In case you have forgotten what Christmas is all about I am posting a picture of my little friend Sophie, the  senior angel at her school  Nativity play.

And here is a video which is a particular favourite of mine.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QvxLAHcsvRE&feature=related

Christmas Day

Following on my discourses on Christmas food  -  eat, drink and be merry for tomorrow we diet !

HAPPY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE.

More Christmas Food

Christmas pudding.  Pudding cloths were introduced in the eighteenth century and plum porridge became plum pudding cooked in a cloth in boiling water. When boar's head became scarce other joints, including turkey, replaced boar.  The pudding became the second main course and was drenched in brandy and set alight.  The Victorians  introduced the idea of  hiding silver charms in the pudding. A ring meant a sweetheart but a thimble meant no sweetheart for a year.  (Yesterday I found a thimble in my Christmas cracker so no luck for romance for this year !)

Mince pies date back before Elizabethan times.  In those days the pies were made with meat as well as spices and fruit.  They were oblong in shape and were said to resemble a manger.  It is said that for every mince pie you eat you are promised a happy month so the object is to eat at least twelve.

Christmas Food

It would appear, according to some of the menus, that everyone in the well-to=do houses in earlier times over indulged at Christmas.  Christmas dinner consisted of a vast number of courses.  The meal began with the traditional boar's head followed by Christmas pudding.  These two courses were brought in accompanied by loud cheers and blowing of trumpets.  The pudding consisted of  a kind of porridge boiled in a pan, made out of beef broth  thickened with breadcrumbs  and flavoured with raisins, currants, prunes and spices.. Then the real meal began consisting of beef joints, roasted swan,, venison, capons , peacocks and many side dishes.  These were followed by sweetmeats washed down by copious draughts of ale.  Remember Charles Laughton in the film Henry VIII tossing the bones to the dogs?  It makes our feasting sound positively frugal..

Carols

I thought my Danish friends would like to know that I have just spent a delightful hour listening to a concert of carols from the Garrison Church, Copenhagen as part of a BBC programme "Christmas around Europe". A lot of the programme was in English and most of the carols were familiar.  I am really getting in the Christmas spirit.

Christmas is Cancelled

In the year 1652 Christmas Day in England was officially cancelled.  The Puritans ruled the country  and they strongly disapproved of keeping any day special except Sunday, "the Lord's Day". So they passed an Act of Parliament to cancel Christmas 1652, and to show they meant it, they decided that Parliament would sit just as on any other day of the year.  Everything was banned - from mince pies to church attendance.

John Evelyn, the diarist, defied the ban and went with his wife to church.  He recorded what happened.  As they were receiving communion a party of musketeers broke in.  They waited till the service was over then arrested the worshippers.  They soon let them go however, unsure how to punish people for going to church.

Christmas is Coming

It is that time again when I have to put on my thinking cap and prepare for Christmas.  I have sent almost all my cards.  It is a pity if the price of postage prevents people from sending cards.  It is often the one time when far flung friends get in touch and if I don't send people will think, seeing how ancient I am, that I am already sitting on a cloud playing my harp.
Today I have baked the Christmas cake.  I have been watching the cookery programmes on TV.  Indeed they are so numerous it is difficult to dodge them.  Some of the dishes are so elaborate that, though clever, I find them quite ridiculous.  I shall not aspire to such dizzy heights.  I am what my mother used to call "a good, plain cook".
I have been listening to a book by Lilian Beckwith  about her time living on a remote Scottish island, beautifully read by the actress Hannah Gordon.  I was pleased to hear one of the characters say, on the day after attending a wedding  "Ah well, it's back to old clothes and porridge."  A favourite saying of my mother's  when getting back to normal after a  celebration.

Winter

I love the sight of snowy fields,
The sparkling sun on frosty lawn.
I love the robin on his twig,
Looking lost and quite forlorn.
These cold and wintry scenes of which
The versifiers never tire
Make me so glad that I can be
Snug and warm beside the fire
Watching rubbish on TV.

Today's Date

From Jay May's Book of Uninteresting Facts.

12. 12. 12.   It will be 100 years before anyone can again write the day's date like this.

My Fab Five!

Just one of the rare occasions when all my five grandchildren were in the same place at the same time ...

Floods

We are fortunate to live well away from any danger of flooding.  The unceasing rain caused havoc in many areas and much misery.  I can just remember when the Thames burst its banks in 1928.  Water flowed up our street inundating the little cottages below us.  This was followed by a plague of rats, one of which made a nest in our chest of drawers.  Flossie, our dog, killed it.

When I lived in West Dulwich in south London our Victorian house had a large, deep cellar leading off the scullery. This small scullery had three doors and I suffered terribly with chilblains caused by the draught from garden and cellar when doing the cooking and washing etc.  In the cellar we kept the coal and coke delivered by horse and cart.  On occasions the cellar would be flooded, not deep, but a nuisance.  The river Effra was converted to the sewerage system in the 1800s to carry away rainwater and now ran underground.  Part of its course ran through West Norwood and through the large cemetery. where incidentally, Mrs. Beeton is buried,  and on under our road.  It went on through Herne Hill under Effra Road to Brixton's Water Lane. then to Kennington and into the Thames at Vauxhall.  One of London's underground rivers.

I had to  go down a number of steps with a bucket and shovel to fetch the coal and coke upstairs from the cellar.  Not a nice job if the fuel was wet.  On one occasion I brought the coke up for the kitchen boiler and was amazed to see three little frogs hopping round the kitchen floor.

Georgette Heyer Again

I have just listened to BBC radio 4 programme "A Good Read" where they discussed Georgette Heyer's books.  How I longed to join in and champion her novels!  The lady presenter loved her, the young man was fairly luke-warm but my lovely Peter White, the blind broadcaster was, s most disparaging.  Only to be expected, I suppose, because the books are, after all, women's books.  But what a lovely comforting read! No mention was made of the humour in the exchanges between the main characters, especially in "The Reluctant Widow"  and "The Grand Sophy".  Who cares if the plots are basically the same. This can be said of Jane Austin and many others.  These books are "A Good Read".
   

A Family Day

Yesterday was a very happy family occasion.  My son and daughter-in-law came from Folkestone where they are spending the long half term holiday.    The French schools have a fortnight off at this time.
Despite the proliferation of electronic computer games the boys (and grown-ups) spent a happy day playing Snakes and Ladders, Ludo, Dominoes, Rummy and other card games, playing the Ukulele and singing English nursery rhymes.  What conclusions do we draw from this?  That the art of amusing ourselves without the ubiquitous Telly is not yet lost!
The boys have had an exciting week.  They were invited to a Hallowe'en party by a friend of their big sister where they dresses up and had a sweetie hunt.  Then they went to a fireworks party and had lots of nice food.

Scene:   The playground of a school in France.  Two teachers are talking.  The first teacher says  "I have a little English boy in my class".  "So have I" says the second teacher.  "I think they should meet each other" says the first teacher and calls " Lloyd, come here. I want you to meet Hamilton.  He is English like you".  "I know" says Lloyd.  "He is my brother".

Power Cuts

I suppose what I wrote about the storm of 1987 was small beer compared with what has just happened in the U.S,A. Being without electricity is catastrophic.  Everything we use these days seems to depend on a regular supply of electricity.
Looking at a diary entry for November 1950 I see that we had a power cut and I was having a frantic hunt for matches and candles. Power cuts happened quite often and would last for two or three hours so I should have been prepared. We were living in a large house in London and I had just brought a load of  rain soaked washing in from the garden which I would have to dry by the fire. (No tumble drier in those days).  There was a shortage of coke for the kitchen boiler , a brute to get going anyway, so there was no heat in the kitchen and no hot water. I had a new gas cooker and we had just had a delivery of coal for the sitting room fire.  The coal was delivered by horse and cart.  There was a horse trough opposite our house where the horse stopped regularly for a drink of water.  One winter's day the water in the trough was frozen and the coalman came in my kitchen with an enormous bucket to get some water for his horse.
Even so long after the war ended there was still a shortage of many things.  It would appear that I was obsessed  with buying an extra blanket as I was expecting my sister-in-law and family to stay.  I had been to Brixton and Croydon but no blankets were to be had.  As it turned out it didn't matter as the boys got measles so they didn't come.  Life was very fraught in those days.  Now if you have the money ( or even if you don't) you can go to the shops and buy whatever you want.

Time

I am still somewhat disorientated  by the changing of the clocks. I would prefer that we stayed with summer time. I don't like the long dark evenings.  I know the Scots and the Islanders don't agree but I can't see why they can't have their own time changing at the border.  We manage quite well with an hour's difference with France which from the south of England is only 21 miles away.   Time zones work in the U.S.A. and in Russia. Perhaps if the Scots get independence that's what they will do. When I worked shift duties during the war I always seemed to be on night duty when the clocks went back which meant working another hour.  When the clocks went forward I always seemed to be in my bed thereby missing an hour's sleep.  Ah well! Such is life.

Hurricane ?

25 years ago on October 16th Don and I spent several very early hours sitting downstairs in our living room  trying to shut out the noise of falling tiles, banging gates and rolling dustbins as we sat out the Great Storm of 1987.  It had been an evening of torrential rain and high winds which grew steadily worse and woke us in the early hours of the morning with a noise like a hundred banshees howling and banging.  The rattle of tiles coming off the roof made us decide it would be prudent and safer to spend the rest of the night downstairs.   There was a danger that the chimney stack might come crashing through the roof. It was pitch dark as the electricity had failed so we sat there by candlelight praying for the storm to pass.
Daylight showed scenes of desolation.  Trees were leaning over at odd angles though because we were sheltered none had fallen in our garden. Cars had been blown over. Shocked neighbours were surveying the damage.
We found out that whole swathes of woodland round about had been flattened.  Shop windows had been blown in and goods ruined.  Worst hit in the storm was the south east, Kent and Sussex.  A large Sealink ferry was driven on to the beach at Folkestone.  Caravan parks were wrecked and caravans reduced to matchwood.  Buses and lorries were overturned.  roads and railways were blocked by fallen trees.  Because of this people struggled to get to work and many businesses were closed while the staff who had managed to get there spent the day clearing up
Our local builder found a tarpaulin to put on our roof to keep out the rain until repairs could be done.  Everyone was in need of a builder. Our man sent his very elderly father to replace our tiles and mend the gutters which had fallen off.  I was really worried to see this tottery old chap up a ladder but he made a good job of it.
I believe about 20 people lost their lives.  Looking afterwards at the terrible damage the storm had wrought I am  surprised it was not more.  We can do nothing when faced with the forces of nature..

Random Thoughts

My computer has had a fit of the sulks for a couple of days.  It would not do anything we asked it to.  We had to send for the computer doctor.  I remember my neighbour way back in the 1980s receiving a computerised bill for one thousand pounds instead of  ten pounds and saying "computers don't have a soul to be damned or a backside to be kicked".  (Only he did use a more vernacular word than backside.)

I am still being amused by TV subtitles.  Yesterday  a lady said she spent her time pulling the heads off  chrysanthemums.  The subtitler said pulling the heads off flowers.  I suppose he couldn't spell chrysanthemums!

Today has been another lovely autumn day and I sat in the sunshine enjoying my lunch.  I walked, rather slowly, to the shops and came back , even more slowly, after sitting down in the Co-op.  There are three seats for weary customers to recuperate after trailing round the shelves, and in my case, peering at the labels where the writing seems to get smaller each time I shop.  However, the assistants are very nice and helpful and will scour the shelves looking for what I want.  To return to the seats - they are made of metal and most welcome but rather cold.  I think they should provide cushions.

Pain

I discovered some time ago that I can only deal with one acute pain at a time.  When my children were small I was up half of one night suffering from raging toothache.  In the morning I cooked breakfast for my husband, my mother and the little ones.  Then I got my five year old  son ready for  school.  This  involved shorts, tie, blazer and cap.  (Oh that cap !  Over the years I must have spent hours searching for it.  The day we bought it my son insisted on wearing it all day and finally went to bed wearing it.)  I put my daughter in her push chair and put on my shoes.   In one shoe was a wasp which stung me on my big toe.  The pain was excruciating.  I wrapped a rag soaked in vinegar round my toe.  (Bicarbonate of soda for bees but "winegar for wasps"   easy to remember.) I  took the children to school, came back with my daughter and realised that though I had a sore toe I no longer had toothache. I also found out why my husband, who spent nearly 5 years in the Far East, always banged his shoes on the floor before putting them on.

For the last few months I have had at frequent intervals a very painful arthritic ankle.  Since my accident , when i nearly knocked myself out and did sundry damage to my poor old body I have not, touch wood, noticed my ankle.  QED

First Aid

Man greeting lady covered in bandages  " Hello,  have an accident?
Lady replies " No thanks.  I've had one".

Two lovely black eyes

"Can't think, brain dumb,
Inspiration won't come.
Can't write, bad pen,
Best wishes, Amen"

This was written in my Autograph Album, about 80 years ago!  I'm reminded of it because I was waiting for inspiration for my blog a few days ago, when disaster struck.

Duvet covers are an invention of the Devil: difficult to get on and off, and to launder.  I was putting my duvet cover to air in the sun in the conservatory when I caught my foot in it.  In a nanosecond, I was hurtling across the room.  I bruised my knees.  My forehead struck a shelf.  I have bad cuts on my hands, through trying to save myself.  And to cap it all, as the song says, I now have "two lovely black eyes".

By great good fortune, I didn't break any bones.  Perhaps it pays to be well padded.  A&M came to my rescue, and patched me up.

Hove

The last two Saturdays have been beautiful September days. One Saturday we went right along as far as the lagoon and the Fish Market. The beach was full of people enjoying the sunshine and having picnics. The colourful beach huts were open and families were taking advantage of the last of the summer weekends. On the lagoon youngsters were learning to water-ski and sail, and using paddleboards and canoes. Lots of children were having fun on the swings and apparatus in the play area. Altogether a very happy scene. The Fish Market was very busy and we bought some lovely fresh fish for our supper.

This Saturday six of us had lunch at an Italian restaurant to celebrate two family birthdays which fell this weekend. We then walked along towards the pier. Our American friend, a keen photographer, took many photographs of the busy scene as "the world and his wife" enjoyed the September sunshine.

London Fire Brigade

When I was a child in London there was built, at the bottom of our street, a huge building that was the Headquarters of the London Fire Brigade. There was a grand opening by King George VI. The front opened on to the Embankment in Lambeth with exit doors for about seven fire engines.

Their was a drill yard where the trainee firemen practised their craft. In the yard was a narrow 100 foot tower with windows on each floor. We watched the displays where the firemen would hook a ladder over the window sill and climb up and the sit astride the window sill and hook the ladder on to the next one up, It took some nerve . Dummies were brought out and lowered to the ground. Occasionally the dummy would be dropped causing much mirth among us children. This was not a good thing ! We liked to watch the turntable ladder being raised. All the young boys would be wishing to ride on it.

The firemen also had to learn to control the heavy hose squirting water into the windows. Next to the HQ was a small ancient public house. I remember the water from the hose missing its target and flooding over the pub roof. One wag who was watching said "That's watered his wallop down a bit".

Georgette Heyer

When I was very, very much younger I was a great fan of Georgette Heyer. I read all of her Regency novels. In a much regretted moment of generosity I gave my collection of paperbacks to my next door neighbour, probably prior to our move to Canterbury. Now I am enjoying them again thanks to Calibre Audio Books.

Her novels are like a country dance. Choose a partner, set to partners, then set to corners, back to partners, then a mad gallop round the ring till you get breathless at the finish. All her heroines are high spirited , independent minded young girls, her heroes are at first stern, even morose with broad shoulders, a firm jaw, smouldering eyes and a fine leg. The rest of the cast consists of a steady, honest pale young man and a sweet ninny of a girl plus a Duchess or two and a plethora of dowagers with a malicious propensity for gossip. Despite misunderstandings all usually comes right in the end which is why I find it soothing bedside reading.

Her Regency books have descriptions of Brighton and Bath of that period and she was said to have given the best written account in a novel of the Battle of Waterloo. She is great on describing the fashions and has a lovely sense of humour in the repartee between hero and heroine.

She also wrote some quite clever detective stories. In my opinion she is much under-rated. In these days when period drama is so popular on TV I think she is worth considering.

Days Out

Sometimes life is just one long round of pleasure. Two Sundays ago we spent a lovely family day in beautiful sunshine in M's lovely garden in Ringmer. Lunch stretched into afternoon tea !

This last Sunday we went to a village close to Bath to spend the day with our friend from Tokyo who is visiting her family. Another perfect day in convivial company. Then yesterday another visit to my good friends in Seaford for coffee and cake and chat and laughter. A lot of giddy gadding about courtesy of Mike and Amanda.

Felpham

When Don's parents retired they moved from Aldershot to Bognor. We spent many happy holidays with them especially when our children were small. Grandad would rent a beach hut at nearby Felpham. [Pictured left, Roger with his big cousin Ian, on Felpham beach.]

We would walk the couple of miles to the hut carrying all our impedimenta in the pram along with the babies. We went every day no matter what the weather. We had a small methylated spirit stove. We cooked soup. potatoes, eggs, sausages etc. We made tea and Grandma would give us home made cake and biscuits. The only facilities were a cold water tap and some loos.

[Roger aged 5 took this picture of Don and me outside our beach hut in 1958.]

Between the rows of huts and the beach was, and still is, a grassy lawn on which we played cricket. When the tide was in our children would join others playing on the grass. When the tide was out we made magnificent sand castles and looked for crabs in the rock pools, we went swimming and paddling and had a lovely time. Ice creams from a small shop were our only expense.

Sometimes we were joined by Grandma and Grandad and other members of the family or friends from London who would come for the day. If it sounds idyllic that's because it was.

This is why a couple of years after his death Amanda and I went to Felpham to scatter Don's ashes. A place of happy memories!

Frensham

In the late 1930s Don and his friend Arthur would cycle from Aldershot to Frensham Little Pond near Hindhead and go skinny dipping. After their swim they would make a small fire and cook sausages and bacon for their breakfast. As a family we would all spend many happy days there, swimming and having a picnic. In the 60s we would go in our splendid old Humber Super Snipe. I would sit in the back feeling regal like old Queen Mary waving to the populace. I think this was the car with running boards on which my two young nephews used to ride as we splashed our way through the small ford on our way to the lake. So much for Health and Safety. I think swimming and boating has been forbidden now. Too many people, I expect. It is a beautiful spot and could so easily be spoilt. Boating and swimming is allowed on the Big Pond nearby.

One Sunday Don went to the rescue of a man who had got into difficulties and saved him from drowning. Some years later Don and I were in a rowing boat when a man in the middle of the pond started shouting for help. Don rowed over to him and told him to hang on to the boat and towed him ashore. A remembers there were leeches there and I vividly remember being bitten by a horse fly but Don said all these hazards added to the enjoyment ???

Swimming

Talking of swimming my brother Frank took me to Lambeth Road Swimming Baths when I was about eight years old. The second visit I got a bit too bold and found myself out of my depth and started to panic. The lifeguard armed with a long pole with a hook on the end hooked my swimming costume and brought me spluttering to the side. He then said to me "Get in and stay in the shallow end". I was afraid to get in again but I was even more afraid of this big man with the pole so I got in again.

The Baths was a very big building. Besides the swimming pool there were facilities for washing oneself and one's clothes. There were often queues for the slipper baths where one waited on wooden forms for one's turn to have a bath. There was also the washhouse where you could do your laundry. Many people did not have access to even cold water. The tap might be in the yard and have to be shared with several other families. We were lucky enough to have a cold water tap in the kitchen and a copper under which you lit a fire to provide hot water for baths and doing the laundry. This latter was only lit twice a week, on Mondays for the washing and on Fridays for baths.

I enjoyed swimming and during my schooldays swam at Westminster Baths near Buckingham Palace. 1940 was a hot summer and as I was often on night duty in Brixton I would go in the daytime to Tootimg Bec Lido for a swim. After the war, while living in Dulwich, I swam at Brockwell Park Lido. These were excellent places to spend a summer afternoon. I think Tooting Bec is still in use. Lambeth Baths, at the corner of Lambeth Road and Kennington Road, was badly damaged during the war and has been demolished. I expect the many places in London where you can swim are vastly smarter than in my early days.

Spectators

Didn't we do well? as one TV quiz host used to say. A remarkable three weeks. My family have been doing their bit going to London to watch various events. A was one of 81,000 spectators at Wembley to watch the football. All the competitors were very good but the spectators cheered, sang, jumped up and down and were magnificent !! My grandson has been so often as spectator adding to the general euphoria that I think he should do a Lap of Honour ! My contribution has been to cheer on TeamGB from my armchair. Although I swam well into my eighties I can no longer run, jump or do anything more athletic than walk to the shops. My PB for going to the Post Office, the Coop and Boots is 55 minutes. (I must try to improve on that). Life's a struggle. This morning I think I deserve a gold medal for putting on my socks !!

Going for Gold

Olympic fever has really grabbed us all. After watching Britain's success in the rowing and athletics yesterday I went to bed quite exhausted !

Last week we had guests staying here - a couple with two teenage adopted Chinese daughters. They went to London to watch the gymnastics and didn't know whether to cheer for Britain or China. They were very impressed with the organisation especially the volunteers at the railway stations being so helpful, telling people where to go for tickets and the tube and etc.

After all the doom merchants it is great to see the supporting crowds who rejoice at victories and suffer disappointment at defeats almost as much as the athletes themselves. The contestants showed real sportsmanship. It makes one feel good about our youngsters.

I have just watched the women's marathon passing all the wonderful London landmarks. Buckingham Palace, Admiralty Arch. the Tower of London, the Big Wheel and all those examples of modern architecture all new to me. Although I worked in Whitehall and close to St. Paul's Cathedral how bright and clean it all looks today. My memories of the city are of 1940s London with bomb craters and ruined buildings and boarded up shops ! Even in the rain today it looked nice and when the sun shone it looked superb.

Can I bear now to watch Andy Murray striving for gold?

I did and he got it. Hooray !!

The Typewriter

My typing speed is not quite as fast as this! La maquina de escribir ... http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G4nX0Xrn-wo

Taxes

I have spent the last few days putting off dealing with a horrid form sent to spoil my watching of the Olympics by the Inland Revenue. How I wish Don was still here. What is the good of being married to an Inspector of Taxes for years and putting up with all those awful jokes if he is not here when his nasty bosses send me a form to fill in. I really should have paid more attention . Oh well ! I'll send it off and hope I don't end up in Jail. Back to the Olympics.

Why is it necessary for us to carry on if our Olympic competitors don't get a medal? I think they are all marvellous to get there at all. The dedication and sacrifices they have to make ! I'd like to see some of those armchair critics having a go. However, everybody cheered up today as our team GB got some medals.

Opening ceremony 2012

Well that was certainly different ! I didn't realise I would have to wait 64 years to see my second opening ceremony. I was lucky enough to have a seat at the opening of the Games in 1948 and it was a much more restrained affair. We were still recovering from the effects of the war. Rationing was worse than during the war. We could not import many necessities owing to the shortage of shipping and I think it was pretty brave of us to decide to hold the Games. In bad times we Brits always rise to the occasion.

I suppose if you were there last night you would have enjoyed seeing the thing as a whole. Seeing it on TV one got a rather kaleidoscopic view of what was going on. Perhaps my eyes and brain are a bit too old to follow all the various things that were happening. However, the newspapers are ecstatic so it must have been o.k. I hope the Queen had a nap before being kept up so late. I'm afraid I dozed off at one point. It was lovely to see all those happy faces as the athletes went round the arena and I am so glad my hero, Bradley Wiggins, got to ring the bell.

Olympic Torch

Yesterday the Olympic Torch came to Hove. The evening was rainy, cold and windy so , discretion being the better part of valour, I viewed it on TV from the comfort of my armchair, unlike the last time the Torch came to Britain (see my blog for 8th November 2011).

Having just written about Gustavo Dudamel I was interested to note that there was an interview with him on Radio 3 yesterday. His philosophy seems to be that the world would be a better place if we all learned to make music together. Certainly it is a better place for all those youngsters sponsored by El Sistema.

Music

To continue the musical theme  -  did you know that the washboard so beloved of skiffle players was an everyday object of my childhood?  It stood upright in a bowl of hot water.  the garments were soaped and then rubbed hard on the grooves of the washboard.  Rub too hard and you ended up with skinned knuckles. There was always a lot of music in our house.  An old uncle used to sit me on his knee and sing all the old music hall songs. I can remember all the words to this day.
My mother would sing hymns while doing her chores. She was a great one for Moody & Sankey hymns with a rousing chorus. She also liked ballads and bits of opera  -  Madame Butterfly and the intermezzo from Cavalleria Rusticana, still a favourite with me. The records on the wind-up gramophone might have been a bit scratchy but we didn't mind.  The radio had a huge battery and the glass accumulator had to be taken to the wireless shop to be refilled regularly. There was just one radio.  Occasionally it emitted peculiar squeaks and whistles.  My brother said it was Morse Code.  I thought he said Moscow and for a long time wondered at this strange Russian language.

El Sistema

I have been very much taken by the results of  El Sistema, the children's orchestral movement which started several years ago in Venezuela taking children from very poor neighbourhoods and giving them musical instruments so that they learn to play together instead of getting into bad company.  The evening the more senior members of the orchestra played at the Royal Albert Hall in London under its charismatic conductor Gustavo Dudamel was a resounding success.  This idea has spread to many other countries  -  notably to Stirling, Scotland.  Who can forget the sight of the hardy Scottish  Mums and Dads in their plastic ponchos in the pouring rain proudly watching their children join in playing with the orchestra from Venezuela?  The operatic tenor Juan Diego Florez, a friend of Dudamel, has started a similar scheme in Peru.

There have been letters in the press saying that children should be exposed more to classical music. I was reminded of this by receiving a video link of a "flash mob"  from my friend in Tokyo.  In a town square in Spain a musician started to play, quickly joined by another. Gradually, to the delight of the gathering crowd, other musicians joined them until there was a full symphony orchestra plus a large choir as they played Beethoven's "Song of Joy". A youthful conductor kept it all going.  What amused and pleased me was the reaction of the children.  This could have been their first introduction to such a thing. There were several small boys who obviously fancied themselves in the exciting role of a budding conductor!  To see the flashmob video, click here.

Miss Ellis

On Tuesday I went for my monthly scan at the Eye Hospital and sadly yesterday had a phone call to say I had to have another injection!  I shouln't grumble but it is not very nice.  However it is over now and as a consolation prize Mike bought me an enormous cream slice which I have just eaten with my afternoon cup of tea.  Such guilty indulgence!!
Going back to the lady who hoped to meet me at the Memorial ceremony  -  we did meet.  We had both watched a programme on TV called "Bomber Boys".  She wrote to the Radio Times magazine to say her uncle had been shot down in Denmark in 1943 ,as had my husband.  So I wrote her a letter and asked the Editor of the magazine to send it on which he kindly did. We have since been e mailing each other and she said she would be with her cousin at the ceremony and gave me her mobile phone number.  What an amazing thing is the mobile phone (except for some occasions when it is a minor irritant such as the middle of a concert or on a train when we are all treated to  someone else's grisly details).  We three met and life is full of coincidences  -  we all three were once called Miss Ellis !!!

Bomber Command Memorial

Hi everyone,  Have not been able to reach you for 10 days because of a technical hitch!!  Have had a very exciting week with visitors coming and going.  Weather variable with last Thursday in London scorching hot where  Amanda and I were privileged to have seats at the Unveiling of the Bomber Command Memorial in Green Park.

We arrived at Victoria Station soon after 9 a.m. It was thronged with commuters amongst whom were many gentlemen of 88 plus years wearing the large hats of the Australian, New Zealand and South African forces and there were other nationalities, also in uniform including, of course, the RAF.

It is not an easy thing to get across London in the rush hour but the London taxi cab drivers had volunteered to drive the veterans and their families to Green Park from the main line railway stations free of charge.  We joined a short queue for a taxi with a most helpful driver and arrived at the Memorial site not far from Buckingham Palace.

On the invitation it said , in view of the fact that there would be a fair amount of walking and standing about, anyone with difficulty in walking should bring a wheelchair. So I invested in a wheelchair!  At the entrance a charming young airman took charge of the wheelchair and we were taken to a marquee where refreshments were provided.  We were then shown to our seats which were about ten rows from the front.  Whilst waiting for the ceremony to begin we were soon in conversation with the people around us all of whom had a story to tell.

The music was provided by the Central Band of the RAF and the choir of  the RAF church of St. Clement Danes.  Flags were paraded.  Members of the Royal family arrived.  First the Queen's sons the Duke of York and the Earl of Wessex and his wife, also the Duke and Duchess of Gloucester, the Duke and Duchess of Kent and Prince Michael of Kent. They were followed by7 the Prince of Wales and the Duchess of Cornwall. Then followed a fanfare from the RAF Band trumpeters.  The Queen and the Duke of Edinburgh arrived.  We all sang the National Anthem.
There was a welcome address by the Chairman of the Bomber Command Association.

The Memorial Statues were unveiled by the Queen  -  seven standing airmen who have just returned from a flight.  The figures are beautifully sculptured and are about nine feet tall standing on a plinth. The whole memorial is in white Portland stone and will give poignant pleasure to all who view it.  It brings tears to my eyes just writing about it.

There followed a service of Dedication with prayers, hymns and Bible readings. There was a two minutes silence.

Then after the service there was a flypast of  five Tornados and then the familiar roar of engines as the Lancaster flew overhead dropping hundreds of poppy petals. A solemn but surprisingly happy day.

Odds & Ends

Not having been to Seaford because of the weather and one thing and another I have lost track of the days and today got prepared to have my  premises tidied up for the help, a day early.  Hope I'm not losing my marbles.
Glad to say the weather has been pleasant for a couple of days though it looks now as though it might take a turn for the worse.
Yesterday I was greeted warmly by my daughter's friend from Brazil. I had not seen her for several years. She and her husband are on a six week trip to Europe.   She said she must do it before she gets too old.  She is about 30 years younger than I am!  (I didn't tell her I went to Sri Lanka, India, Singapore and Malaya when in my 70s,  and if you travelled with my husband it was guaranteed not to be a luxury trip!)
I have heard from a lady that she has been promised two tickets for the Memorial Dedication in London and has given me her mobile phone number.  Since there will be at least 5,000 people there and I don't know what she looks like it will be interesting to see if we manage to meet.
Another of my weird expression dilemmas.  "She was at his beck and call"  I must have used this expression myself and today I wondered "why beck"?   Perhaps it comes from beckon.

Weather

We really are having a most miserable June.  The TV news is all about poor people whose homes have been flooded.  What a terrible thing!  Apparently the Gulf Stream has once again changed course and moved along the South coast bringing rain and misery in its wake.  Yesterday Amanda volunteered to drive the relatives of a friend to his wife's funeral.  They set off from Hove to go to Bournemouth.  The journey was a nightmare.  Having driven through torrential downpours, floodwater and joined long slow moving traffic queues after three hours they had only reached Chichester and realised that they would be much too late for the funeral so decided reluctantly to return home.  Five hours driving, going nowhere!

When we lived in Sandgate on the coast I often grumbled at carrying the shopping up a very steep hill but when the village was flooded, as it often was at the equinox, I was glad of the raised position of our house.  The former coastguard cottages on the seafront were often inundated.  Sometimes the waves were so high the water went over the roof and down the chimney.   I once visited one of my husband's staff who lived in one of these cottages and found everything standing in water.  The teenage son's only problem seemed to be that the TV aerial had been swept away.

Back to Normal

Well the excitement, dressing up and feasting for the family wedding and theDiamond Jubilee is over and it is back to" old clothes and porridge" as the Scots say.  Went today to the Eye Hospital for my monthly scan and today the Chiropodist comes.  How mundane!
What weather we are having.  Last night there was a gale and today the trees are still being blown madly about yet sitting having my lunch in the conservatory the sun was quite hot and it was very pleasant.  Driving back home along the seafront the sea came roaring in, wave after wave topped with white foam.  It was very exciting.
I am still enjoying listening to my audio books.  I have just requested another list of titles. So marvellous and all done by volunteers. The fiction books are usually read by actors and it is wonderful to hear them switch from one voice to another, from one accent to another. Scottish, Irish, American, German so effortlessly
One piece of marvellous news.  The Queen and other members of the Royal family are to be present at the unveiling of the Bomber Command Memorial.  Did I say before that I am going to get tickets.  There were thousands of applications so I have been lucky..

Jubilee

All is excitement for the Queen's Diamond Jubilee weekend.  Last night I watched on TV Prince Charles looking at old home movies of the Royal Family.  He was delightfully natural, chuckling at his three year old self playing with his sister, Princess Anne while his mother was taking the pictures.  I think, when the time comes, he will make a good king.  Because of the glamour of the recent Royal wedding I think there has been a little too much talk of when Prince William will be king.  but this is the age of the cult of the young so I suppose it is not surprising.  (Come and visit me in the Tower for saying this.)
The Queen was such a pretty young girl.  I saw her up close at Dulwich Picture Gallery in , I  think, in 1947 the year of her marriage (and, incidentally, of mine).   I remember thinking what a lovely complexion she had.
We must hope the fine weather continues for the weekend's festivities.

Marius Goring

I am not good at remembering names.    When I was young I used to get embarrassed because I would confuse one person with another.  Now I am old I just say I'm sorry I don't remember.  I remember walking down the church steps
 with my friend who helped me run the Sunday School.  She walked between me and another lady.  She suddenly said  "I don't remember your names.  You will have to introduce yourselves to each other".
My biggest problem is remembering actors' names.  My husband could name them all.  He could  even  always name the actor in voice overs in TV advertisements which I thought was clever.  There is one actor I particularly admired who was always popping up in films, usually as a German.  My very favourite role of his was as the German General who was captured by partisans in Crete in the film  "Ill met by Moonlight"  This is a true story of the adventures of Patrick Leigh Fermor.  I have seen it many times and each time I struggle to remember his name.  Now I think I have nailed it! Today's entry in the Dictionary of National Biography is MARIUS GORING.  Now I shan't forget it!

Family Wedding

Hello Hatters,
Sorry about the gap.  Computer problems,  eye problems and as for the weather, well!  I generally lacked inspiration.  However,  I have just spent a few days in Kent, the beautiful Garden of England.  It was exactly the right time to go.  The trees were all coming into leaf, a lovely spring green.  The trees in the narrow lanes met overhead making a pretty green tunnel to drive through and the hedgerows were white with cow parsley.
We went to my granddaughter's wedding. It was like a fairy tale.  The only fine weekend after weeks of wet, gloomy weather.  The sun shone brilliantly.
Holly looked beautiful, her bridegroom dashing, her father, my son, handsome and her attendants, three young ladies and two little boys, charming.  (I'm running out of adjectives).  The wedding took place in the spacious grounds of an 18th century Manor House deep in the Kent countryside.  When we arrived we were greeted by dreamy, romantic music played by a guitarist.  We found our seats  and the bridal party descended the steps from the terrace.  crossed the long lawn and walked along the red carpet between the guests' chairs to the gazebo where the ceremony was performed. The bride's lovely dress had a long train which was held up all the way by my two little French grandsons, brothers of the bride, who later presented the rings to the happy couple.  Amanda read two appropriate pieces of love poetry and soon the vows were said and the ceremony over.
After an interval for chat and photographs we went into the marquee for afternoon tea which was prettily laid on eight circular tables  This was later followed by music for dancing in the adjoining barn.  A stroke of genius was the arrival of the Fish & Chip van as more guests arrived for the evening celebrations.
It was so nice to meet up with so many family members and old friends.  Ten of us retired to our hotel in Hythe and it was 1 a.m. before I finally found my bed but what a lovely day!

My mother - born this day

My mother was born on the 30th April  1888 in the reign of Queen Victoria.   She lived through the reigns of Edward 7th,  George 5th,  Edward 8th,  George 6th and into the reign of Elizabeth  2nd.  She was born partially blind with cataracts.  Nowadays that would probably have been sorted out in no time but she spent a number of weeks in hospital in her childhood before her sight improved slightly.
Her grandparents were farmers in Essex but she lived with foster parents in London who owned a dairy. "Uncle" was the milkman and delivered milk three times a day.  This being in the days before fridges.  Mother used to go with him before school.
At 14 mother went into service.  She was so badly treated at her first job that she climbed out of the window in the middle of the night and ran home.  It was in service that she met my father.  He had trained as an artist and cartoonist but drifted into service.  His father was a bootmaker in London.  Whenever I see the film "Hobson's Choice" I think of him.
At one period in their early married life they worked in the household of Sir Edwin Lutyens, the Architect who designed the Cenotaph in Whitehall  amongst many other famous houses and buildings .He was married to Lady Emily  who was tthe dau.ghter of a Viceroy of India.  My mother was the nursery maid.  She did all the jobs the Nanny was too superior to do.  Lady Emily and her sister, Lady Constance Lytton,  were much involved in the Suffragette Movement and all the female staff were expected to attend meetings.  Lady Emily and her children were vegetarians but not Sir Edwin.  On one occasion he was reputed to refer to his fish course "as the piece of cod that passeth all understanding".
My parents had 4 children, two of whom were stillborn.  My brother lived to be 91 and I am still here on my way to 90.  Survival of the fittest!Despite her poor sight my mother was a great knitter and made our jerseys and even knitted her own dresses (see picture - mother, me and doll all in knitted dresses! My brother is looking severe - and possibly fed up.)
I think of her today on her birthday with great affection.

Charities

I hope the Government are going to decide to drop the proposal to cap tax relief on charitable giving.  The small charities that rely on donations will suffer.  I am thinking especially of Calibre Audio Books.     www.calibre.org.uk   This is run on a shoestring mainly by volunteers and provides a wonderful service for people like me who love books but have difficulty reading print.  The service is free and relies on donations and fund raising events. It doesn't get any grant from the Government.
If you backed the winner on the Grand National  -  remember Calibre.

Scones

I feel guilty.  Having just had my 89th birthday I read that the problem of the aging population has become acute.  I'm afraid that I no longer contribute much to the P.M.'s Big Society.  I don't know what I can do about it except to say "Do not resuscitate".

Oh well! to cheer myself up I made some cheese scones.

April Showers

My mood today is a bit like the weather - sunshine & showers.  I am pleased to be wearing a new pair of shoes which actually fit me.  I seem to have a lot of bits of paper with problems to sort out but they are going to have to wait until tomorrow.  After the fiasco with my blog I'm not going to try anything new so if Mr.  Cameron is reading this there is nothing sensational to report!
There have been some amusing letters in the telegraph about overheard conversations.  The two that made me laugh were as follows:    A woman standing behind me in the bus queue said to her small child who was eating an ice cream cornet "Don't brush your ice cream  against that lady's fur coat, you'll get hairs on it".  The second one was when I was coming out of a cinema with my father-in-law after a rather dreadful film and we heard a man say "What a waste of money.  I reckon they should have paid us to go in and see it".

Hiatus

Sorry my dear readers if you have been looking  for pearls of wisdom.  Google encouraged me to click on something new and I completely lost my head.  I couldn't find my way back to my blog, try as I may..  I thought poor old Jay May  is past it.   However the Cavalry arrived(just as I was going to throw the whole caboosh in the bin) in the shape of Amanda  and she put me back on track. Google has obviously never heard the saying "If it aint broke, don't fix it".  I was doing very nicely as things were.  Why do so-called improvements end up making life more complicated?  Here ends today's rant!  See you tomorrow, I hope.

Getting There

I read today that your best chance of living to be 100 (presuming that would be desirable) could be having parents or grandparents who lived to be centenarians. This is regardless of whether you give up drink, fags or cheeseburgers. I'm doing my best. Both my grandmother and my mother lived to be 95. (So, incidentally, did my mother-in-law). They were not in very good physical shape for the last year or so but their minds were very alert. So I shall persevere with the Telegraph crossword.
If I sound a bit sozzled in future it is because I may try out a new remedy for my painful arthritic joints. Raisins steeped in gin! Skol!

Carelink

I have just been issued with a Carelink Alarm Pendant. This emergency help system is run by the Brighton & Hove Council to enable people who are elderly or disabled to live independently. It means that when my family are away and I am in the house alone I can call for assistance if I have a fall or am taken ill at any time of the day or night. Kind neighbours and friends have agreed to have keys and the council staff will notify the keyholders so that someone can come to the house. If needed the staff will arrange for a doctor or an ambulance or the Police to come. There is a fee. Well worth it for peace of mind, but I hope I never have to use it.

www.brighton-hove.gov.uk/carelinkplus

Mothering Sunday

A lovely sunny spring morning. So nice to be remembered with phone calls, chocolates, beautiful flowers and some very up-market talcum powder from my friend in Tokyo. Such a lot of nice things to be thankful for.
I am deep in a Dick Francis thriller. Almost sorry when I get to the end it is so exciting. I am having a lazy day.
Just going to make an omelette verte for my supper and then perhaps watch one of my opera DVDs. As my daughter said what a decadent life I lead.

Mothering Sunday

Oxford DNB

Today's on line entry for the Oxford Dictionary of National Biography, which I look at most days, is extremely topical.
Arabella Hunt, a musician, married a young man named James Howard in 1680. It turned out that this young man was, in fact, a woman. The marriage was annulled on the grounds that two woman could not contract a valid marriage with each other. Both partners were declared free to marry, so long as they married men.

Outings

I lead a giddy existence these days. Yesterday morning I went to the hairdresser at the bottom of our road. That end of the road has been closed for a time as I'm told they are going to put in a pedestrian crossing. Because of this the traffic was whizzing in all directions. I am not able to see so well these days so I asked a nice young man to tell me when it was safe to cross. He saw me safely across the road. I find young people very patient and willing to help. Then in the afternoon Mike took me on my usual trip to the hospital for a scan. I now wait to see if the consultant thinks I need another injection.
Today Mike and I went to Seaford for coffee with my friends. We had an enjoyable morning. Elizabeth has been emptying her loft and we came home with a lovely little chair, just right for Lloyd when he comes. We already have one small chair so now the two little boys can have one each.
I love words. I was describing a character in a novel and said "She was very deedy". This was a favourite word of my mother's and meant she was very earnest, very serious said in a slightly perjorative way. Does anybody still say it?

Outings

A Beautiful Day

The weather today has been bright and springlike. I went shopping this morning. It becomes more of an effort these days to climb the slight rise as I make my way homewards but the sense of achievement is worth it.
It has certainly been a different day from the 8th of March 1947. We were married 65 years ago The snow lay on the ground and it was so-oo cold. Everyone else was wrapped up warm in their winter clothes while Don and I nearly froze to death.
A buff envelope arrived today from the Inland Revenue. That is one of the many occasions when I miss Don. As I was married to a Tax Inspector I was told for years that I didn't need to worry my pretty little head with such things. Latterly I did receive some instruction. How I wish I had paid more attention! However, the letter was just to tell me my new tax code. I hope it is right.

Weddings

Talking of weddimgs I have been to more than a dozen - all different. Mostly Protestant services but two of my friends were Roman Catholics which meant a very long chuch service including Mass. My mother worked for a family of Polish Jews. There the bride had to sit all day in her finery receiving guests until the evening when the groom and his friends arrived to take her to the synagogue. In 1981 in Sri Lanka our hotel was full of wedding guests. The magnificence of the groom's outfit and headdress far outshone that of the bride!

One memorable wedding Don and I went to was in December 1983. Our friend's daughter was marrying her Jewish fiance in a London synagogue on a Sunday. We decided to spend the weekend at the Grosvenor Hotel next to Victoria Station. On the Saturday afternoon we had booked seats at a Carol Concert at the Royal Albert Hall, to be led by Rolf Harris. We got a crowded bus to Kensington. At Harrods many Christmas shoppers left the bus. We debated doing so but decided to stay on the bus and go straight to our destination. A minute or so after leaving the Harrods bus stop there was a loud"Crump" and plumes of smoke rose from where we had just been. Don said "That's a bomb". The IRA were still active. A car bomb had been left outside Harrods and six people were killed and dozens injured. We were shocked. We went on to the Royal Albert Hall in a subdued mood. We found our seats and we were somewhat worried when a lady next to me left her bag on her seat and disappeared. We had been warned about unattended bags. We were relieved when she came back having been to buy a programme! The Concert proceeded but during the whole time we could hear the wailing of ambulance sirens. When we tried to get back to the hotel the tube and buses were disrupted and we had to walk most of the way. We arrived at Victoria to find the staion roped off as there was another bomb scare. We did not sleep easy in our beds that night.
The next day we joined our friends at the synagogue. All the men had to wear a yarmulke, a Jewish skull cap, including the bride's father and Don, both non-Jews. The cantor was a lady. The couple stood under a canopy to make their vows. This wedding was certainly one to remember.

Sadie Hawkins Day

I have just been reminded that 29th February in America is "Sadie Hawkins Day". Sadie was on the shelf so her father challenged all the local unmarried men to a race and after giving them a start Sadie would run after them and whoever she caught would be her husband. During the war my friend, Marion, was despairingly between boyfriends so she said she was going to declare a "Marion White Day". It must have worked because I went to her wedding!

Colour Blind

Amongst the many surprises life seems to have in store for me is the discovery that I am colour blind. I cannot distinguish between blue and green or navy and black. I have several pairs of trousers, some navy and some black. I have worked out a system for sorting them. After looking at the labels through a magnifying glass I have put a small safety pin in the label of the navy ones so that's that sorted. I have been wearing a warm cardigan for some time thinking it was green. I am now told, on good authoity (my daughter) that it is blue.
A favourite card game in the family is UNO where you have to match the colours. Unfortunately when I play there are howls of protest from the grandchildren "No, no Grandma, that's blue" or "No, no Grandma, that's green". I wonder what I look like in my odd colours. Perhaps I should be like the poet and say " When I am an old woman I shall wear purple With a red hat which doesn't go. And I shall spend my pension on brandy". No, perhaps not. Better retain some decorum.

Fly on the Wall

I have never been a fan of Fly on the Wall television. How can one be natural with cameras following one about? There was a programme on TV about a family who were expected to live as in wartime Britain. It was doomed to fail because they lived differently from their peacetime neighbours. In the 1940s we were all in the same boat. We were all affected by rationing, the blackout, bombing, the worry about and separation from our loved ones, when was it all going to end, but there was a spirit of community that comes from shared anxieties and fears and shared pleasures, too, when something nice happened.
I was remembering how kind people in the USA and Australia would send food parcels to friends and relatives during rationing. The arrival of a parcel was so exciting. The contents would be shared with friends and neighbours - things we hadn't seen for ages like dried fruit and tinned ham and tinned peaches. Nobody starved but our diet was very monotous. You get something of the atmosphere if you read "84, Charing Cross Road" where the American writer is appalled to hear of our food shortages even after the war ended (rationing went on until about 1954) that she sent food parcels to the staff of a bookshop in London.
Of course, we weren't all saints. There were "wide boys" selling stockings off ration from a suitcase in Oxford Street keeping one step ahead of the police. (You might find when you unwrapped your illicit stockings that they weren't a pair, being different in size or colour) There was also the "Black market" and things sold under the counter. But the vast majority of the population were honest and law abiding and, what's more generous and kind-hearted as I think we are today. It is the horrid ones who make the headlines in the papers. If it were otherwise it wouldn't be news.

Endearments

Some time ago there was a move afoot to stop shop assistants, taxi drivers, bus drivers etc. from calling ladies "love or dear". I have been called - lass, miss, missy, missus, mum, Ma and Gran, as well as love, dear and pet. I don't think I've ever taken umbrage. My favourite is Grandma which has a certain dignity and is used not only by my grandchildren but, very sweetly, by their friends. My own mother was known to all and sundry as Nanny. which also cleared up the dilemma of what you should call your mother-in-law. However one friend of hers, Mrs. Pain, the dentist's wife ( not perhaps the right name for a dentist) always called her Buttercup. I think she must have been a fan of Gilbert & Sullivan as in HMS Pinafore Buttercup is referred to as "a plump and pleasing person" which Nanny was.
In Sandgate a regular stop on the way home by the Cubs from a Scout meeting would be the Fish & Chip shop. The lady behind the counter was from Cornwall and would greet the little boys with "And what do you want, me - andsome?" And what about this? My daughter was in Durham recently and the taxi driver called her "Flower".

Friends

So far, although it has been very cold, we have no snow in Hove. Yesterday Mike and I went to Seaford and on the roadside verges in Brighton there lingered traces of snow. The Downs were all white and looked beautiful but I can do without it.
We spent a merry morning at June's house. All present except for Josie who is recovering from an op. We missed her cheery presence. Most of my friends from former years have passed on, most of them being older than me. Two , in their nineties ,died this Christmas. I value my Seaford friends. We first got together to do patchwork about 14 years ago. When I left Canterbury I thought that was the end of my patchwork days but by a great stroke of good fortune my new next door neightbour ran a patchwork class and invited me to join. My circle of friends grew and we have been supporting each other through all the trials and tribulations that beset us as well as putting the world to rights every Tuesday.
Shakespeare was a wily old bird. Polonius says "Those friends thou hast,...grapple them to thy soul with hoops of steel"
Another trip to the hospital today for another painful injection but the pain soon wears off so mustn't grumble, Mike escorting me again. I am seeing almost more of Mike than does Amanda!

"Th"

I read recently that small children should be taught the sound "th" as they find it most difficult. This difficulty extends to many foreigners (see below) but he was trying hard.


http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=endscreen&v=A2AXlIX1s-M&NR=1

Love is Infinite

When we arrive upon this earth
From the moment of our birth
Until our dying breath
God gives us love to give to others,
To our fathers and our mothers,
To children, spouses, friends and lovers
To last until our death.

We're born not with a bank of love
That everyone we love must share.
No, love expands to meet each need.
And where it lands it sows a seed.
We cannot know where love will lead
But all that love from God above
Is there, with some to spare.

Snoods,Jumpers & Socks.

I have been having a discussion with my Tokyo friend who is busy knitting neck warmers now apparently called "snoods". We agreed that snoods aren't what they used to be. I wore a snood under my tin hat in 1942 to keep my hair tidy. My boss, a lovely little exIndian Army Colonel with a splendid moustache, once asked me why ladies were wearing string bags on their heads. I saw his point. My granddaughter gave me a snood (modern style) for Christmas. It can be worn as a scarf, a hat or a Balaclava. Very useful if you are a terrorist! My friend and I also discussed knitting jumpers for chickens. Yes, I did say chickens! Apparently some poor battery hens lose all their feathers because of the conditions they are kept in. Someone has set up a shelter for them and sent out an appeal for people to knit jumpers for the chickens as the poor things feel the cold. Just as we two were getting all enthusiastic about our next knitting project we read that the appeal has been so successful that they don't need any more jumpers at present.
To get on to my 3rd subject - Socks. There have been letters in the Telegraph about how many ties men possess. I knew a young man who had 32 pairs of dark red socks. Once a month he took them to the launderette so that every day he had clean socks and he didn't have to worry about finding a matching pair.
Having sent a letter to the paper today about this I look at my emails . I follow an American lady's blog. Today she has written a piece about her husband's sock drawer. How's that for a coincidence ? See blog below.

http://www.70-something.com/

Beryl Cook

I have been reading (on my computer) about Beryl Cook, the artist. I like her fat ladies just as I like saucy seaside post cards. Does this show a vulgar mind? The Establishment disapproved of her but I like the way she shows the sunny side of life. Too many modern artists only show the drab side.
This is one of those occasions when I want to ask someone a question and they are no longer there. I read that her father-in-law was a tax officer in Reading Tax Office before the war, as was my husband Don They probably worked together. Another of my tenuous brushes with fame!

The Young Ones

Move over, Bill Gates! Better keep an eye on France. They should give an eight year old boy with every computer you buy. Or better still - Buy One and get two of these free!

The Nursery Rhyme Book

Yesterday I pinched my finger in my desk drawer and it jolly well hurt! This tweaked a memory.
In 1955, when my son was two, we bought a book called "The Oxford Nursery Rhyme Book" by Iona and Peter Opie, a couple who were folklorists and spent years collecting children's games, rhymes and riddles and put them into this book. I am looking at it now and all the children I have shown it to love it, including my two smallest grandchildren. Some of the games for small children are familiar ones you play on your hands.
We taught our small son the names of his fingers. Tom Thumbkin, Willie Wilkin, Long Daniel, Betty Bodkin and Little Dick. He came in from the garden one day crying loudly. "What's wrong?" I asked. " I've hurt my finger". he wailed. I took him on my lap. "Show me" I said "and I will kiss it better. Which one is it?" He held up his hand. "Little Dick" he sobbed.

A Reference

Searching through some old diaries for the name of a hotel in India I finally found what I was looking for. My memory was all wrong. Don used to say that the palest ink was more reliable than the longest memory and so it proved. However, my search did reveal some thing I had forgotten. This was my Headmistress's reference on my leaving school aged 16.

"Jessie Ellis is a girl of very good intelligence, reliable character and industrious habits. She is pleasant in manner and speech, willing and obedient. She has had some commercial training and should prove a very efficient employee."

On reading this I can't help feeling she was gilding the lily a bit. I did get a job in the Post Office as a clerk after passing the Civil Service exam. This was a few months before WW2 broke out when my life changed completely.

New Year's Honours

I often wonder at the people who turn up in the New Year's Honours list. This year I was very pleased to see that the delightful Antonio Pappano. Director of music at Covent Garden Opera House, had been knighted. He richly deserves it for the pleasure he has given to so many people. He is so talented and so obviously enjoys what he is doing. I give you a little taste.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=endscreen&NR=1&v=PBlHLIsNsCI

Weather

The days are lengthening and the weather continues mild. Today has seen high winds and torrential rain butit is still not cold. I have just been reading about Charles Babbage the computer pioneer who died in 1871. He advocated the decimalisation of currency and predicted the exhaustion of coal. He said if posterity failed to find a substitute for coal it deserved to be frostbitten! What would he make of our present search for renewable energy sources?