Bridges and houses , hedges and ditches

Great Railway Journeys I have done .

Have to say that the journey from Congleton in Cheshire to Seamer ( Scarborough) is a near perfect rail journey. I had listened to advice and made sure I was on the right hand side of the carriage so as to take in the recommended sights , which did not disappoint. My criteria for a Great Railway Journey were all fulfilled.

• A seat alone
• Good conversation to overhear
• Clean lavatory
• An unknown crop to identify
• Clean window
• A Risk
• Wildlife to spot
• Baby lambs in field to spot
• At least one place of passing needing to be looked up in Pevsner
• A yearning to bring an OS map next time.

This journey had a tantalizing beginning, and here I give Congleton Station the equivalent of a Richard and Judy Bookclub award, which I will call an Adlesdrop award. For in the tiny Booking Hall was a shelf of Books to borrow , worthy of Boots Lending Library in the 1950's.

WHAT A GOOD IDEA!
I had of course brought one of my Arthur Upfields to read so was replete so to speak.
And so to scenery. No one prepares one for Cheshire to be so picturesque from the train. The Cloud first, and then streams ,and field systems, pales and lambs and water meadows all the way to Bramhall . Here the back gardens of the upwardly mobile beckoned but I have seen it all before in Surrey so it held no thrall for me .
I mention here that the sides of the track between Congleton and Manchester were the cleanest and most rubbish free I have ever seen.
Now Stockport , theres a Business park of a place from the train. Not what I imagined , having only known about a past Bishop , Gordon Strutt from my Aunty Mary, so fondly thought it would be full of gleaming spires, instead - pyramidal multiplexes and ugly walls and chimneys. Made mental note to get off the train here another time and look at the Hat Museum, remembering that 'Aunt 'Ada Watson was a Court Milliner from Cheshire in the Edwardian era.
Levenshume was a ME sort of a place. I could just tell from the names of the businesses and the sort of washing on lines.
Manchester Piccadilly takes some working out. Now I am home I have worked it out. Trains that terminate and trains that go through determine , of course, the platform arrangements and so now I have it . I think. The loos are 30p and the change machine doesnt work . Thank God the Transpennine had clean ones and were easy to use.
The journey across or should I say under the Pennines was magic.
Canals and Mills along the Colne Valley would have looked so different a hundred years ago. I loved it now, without the smoke and the grime.
One businessman was overheard to recount to another a Question on some TV Quiz programme where the contestant did not know that Bread Sauce was an accompaniment to Turkey. 'Well ,I did not know that' said his travelmate, and I with him was silently amazed. I thought everyone knew that. Apparantly , I am naive.
So on past the familiar, Leeds, York, Malton , Seamer -I have travelled these rails a score of times since returning North from Surrey in 1992. The stretch from York to Malton along the Derwent Valley deserves a prize of its own . The best Field Systems I have ever seen are on the North side of the river, and then the glimpse of Kirkham Priory through the trees, as the river upstream to Malton tempts speculation always as to the height of the water. Here my journey took a new twist. Two young ladies from across the pond had discussed their complexions ,crowlines and wrinkles all the way from York. As they decanted to thrill a small agricultural town with their conversation , the carriage discussed the triviality of their very public musings.
On to the hedges and ditches of the Carrs, that great Lake Pickering emptying into the North Sea at Filey, its rich ,alluvial soil almost working before ones eyes to support rows of Potatoes , Wheat, Barley and oilseed Rape. No children clambering and scrambling, no runaway carts , just GLIMPSES GONE FOREVER.

Michelin Starred it never was

I feel I actually deserve to be recognized for my ingenuity and skill when feeding the under fives. They can be so contrary. Yesterday they ate pasta with pesto , but today they won't. I am not going to rant about the modern Scarborough child v the Hull fifties child.
We did not have the choice of food . Our mothers , unless they came from a different culture from ours served 'plain food'.
This was usually a roast dinner on a Sunday, sliced joint with gravy re-heated on a Monday, and Minced on Tuesday. By Wednesday it might be some braised meat, usually leg of beef and beasts kidney which had stewed slowly for hours. On Thursday a Cauliflower Cheese, would always be followed on Friday by fish. The butcher from Sutton Village (Mr Hickey) called twice a week with his van. The fishmonger from the village (Mr Hilyard) called on Fridays. Joints were usually big. All mince and all roasts , pork or lamb beef were served with Yorkshire pudding cooked as I do now in one large tin. Chicken was for special occasions, and came from Mr Baston who kept a free range flock in the field behind our house. When we wanted eggs , my mother would hang a basket on our shed next to the fence, and the eggs would be there by the evening.
My school friend who lived in Eastmount Avenue had a mother who could make a raised Pork pie. One always hoped to be invited for a meal, and frequently was. The food in this house was different, but it was still plain and of traditional English cuisine. Up the road in Saltshouse Road we had a neighbour who returned from trips on his Trawler and brought us gifts of huge parcels of Halibut and Skate, Haddock and Cod . He later started a frozen Fish Business called Herons, which is still going today , though he and his family emigrated to Canada many years ago. Fish was grilled or poached and served with a white sauce, or fried in a shallow pan of lard.We had no fridge until 1960, so meat was never stored. Most vegetables were home grown. Mr Wiles came up from the village to help with the garden. His dog Judy used to run along side his bike. He had fought in the Boer War. I used to watch him sowing vegetable seeds from a little dispenser . No carrots-they never did well in the clay Riseholm soil. Rows of potatoes. sprouts and beetroot fed us.
"Just go and pick some Kale for lunch will you Margaret?" Remember sisters that awful Kale! We didn't have anything but tinned peas, except in season from the garden, until Erin brought out a dried sort that you added boiling water to !
We always has gravy made from meat juices from the pan, or Bisto with Mr Hickey's sausages.
Our food never varied as it does today until the advent of the supermarket, which promptly killed the trade of our village shop 'Myers'. My mother just loved a trip to Frank Dees supermarket on the Holderness Road in Hull in the 1960's. We began to have different types of cheese and sausages, biscuits and bread, and cakes (Bought Rubbish they were affectionately called by my father).
Here in our small town just south of Scarborough we are still able to buy from small local shops and I do . I never buy vegetables or meat from the Supermarket (which was part of the Frank Dee Chain in the 1970s). I never buy fish from Herons. but from the fishmonger . I am doing my best to cut down airmiles. The spinach in our small garden is feeding us well. With all the option excess we enjoy however I still cannot please the palettes of the under fives. They have never before in history had so much delicious food to choose from. They do garlic, cous -cous, mangoes, chorizo, cumin coriander and quinoa, tropical this and that and malt loaf.
I cooked too many vegetables yesterday to accompany the meatballs and pasta shells. Today they were pureed into chopped tomatoes with 5 cloves of garlic and made in to a sauce for the spinach and rice pie. Right now on the beach are 2 small boys reeking of garlic, and even then one didn't like the pie, just the broccoli and sauce.
What has changed? Were we fussy ? Were our parents stricter? Or have we just forgotten that we put food we didn't like surreptitiously under the table for our spaniel.

Felix Mendelssohn -his part in our life

I have just listened to the Service on Radio 4 as I do every Sunday Morning before going to do girly music in St Oswalds.

I am a big fan of the blog of Bishop Baines who coined the words and set the hare running again (I saw a huge hare on the Wolds on Thursday, not 10 m from where I stood) . Simon Rudiger in the Filey Parish blog has done his usual 'get you think' provocative blog (sans capital letters), this time commenting about that article in the magazine 'Sorted' (Loaded Correctly) which suggests that men are staying away from church because the music is not macho enough.This may run and run , I dont care. My very own macho man loves flowers, a former LSO chorus member has a really eclectic taste in music, church or otherwise. Not like his narrow minded spouse.

I am listening to Elijah on BBC iplayer as I write, recorded last Friday.
"If with all your heart you surely seek me ,ye shall ever surely find me" is playing now.
When I am down, I always listen to this Oratorio, it hits all my highs and lows. The composer has managed to bring the Bible text alive for me. I am so glad that such a great Man of God as Elijah was depressed and anxious, successful at times and then totally lost enough to run away emotionally. Mendelssohn touches my soul with his understanding of the text in music, romantic and utterly serious.
Praise for this short lived genius has been mutated in to the genes of Bridteacher. Historically I come from a musical family. My great great uncle was an original Savoyard Charles Kenningham,, his brother Alfred a vicar choral at St Pauls, my own great ,great Grandfather Edmund Kenningham died after singing 'The heavens are telling" . Spouse always calls this 'The tenors are yelling."
My own Classical musical Education began with a trip to the City Hall Hull with my school Greatfield High School (Newton Hall) in about 1961 to hear my first orchestra .We were accompanied by the music teacher Miss Nottingham. This was the real thing and I knew it was. In the evening, this small group of us , in special cheap seats for the schools of Hull sat and took it all in, not even sure whether we liked it , but knowing it was grown up , and trying to find something in it to like. I was asked after which music I had liked best,out of the Short Overture, the long Symphony and the other shortish piece. I had no hesitation" 'Fingals Cave' "I said. It had entranced me . I have recalled this lollipop moment many times, and when my Father went to Sidney Scarborough's and bought me an EP of Mendelssohn Overtures, Fingals Cave on one side and Ruy Blas I played them so often I had to have more ,so joined the Music Library as soon I was old enough. I came home with Chopin one week, Liszt the next , worked my way through all the Classics, always dreading that moment back in the Library when the librarian checked all the LPs for scratches. Mendelssohn started me on my lifelove of music. I am open to anything from Sparklehorse to Anthony and the Johnsons, from Bach to more Bach via Mozart and Wagner. Oddly enough I don't like G and S despite my illustrious forbears. I have just found my Great-Grandmother Kenningham's copy of Mendelssohn's 'Song without words'. She was a gifted pianist and well known in musical circles in Hull in the 1880s and 90s. Her daughter , my grandmother Gertrude Alice Bruce was once visited by a famous musicologist of the day Dr Orlando Mansfield. The family anecdote goes that my grandfather was so shy that he didn't speak a word during the whole social call, and my grandmother never let him forget how he had embarrassed her.The fly leaf of the Folio Book is inscribed thus;
Listening to the service on Radio 4,this morning I am sure I heard the commentator say that Mendelssohn had been almost worshipped in his day. This obviously carried on for many years after too, for the Folio Book to have been used like a family Bible for the recording of ownership. So I am enjoying this Mendelssohn weekend on the BBC. Thank you very much. I am listening to 'Thanks be to God now'. I think it could be Macho Music, Elijah seemed a Macho Man,with the sensitive side that 'Girly's ' share. Does it really matter? Nick Baines doesn't think so and that's good enough for me!

Echium again

Am delighted to announce that spouse has allowed me to have yet more of the south facing border to accommodate my growing family of the Genus Echium.
I am so pleased with the buds on the sp. lusitanicum spp polycaulon . It is at the front of the border , (see picture)where I nurtured it all winter, and really should be further back, but will give it a year. The 2 E.russicums are at the back , but higher up the slope, hope they will flower too, they are in bud. I have kept 1 E. russicum in its pot, just incase I have to move it. The orange peel is to deter cats from using the facilities in this garden. It seems to be working. Even Kiaoracat is being more considerate at the moment.

Have 10 E. Fastuosums dotted around the garden, but they are poor specimans and have no buds . This is so exciting. I sound like a real anorak. Don't care .

Magpie Eye

Just been to see the eponymous exhibition at Scarborough Art Gallery . Finishes next Monday May4th. The family have already seen it, and spouse several times. We have had the poster up in the kitchen since before it opened. Not exactly an exhibition, but more a collection of quirky objects trouve to compliment the work in the neighbouring room ,of Edward Bawden and Eric Ravilious.

I felt so at home in Magpie Eye. We have a house with small collections loitering around corners and sitting on shelves. We love our mirrors crafted by Anna Lambert. It was great to see the Cockerel Soup Tureen with the clever Tail Feather ladle , sitting proudly next to a vase of full blown tulips. I have been going to galleries and exhibitions since I was a child taken to Ferens Art Gallery (Hull) by my aunt. She, was a watercolourist and enthusiast for colour. She had an eclectic taste . She , housebound for many years would talk about her visit to MoMA in 1961, her delight at seeing Guernica, her joy in the colour of roses, her taste for the Pre-Raphaelites for the stories behind the paintings. She loved like Mark Hearld to see design and colour in everyday objects. She would have absolutely adored Magpie Eye. A few years ago we discovered the work of Angie Lewin, and bought as many greetings cards and notelets as we could in the shop in the Geffrye museum. Now 3 years later she has found many more outlets for her work, even the here in the wilds of the north. It was no surprise really then to realise that the echo of something already in the soul was in the Flyer for Magpie Eye , as Mark Hearld exhibits in the same Gallery.Where is my rambling going ?
This morning we opened a new box of Organic Oats. We only bought them because we liked the design of the box. Could have been 'School of Hearld or Lewin'. No but we like you too Clare Curtis.

AGMs All Gods militia

I have been to every single AGM of my anglican church since becoming a voting member. So that adds up to 41 meetings as for 1 year I had to belong to a fellowship (House Church).This was when my vicar said I was a heretic after getting Baptised as an adult by Total Immersion in 1985. I am under authority so treated the family to a year of guitars, prophecies and comfy seats. Back in the muddled folds of the Cof E since 1986, at home, happy with 'A word from Wormingford'once again , and now needing to read that bible of the interpretation of Holy Writ, the ABC for the PCC.
Last nights meeting for the Parish of Filey was worth the wait of 41 and 1 off years .
It will have fulfilled every legal requirement of Canon Law, but something more was going on last night. Besides the obvious presence of the Holy Spirit, there was a sense of order, calm and fellowship. The Lord was in control.
Max -your humorous diatribe was excellent. It would make a pamphlet as required reading for churches in the land. What you said, couched in such Cof E speak was that we need to get back to Bible teaching. You did that so subtley by your mention of wise and foolish virgins. I have nt heard that parable spoken of for years!
Mary -you have the gentleness of the strong, and its word is Meekness, it is what Jesus had.
Here is a cartoon for you all.

Thank you sister

The infinite wonder

http://twurl.nl/6k26xr Thanks to Bosco Peters for the tweet about this.It takes a while to load and you will see why!

Facebook Passion On Good Friday

Who ever thought this up as an April fool must have been reading that bit about 'For the wisdom of this world is foolishness in God's sight.. What a great idea. I actually followed it through our 3 hour Vigil today. Well done whoever you are, and thanks Clare Rishbeth for sending me the link to Peter Oulds blog.

Twitter and Pruning

I am no stranger to Pruning. I remember my Grandfather Benjamin John Elder Bruce showing me how to prune roses in 1959. I was really honoured that this man of so few words would take the trouble to explain something so grown up to this 12 year old girl. I was affirmed. I didnt really even understand what pruning was for, or why he only did the roses. He died soon after, they were the last roses he would prune. The roses were there for many years after that. I remember their lovely names, Josephine Bruce, our family rose, Peace, Fragrant Cloud, Golden Showers.
Our daughter the Landscape architect is a very hard pruner. She arrives in our walled garden and tells her father to' cut that right down', or she will do it. Her father has cut the Zepherine Drouhin right down. I hope it will cover the arbour again.
I see a new occupation coming in to the Twittersphere. People are having to prune the people they follow. Bishop Alan and Rev Bosco Peters have done their lists. I value both of their input to the Twittershere and Blogsphere, but am now having to rethink where I think the whole pruning thing will lead. Will someone invent a Tweetdeck that will do an automatic prune. You could put in a sort of search word like 'football' or 'synod' and all the' friends' who use those tags more than once a day could be pruned. Or perhaps those who like me have only 28 followers could do a reverse prune , or growth spurt thing and anyone who uses the words 'Echium' or 'Dark night of the soul' would have to follow me.
Of course, Jesus had only 12 serious followers at first, apparantly. I bet Jesus Barabbas had thousands.

Palm Sunday

People must have thrown coats and branches down in front of the colt because the road down from the Mount of Olives is so steep.The colt could have stumbled otherwise.

Little Dears

They are coming this afternoon for a few days. Their other Grandma died on Sunday, and the funeral is in Lancashire tomorrow. Spouse and I are probably going to be asked lots of questions. We both realise that what we say about, and the way we behave around the death could affect the boys for the rest of their lives. They are very bright , 2 and 4 year olds. The eldest has already cottoned on to the fact the Grace is said before meals in this house, and is learning it. Other grandparents were totally against religion. Other grandfather binned any card with a text before he read it , and all expressions of a positive future were shot down in flames before the utterence had time to settle on the air. I like it when people are really honest, they are not sitting on a maybe fence, but firmly on the side that would have said Hell in Victorian times.
So , what are we going to say to the boys.
We will wait and see and hope to remember to pray at the time. I know God acts without dimension in time, how else could he have sent the sun to go back . I am asking him ahead of time to give us right words, and back in time that wrong words will be forgotten.

Malton

Love it!

Kiaora-just realised what our house name means

Traditional Maori Blessing

Kia hora te manno
Kia whakapapa paumamu te moana
Kia tere te Karohirohi

*

May the calm be widespread
May the sea glisten like the greenstone
And may the glimmer of summer dance across your pathways…

To Twitter or not to Twitter

Now that I have managed to download my Tweetdeck I can see why this Twitter business is so interesting. By asking the Tweetdeck to siphon off Tweets from Twitterers who have never been my friend, I have an unlimited resource for my Lent Blogging (Filey Parish :Blogging for Lent). All I have to do is ask the app to sort those mentioning a key word, in this case Lent. They come streaming in .I can look at the profiles of the Twitterers and decide to follow them or not. In this way I have been amazed at the hundreds of strangers twittering on about What they are giving up for Lent, Why Lent is a great Idea, Why lent is a C...p idea, and on and on and on..
Now I can understand all the newspaper articles, online blogs, TV conversations and radio quips.
No I am not going to follow Steven Fry or Barack Obama. I am sifting and sorting . I like the updates everyday from Kew Gardens , from Garden Adventure, from my twittering Facebook friends, from Ruth (Ruthie she calls herself-who would have thought it)Gledhill the Times Religious Affairs Correspondent, and from unknown scribes who inspire me with their joie de vivre over the twittersphere. I am not trying like Bishop Alan to see if I can make 500 followers (he has 821 now ).My son has 526 friends on Facebook, I dare not think what will happen when he discovers Twitter. He sure couldn't manage without a Tweetdeck.

Giving up Facebook for Lent

Some people are so addicted to Facebook and Twitter they have given them up for Lent.

Scheduled

I wish I had tried this earlier.

What I will be giving up for Lent

It wont be Facebook or Twitter.

Please do not die..............

Please just keep going, the sun came out strongly yesterday, you loved it, felt it on your tender heart. Please do not get mould, please sit tight.We know you are trying, dont let those foreign cousins of yours from Madeira be too proud, you are our little Russian. We are waiting for you..please do not die..........

Shepherds Warning

'Red sky at night' etc is true most of the time. This new dawn does not bode well. Seen at seven thirty this morning, getting lighter every day the gorgeous red sky promised cold and wet, snow even. Yes! the cold is here, yes! the snow is on its way but as to the Shepherds warning, I agree the signs are there.
Several papers this morning are foretelling that the current economic scene will get worse, although Richard Branson puts it this way 'Shares have gone rock bottom and will go even lower'. He must know something about the structure of the earth that I dont. 'Below rock bottom' would take cataclysmic seismic activity of the earthquake kind, or volcano kind or techtonic plates colliding kind.
So , I am waiting for snow, and yes I am waiting for the media to cash in on the expected frugality drive. The Telegraph has already begun with a booklet on how to kill and draw your own Turkey, and what to make out of the entrails. Others will follow. Marguerite Pattern will have another late flowering in her career telling us how to boil up chicken bones and make soup, or horror of horrors lead us back to Spam.
I have decided be very positive about the economic downturn-how even the words have potential. Down turns bring a reassessment of values and priorities, of government spending on essential services, on a care and share approach . There will always be those ready to make money in 'new ways quickly' in a spiv sort of a way. There will also be a look to the beauty in free things like red dawns.

Pick yourself up

Pick yourself up,dust yourself down,and start all over again.........
Well I think those were the defining words. I'll wait and see what the forth estate says tomorrow. Why on earth did only the Queen of Soul have the sense to wear a hat. She at least gave the whole proceedings some sparkly class. Mrs Obama nearly made it with her glitter .I did enjoy it though. I believed the prayers, and the speech. The poem by Elizabeth Alexander was the highlight of the whole show for me. I am waiting for a transcript of it. Meanwhile here is a picture from the telly....

Unwanted guests

Daughter near Brighton has just spent the weekend using this wonderful tool. I have asked her to buy me one as come the first day of the Summer Holidays now only 6months away, I can be sure that I will probably need one, when daughter in Scarborough rings up in tears asking for help of the combing kind, and we will have daily visits, and many happy(!) hours sitting outside the back door with kitchen roll and bowls of water.

Twittering

I have finally got the measure of Twittering. I have been sorting it out,investigating , appraising and evaluating. Put another way, I have read, marked, learned and inwardly digested. Twittering is a phantom message service. Firstly it is an addictive time waster. Perfectly reasonable and educated people are sending tweets about their most banal and everyday thoughts and all their friends are reading them and thinking they must do the same. Secondly a huge market of Twitterific and the like products are now subtly available after the first sprat has reeled them in. I too am part of the crowd, and just incase I miss out on any hidden bonuses I too am capable of sending banal and boring thoughts to the great ISP in the sky. Thirdly this is not a new phenomenom. It all started or was documented for the first time in 1837.

Only difference is that in 1837 ,in the Emperors New Clothes ,the tweets were word of mouth only, because the microchip had not been invented.

Sitemeter

I just love stats.The sitemeter on the www.fileyparish.org.uk gives me as much pleasure as the actual blogging. I have slowly turned into a nerd, maybe even an anorak. I wonder if on Mastermind you may answer questions on 'Blogsite stats' or ' URLs I know and love', or 'Locations ' or 'Out clicks'. I like them all. It is no good looking at the blog oneself, 50 times in one day, as Pete and Brian and Simon will suss that it no time. If I let 50 friends know the URL and hope they look at the site, I might get 10 of them looking at it. If I encourage all my 78 Facebook friends to look at the site,this might happen;

• all my children will look at the site,
  
• former colleagues who are winding down at the end of a tiring school day might look at the site
• old friends from Dorking are leagues ahead in the cyber stakes and won't look as they are all twittering but not following me
• my sister has already looked but will have lost the URL and the inclination
• my nephews and nieces are all partying or on holiday in cold places so have no time
  
• vicars and bishops and youth workers are all doing their own superb blogs so might look to see if I am following their blogs
• Richard Dawkins will look at the site to see if I have mentioned him even though he is not my friend
  
• Archbishop Sentamu will not look at the site, he knows I am one of his Facebook groupies but although he really appreciates all I do for him and God, he lets me get on with it as he loves Body Ministry.
• My Facebook friends from the 1980's will not look at the site, they dont remember who I am.

Victoria and Albert

We are working side by side in the Study. Spouse is writing his report for Work on my Mac Mini. It is good to have him in the real world again. That world of tab keys and spacing, keyboard shortcuts and autosaves. I am twittering a little on the Toshiba. Not much to do really when you have only 2 followers and no internet connection from your mobile phone. Still it keeps me in the real world again,that world of Victoria and Albert with their console or is it consort desks.

Erasmic soap. Thank God for Dixons

Aged parent and I are never at a loss for conversation. It is much easier now that she has followed eldest daughter to the audiologist and got a Digital Hearing Aid on the NHS. I have to fit it for her of course every time . She cannot manage its intricacies. I am now privy to the most interesting revelations, a pleasure to listen to as no shouting is involved. Apparantly
My Grandfather Frederick Richard Holding (died 1950),AKA the Pioneer motorist and first person to drive across the Runcorn Transporter Bridge has a history involving Erasmic Soap.
Aged Parent tells that when Grandfather was a boy in the 1880s he couldnt be found at the school he was supposed to be attending. When questioned it emerged that he had been truanting by working at the Erasmic Soap Factory, and was working to earn the money for a suit. I have researched this , and found that the Erasmic Soap factory was indeed in Warrington where Grandfather lived with his Aunt and her husband. Aged parent was delighted when I came across the Shave Stick in our local Emporium Dixons of Filey. Now Erasmic is owned by Keyline Brands of Mumbai. The smell of it has immediately brought back a flood of new found memories. What treats in store!

Team building

I see from the status updates(Facebook) of former colleagues at HJS that today has been set aside as an Inset day on Teambuilding. What a relief that I don't have to be there. Whilst I dont think they will be paint balling in the grounds , or using newspapers and cardboard boxes to cross the Assembly Hall, I do know that they will alll be wanting to sit quietly in their classrooms preparing Smart Programmes on their laptops, or having a tidy in the Stock cupboard. Some things you just cannot leave to a NTA or LSA. Ownership of ones own room is part of the anthithesis of Team Building.
I am in a Team now, only I am the Lead teacher, the Head teacher, the Curriculum Adviser, the Payroll Clerk ,the Cook and the Caretaker. It is wonderful.

Buy nothing Christmas

I see from my Advent Calendar that the Canadian Mennonites are credited with the initiative that put an alternative slant on the retail experience, and have started a Buy Nothing for Christmas experience. I am glad that this is now looking mainstream. It must be, as I heard a talk on Radio 4 this week about how the once wacky and goody goody Buy a Goat campaign has been seen for what it really is, a great idea.
In fact I see from the Oxfam Unwrapped catalogue you can now pay to train a teacher.That does appeal,thought it wont be half as good as my years in the Nunnery of the North, The College , Ripon, whose worthy motto was
Nisi Dominus frustra (O God are we frustrated), or Psalm 127,'Unless the Lord builds the City the labourers labour in vain".
The whole of our family has pledged not to give any gifts ,except to the under 5's. This is our 3rd year. We have all found that the relief is tangible. Spouse and I do not send cards to anyone we see around in our town. Spouse has refused to allow me to concoct a Round Robin. I am enjoying putting handwritten letters with cards to friends we rarely see, and have rediscovered the joy of it. I have time of course, since I have decided to withdraw from TV more often, especially as S has discovered ITV3 and has been known to watch the same episode of Poirot 3 times in as many weeks.
I have one small niggle . What will we do when the 5 small children in the family are no longer under 5?

Survivors

I loved the last series, in the 80's and have kept a stock of candles, dried peas, water purification tablets and matches ever since.
I have been following the excellent blog of Bishop Alan and love all the images and inserts, video clips and out of the box thinking . I have wondered how he manages to overcome all the copyright issues. So I have had (helped by our new Youth Leader)a go at downloading an image from a dedicated source, in this case the BBC website .This image is not mine, I have never seen Max Beesley in the flesh,so I thank you BBC and give you all the credit for allowing me to 'copy from location' as the dialogue box on my Mac says. You have however got it wrong. He is not handsome , he has funny eyes and no one on the BBC will ever be as gorgeous as Paul Daneman. I also well remember series from the BBC in the 1960s. Mr Darcy and Captain Wentworth, were played by PD I am sure. Or was it Alan Badel...

The irony in this whole learning curve is the way our new youth leader is having to lead someone from the wrong client group.

My Dreamweaver Evening course at the Yorkshire Coast College in the summer was done at great cost. The Carpark was a nightmare . I managed to get a perfect space every week by arriving so early the other students were probably watching Neighbours. The computers were a foreign country. All the very latest Macs. Did they not even realise that when most were learning div tags this student had still not even found her personal file . I struggled, and did ask for help after that, all the time. And then there was the written work I had to do. This was an evening class for goodness sake, not the Open University. What do I want with all the university credits I now have to my name? Why cant evening classes be the way they used to be ? So I can now do Dreamweaver. I have now my very own Mini Mac, sitting next to my laptop with Vista. I suppose you would say I was bilingual . I now prefer 'move to trash' to 'delete', the Mac is so logical, and friendly.Get to the point-all this effort , and the course was not technically needed at all . The blogsite , yes you heard that correctly of our parish is now up and running . It was not done with Frontpage or Dreamweaver but simply and easily on Blogger just as I have been doing in a simple way for several years.
A happy band , lead by the Topman in the whole of the ICT world aka the H... S....t has today handed over www.fileyparish.org.uk on an unsuspecting world. And the Youth Leader and a Maths teacher in the team have been helping me to update my blog skills. No carparking, no written work , not a young person but a grateful and happy one. I am not stockpiling night lights any more. I have things to do , places to go, hyperlinks to arrange, photos to take ,following to perfect, gadgets and widgets to use.......

Sam Foster

The web advent calendar on links below is worth a look.
Picture of Sam Foster for you.Just as I was thinking no one had heard of Fresh Expressions along comes Sam Foster. My friend Alison in Harrogate has lost her church building to Redundancy, and what a blessing that has become. We are watching as a Fresh Expression movement hits Scarborough Deanery, and wait expectantly for out of the box happenings here. I wonder which churches have such small congregations they are thinking its time to regroup some where else, and not bear the cost of upkeeping unattractive and expensive buildings. Or those tiny congregations lovingly a remnant in villages , just open and expectant for the Lord to take them to a new sort of Meeting where HE is in charge.

http://www.whywearewaiting.com/

Filey Pa..... Blog

I am about to be a three blog person . I have joined a happy team preparing to launch our parish into the blogsphere. My 2000 ed Oxford English Dictionary does not even contain the word blog, and although I am no Adriana Huffington , I am setting myself up as an ecclesiastical commentator. I am going to enjoy discussing really important things. Not the colour of the carpet at St O's or who has not told who what, but really important things, the answers to Life, the Universe and Everything. I will have to have my own blog link to be a proper follower, the world does not want to read about cats and teachers, they will have to be left to amuse the Facebooking family of Bridteacher. What shall I call my new blog?I shall give it some thought. Meanwhile to keep you going, here is a picture of a happy band.( of pensioners using their free passes to take a pleasant ride to Whitby)

Bodens of Filey

According to the Sunday Times 03 08 08 , Johnnie Boden dresses Middle England, and Boden Man is now showing at (and I love this bit)-'Filey, which is more bijou than Bridlington and less scary than Scarborough'.

Now it so happens that I know for once what the ST is talking about. I listen to my progeny discussing catalogue shopping , Primark, Millets , striped and cotton garments, fairtrade,organic and option excess. I know that one set of progeny's progeny have a resplendent set of garments from the Boden Catalogue for their Filey Beach Holiday, this is the set from beneath what Samson calls the 'great divide'. Scarborough set of progeny's progeny mostly wear Tesco or Sainsbury stripes, differing from the Boden stripes by approx 3mm and £25.

When I was a slummy (ST) mummy beneath the great divide, we didn't have Bodens but we had its forerunner, Clothkits. They dressed Middle England then.

And as for Bodens seen in Filey, the ST is right and wrong: they were here long before Johnnie.

Facebook 3 or 4

I do not have to apply for a job again. I am the satisfied recipient of a S.... P......, and a T....... P........, and those letters are red letter days now on my St. Catherines Hospice calendar after my birthday and Ascension Day (my favourite RLD).

I do not have to think up clever things to appeal to prospective employers looking at my Facebook page. I have been investigating, and have come to some conclusions, Facebook is not the Truth. The real people behind the profiles are rare, and all over 60. We do not have to impress, we can be ourselves.

Florida revival

Went to Christchurch Bridlington tonight to their weekly impartation meeting. It is such a shame to get an impression of what is going on in Florida and thence the UK from looking at the Dudley website. Christchurch have got it just right, and even the excellent teaching from Todd Bentley, mostly about Jehovah-Ropheka, was sound only, the worship was as good as it always is in Christchurch, and the ministry ordered and Biblical. No one asked for money, and Chris did a great sign off at the end. I have been keen on re- visiting the hebrew 'Names of God'as my prayer card is too small to read, and had just downloaded some from a website 'Character building for Families', which has 625 names for God.

The evening ended beautifully as when I got home and realised I had missed the First night of the Proms, but thanks to BBC iplayer have just heard the sublime 'Four Last songs ' by Strauss and know that all good things come from God.

Lakeside

Has a whole new meaning now. However, I think 'Ship of Fools' is worth a look. The Henry VIII lookalike is rather alarming.

Firestarter

Who says young people of today have lost the plot; not here anyway, what encouragement some of them give to retired educators.

I wonder what happened to this class of 67?

40 Camel Girl

40 Camel Girl (Letters from Turkey) is the name of a book by E.Grace Beyler going round my family. The letters were written between 1969 and 1971, from an American girl to living in Turkey with the family of her fiance,back to her parents in USA.

This was a good time for me, my liberation in London, my first job in Battersea, shopping in the Kings Road on Saturdays, concerts several nights a week, Gauloise and David Clulows , Kaftans and old fur coats gleaned from ancient aunts.

Grace Beyler stayed with PTB(Poor Turkish Boy) and his parents in Kavakli after an amazing overland trip from London in a VW called Dagmar. It reminded me that my flatmates travelled to Istambul and back ,in 1970 ,in a group from London in a Transit , for a holiday. I thought it was such an exciting thing to do , but did not have the courage to join them.

Grace remained en famille whilst PTB did his National Service. The letters were so funny, details of all the intimate family members, and extended family;the moslem conventions for the role of women in Society were so alien to me from those of the west. I learned more about Turkey in this book than I have ever before, it is a compelling read. I am trying to get some more copies of this OP book, and have e-mailed the author who is sending me some. Sometimes a book is so good you want all A level students to read it or all teenagers, this one should be read by all moaning women.

Adult Baptism

I had the privilege of being at an adult baptism on Fathers Day, albeit by sprinkling. P is the father of two teenage daughters who became Christians at a Pathfinder camp(or the like) at Criccieth in North Wales. The place is well known to Bridteacher Emeritus as it is the place where her own mother became a Christian in the 1930s at a CSSM meeting on the beach.
Anyway, P became a Christian just after his eldest daughter left to go to a Scottish University. He prayed the prayer,took the small step , made a commitment and then decided he ought to tell his Away daughter. She told him to look underneath her sister's bed. Explain here that Away daughter had slept in a bottom bunk bed. When P looked under the bed he found his name DAD writ large. Away daughter had prayed for him every night before she went to sleep, after becoming a Christian herself. I love this true story.

Echiums 2

Is ours Echium Pininana or is it Echium wildpretii xE.pininana ? The ones in the Chelsea Physic Gardens have long been the inspiration for spouse and I, every year we look hopefully at the 'For Sale Table' by the shop, longing for a tiny seedling of a different variety from our familiar friend. Our original one was bought at Burton Agnes gardens near Bridlington about six years ago: they have a formidable grove of them by the gate to the Potager Garden. I have just sent off to Chiltern Seeds for E.boissieri, and we have six seedlings of E.russicum in the greenhouse.
http://www.edirectory.co.uk/chilternseeds/
I see sadly they are out of stock. This is becoming a search for treasure.

Echiums

Just incase I have not laboured this enough,

I am delighted that my Echiums have got through the winter.

Facebook again

I had meant update the blog with details of my wonderful pilgrimage to Israel. I have hundreds of photos to upload, pithy comments to make, observations worthy of Lady Hester Stanhope, and much enthusiasm and a renewed interest in the Bible BUT I have just discovered Visual Bookshelf on Facebook so all will have to wait.

A study of Shellfish by Chantal Scott Anderton

'Shellfish' is the picture hanging in our cottage kitchen

Master of the Robarts

Introducing to the world again the noble visage of my ancestor Benjamin John Elder who died in 1856. Master of the sailing ships the 'Lady Susan 'and the 'Robarts' he is resplendant in plaster on our hall table. A forerunner of the digital photograph a plaster bust was the resort of the not so rich ,who wanted posterity without notoriety. At the moment I am using his face for my profile on Facebook where I hope every one of my five friends will appreciate him. I am hoping for notoriety for posterity.

Upstairs Downstairs

Spouse has borrowed the whole set from a friend. We have done Series 1 and Series 2. We have re-aquainted ourselves with Mrs Bridges, Ruby and Sarah. Lady Marjory has gone down on the Titanic and we await the first World War. I dont know how much more I can stand.

I thought I would add my own picture from 1972, better than Upstairs Downstairs, no 3 or 4 court Wimbledon , think its Fred Stolle.

Facebook 2

I have got the hang of the Photo Album thing now. It took 50 minutes to upload a few pictures without the benefit of Broadband, so had a trip to the Library , what a difference, minute or so to load 17.

Broadband next - Waitrose is my preferred option but everyone seems to have BT. Perhaps I 'll just wait another 10 years and go to Filey Library.

The piece of elegant red metal street furniture is a VR postbox, splendid and proud in China town ,Newcastle, just along from the Red gate which is the piece of street furniture people everyone goes to see.

Gypsey Race

I have noticed with delight that for the last week the Gypsey race has been flowing through Burton Fleming. Whether or not the good people of that post office and publess village , not a hamlet, thanks to the church, share my delight is debatable. I recall that the last time it flowed about four or five years ago it flooded across the road.
Part of my weekly pilgrimages to Beverley to live bones of Saint MVB always include the slowdown into second at the Burton Fleming crossroads and past the butcher and the bridge to view the water or lack of it. I am a fishermans daughter. Looking at the water is ingrained. Further along the flow of the Race is always visible, though sometimes only just, at the road to Woldgate a few miles from Bridlington. One could even fancy a rod and fly at some times as it wends to the sea. Further downstream , next to Bridlington Hospital , onwards to Tesco's one could only catch shopping trollies and bicycle wheels, laced with non recyclable plastic bags.
I love the name Gypsey race, I love all that is written about it in that wonderful bed side book of Topography, 'The landscape of the East Riding of Yorkshire' by K Allison. All Three sentences, and one map. Why did he write so little about it , and yet pages on Sunk Island. I am going to find out more.
Meanwhile , I persuaded to spouse to let us come home from Scarborough Hospital the scenic way today in the interests of didactic driving.
So our route was thus:
Brompton by Sawdon, a stop to look at the Derwent, sandy roadsides to Sherburn,West Heslerton and the pretty drive up to West Lutton, Weaverthorpe merely damp Gypsey race, Boythorpe , past the Burtons farm where I saw my first ever Combine Harvester, indeed it was one of the first in the East Riding. On to Wold Newton, Oh! good! water in the Gypsey Race, watch it Colin , watch it ,I have to drive, Is it still there and full . The anticipation builds- wait till you see it at Burton Fleming. Amenable spouse is trying to get enthusiastic by now. An hour after leaving the hospital, he wants to get home but is trying to be kind ,he suggests a charming divertion.Lets drive to Rudston and see how the race is doing there. I dont hesitate, this is a field trip ,not the ride home. Rudston does not disappoint, quite full past the Recycling bins. Drive straight across and through a narrow lane he says there it is , and there it is , a charming stream , a beck ,always there he says, always got water in it and I never knew. Me the East Yorkshire girl , he the London boy. He knows about the Fleet though.

Facebook or 'On a bandwaggon'

Cant decide about this one. Young people seem to leave such rude comments on the walls of their friends. Was I like this? I need to decide what I actually gain from this networking site. Understanding another generation is a start. I did the Movie Quiz Ok. Looking for a clever picture now.

Laterooms

My latest discovery is 'Laterooms'. I have been directed to this site by well travelled partner of less well travelled son. I need to find a comfortable, clean and convenient double bedded ensuite in the same spot as Malmaison, Newcastle , but for a quarter of the price and the same view of the Millenium Bridge and the Sage. I am hopeful that the price of somewhere wonderful will go down to £50 with breakfast. Will keep you posted. I am having much pleasure choosing wonderful suites, reading the reviews and deciding if 0.3km is too far. It is called Virtual holidaying or maybe Virtual booking would be better.

Disney

Christmas includes Cinderella's coach and horse in enormous box,Cinderella Slipper game (Batteries from garage as soon as it opens on Boxing Day), Winnie the Pooh game with bees round Honey Pot. Spouse aka Grandpa reads the Rescuers to small children sitting in bed two minutes after his wake-up cup of tea. Family all sitting around the log-burning stove , four generations , buffet lunch, real coffee, chocolates.
AND THE SOUND OF A RECORDING OF CAROLS FROM KINGS NOT DISNEY AND WILL NEVER BE.....