest as the saying goes is history...

That school no longer exists, and in the year that 'n' retired staff were given a bonus because of their achievements.

The school that replaced it...completely new building from 'scratch' but lacking those members of staff that had shown moral fibre over the years....has slid further and further down the league tables...

This on-line apology for a life...

I used to comment that a computer was a typewriter that 'talks back', in the days before no ordinary folk had an on-line presence, Now in the age of connectivity, loneliness on-line becomes more apparent. 

Talking into the 'ether' only serves to make aloneness more up front and personal. On-line communities are an anathema. Communing as in really getting to correspond meaningfully is a hollow joke, as hollow as the electronic worlds themselves.

Years ago there was an on-line community that bore more of a resemblance to life. It was accessible to OU students. There people expressed their thoughts, beliefs and life events. Friendships grew and folk met up face-to-face, cementing feelings of togetherness. Later in the name of 'progress', the OU adopted formats ready-made by Google. Connections were sundered at a stroke. Some migrated to other platforms in the desperate hope that the community would survive. Needless to say, it did not.

Today has been a day of several folk deleting accounts, pulling the plug on on-line communities. 

Something to ponder...

Keeping cool - aka Fun Monday

Fun Monday for July 14th:
We're now mid-way through what most people think of as summer. What's your favorite way to keep cool?

Today, we went out and bought a replacement fan. Unlike other Fun Monday folk here in the UK we hardly ever get really high temperatures even in Summer.

Yesterday, for that was when this missive began, everyone felt enervated. Why? Well, the thermometer had reached 25C. Next week, south-east England might reach the dizzy heights of 30C.

Now, I know to some folk (Australia and the US) it would be nothing to write home about. In fact, I was reading just the other day that an Aussie friend was finding it difficult to cope with the 'cold' and her friends were in agreement. 18C and they were hunting for scarves and gloves!

I digress, in order to cope with 25C we employed our dehumidifiers and rotating fan at night in search of sleep. 

At teatime we enjoyed the typically English favourite dessert of strawberries, ice cream and cream (delicious). 

So, the doors and windows are open in the hope of a through draught...so it rained and at least made the air feel fresher. But, of course we shall enjoy our summer dessert treat later on. None the less, the dehumidifiers and fan will hopefully make things more pleasant tonight.

Quoting Dylan Thomas

“The sun declared war on the butter; and the butter ran.” 

P.S.

July 17 th

Sweltering? - in temperatures of 25+ C

The Met Office has declared a Level 2 health alert to run through to Sunday morning.

The warning is triggered when the Met Office forecasts there is a 60% or higher chance of temperatures being high enough on at least two consecutive days and the intervening night to have a significant effect on health.

For Fun Monday July 7th

Fun Monday for July 7th: 
What makes you glad to live in the country you live in? If you celebrated the 4th (USA), you can include a picture of that as well. We're feeling patriotic for this Fun Monday!

First I hope all my friends across the pond have a wonderful time of joyous celebration!

Next, returning to dearest Sara's topic and the question of gladness.

I have been mulling this over all day and finally decided that dear Olde England makes me glad, for its quirkiness and eccentricity. Not the numerous wise-guys of the twenty-first, or even twentieth centuries; but those that went before. 
Please note it is England not any of the other parts of the British Isles. 

Today's set of countries (apart from Ireland, which has the most gladness inspiring capital city, Dublin), are like toddlers always squabbling. 

The English language in particular makes me glad. No other Western country has seen language grow and morph like England. 

At present, I'm reading some books written in the 19th century (for pleasure). 

" Like some tall cliff, which rears its awful form, 
High o'er the vale and midway leaves the storm; 
Though clouds and tempests round its breast be spread, 
Eternal sunshine settles on its head."

Hulbert, Charles Augustus, 1804-1888. Annals of the church and parish of Almondbury, Yorkshire (Kindle Locations 196-199). London, Longmans. 

What a great description of England!

From another book

"Feb. 15. Thomas Tilsye and Ursula Russel were maryed; and because the sayde Thomas was and is naturally deafe, and also dumbe, so that the order of the form of marriage used usually amongst others, which can heare and speake, could not for his parte be observed. 

After the approbation had from Thomas, the Bishoppe of Lincolne, John Chippendale, doctor in law, and commissarye, as also of Mr. Richd. Davye, then Mayor of the town of Leicester, with others of his brethren, with the rest of the parishe, the said Thomas, for the expressing of his mind instead of words, of his own accord used these signs : 
first, he embraced her with his arms, and took her by the hand, putt a ring upon her finger, and layde his hande upon his hearte, and then upon her hearte, and held up his handes toward heaven. 
And to show his continuance to dwell with her to his lyves ende, he did it by closing of his eyes with his handes, and digginge out of the earth with his foote, and pullinge as though he would ring a bell, with diverse other signes."


Cox, J. Charles (John Charles), 1843-1919. The parish registers of England (Kindle Locations 1697-1698). London Methuen. 

Today I have been glad that our unruly weather has behaved itself, showing the West Riding countryside at its best as the Tour de France rushes pell-mell.

Another thing to be glad about it the lack of nasty creepy-crawlies. Unless one ventures into the wilds of the farthest south-west, there are no dangerous beasties. 

Trim

Today the neighbours employed a proper tree surgeon.

An early start to Fun Monday!

The lovely Sayre writes...
Fun Monday topic for June 23rd - Everybody's got a project of some sort going, whether it's reading a book, knitting a scarf, painting a picture (or a room), or planting a garden. What's your latest project?

Once upon a time, I'd have posted pix of knitting / crochet. Another time it would have been books. More recently the pix would have concerned OU studies. So what's gone on?

Time to post examples...

Looking back into the past...a mix of local history studies and genealogy research. Even tho' I say it myself, researching is something I've become good at doing. I love finding and finding out. Finding information, finding sites to help my researches and learning about people and places in times past.

Auntie Jean (born 1909)

Village events (May Queen procession)

Theatrical events

News from the past

Ads

A tad late - aka Fun Monday

One of the more noticeable things about retirement is that weeks have a tendency to turn themselves inside out. To explain, for most of my working life, work dominated my days, evenings and nights as well. Now, Mon-Fri are simply a n other days. Sat n Sun are for the workers to as my Dad would say 'Six days, shalt thou labour and on the seventh do all odd jobs.' Hence, it can take quite a while to realise what the day is today. I know Fridays because I go to Chen Taijiguan - Chen-style Tai-Chi. I won't have even that landmark this week. One of the Masters from the Chen village is over here to do workshops, our tutor and his two stand-ins are involved in the workshops this weekend.

What did I want to be? Anything but second-best. I knew what I did not want to do, and that was anything connected with sewing / tailoring. Briefly, I toyed with the ideas of journalism, librarianship and the Civil Service. 

Even when I left school I still had no idea.

Fortunately, there was a lady that worked part-time in the chemist's shop where I worked after leaving school. She changed my life in a good way, pity is I no longer remember her name. 

We had our tea breaks together and once she learnt I'd had a Grammar school education, she kept telling me from time-to-time how I was 'wasting my education' doing shop work.

By Spring I was applying to colleges and going for interviews.

That Autumn (Oct.) found me leaving home and going to college in Liverpool.

As they say, the rest is history.

Photo by permission of Chris Knagg.

It has been said that 'ignorance is bliss'

Sometimes having common-sense and a good education, make reading on-line posts a tad annoying. Social media has 'a lot to answer for'. Some folk would rather post a question to a group and sit back waiting for the answer to appear like magic, than do research themselves. This was the downside of belonging to an unofficial group. 

I'm grateful to the OU and to their library in particular for helping me to hone my research skills.

Starting with T171, You, your computer and the Internet, I learnt that basically, a computer is a glorified typewriter that talks back.

I've been reading some posts concerning genealogy in the loosest sense. Someone asking about emigration to North America in the mid 1800s couldn't understand folk leaving from the port of Liverpool. As the Americans might say a 'no-brainer'. Checking the Liverpool maritime Museum site, soon backed up what I thought was the answer.

Liverpool was in a favourable geographical position for trade with the 'New World'. Bristol had lost its position in the hierarchy of ports. People flocked to Liverpool to head West. From 1840-1940 some 9 million souls headed west. Between 1845 and 1851, Some 1,250,000 Irish left to escape the Potato Famine. 

Own goal

Before anyone imagines this post is remotely connected with events in Latin America...no worries.

Hillsborough dominates headlines and has done for many, many years. 
It haunts Merseyside and Liverpool in particular.

Looking thro' news headlines yesterday and today I noticed the growing bru-ha-ha concerning an attempt the Sun 'newspaper's' attempt to do a mailshot. Normally, it would not be 'newsworthy', but the latest Labour leader made a faux pas.

First there was the storm in a teacup over Skelmersdale posties refusing to deliver/handle that 'rag'. 

Then Ed Mlliband made an unforced error.

Quoting from the Liverpool Echo

Ed Miliband has said sorry to those he offended by his decision to pose with a copy of the Sun newspaper.

The full statement issued by the Labour party today read: "Ed Miliband was promoting England's bid to win the World Cup and is proud to do so.


"But he understands the anger that is felt towards The Sun over Hillsborough by many people in Merseyside and he is sorry to those who feel offended."

The Sun newspaper (rag) is abhorred on Merseyside. Hence, when the Labour 'leader' posed with that paper, no matter what the reason, he scored an own goal. Merseysiders have a proud heritage. Jokingly, Liverpool is referred to as the Capital of Ireland; it has a large Irish population, dating back to the days of the Potato Famine.

 © Copyright Peter Tarleton and licensed for reuse under this Creative Commons Licence

Image used under creative commons licence.

Searching

Not knowing whether or not to continue with the OU. Finding that with studies ended for now, there's more research to do (family history); have now joining two FHS (family history societies) Derbyshire and Yorkshire.

School class of about 1910-1912

The lady seated, with a baby on her lap is my grandmother. 

She died at the early age of 37 years old.

Advertising the family business (early 1900s)

Cyrus and one of his brothers, Frederick, moved from Huddersfield to Derbyshire. They began as joiners and woodworkers then as the business grew they had a timber yard and building business. Apocryphal family tales claim the business failed when the timber yard went on fire. Also, one of the family had let the insurance lapse. The family split with various groups heading to different places in Yorkshire and Lancashire, with a remnant remaining in Derbyshire.

Sunday best

Horse judging

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.

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.

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.

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.