A forward tone

A woman sat on a buff coloured cushion under a bush in the shrubbery,
Around her grew hundreds of dutch bulbs.
Up at the house Mrs Munday gave her a plate full of custard, 
and a book for her young brother Cuthburt, 
who had cut his foot on a piece of wire which he had tied round and pulled too roughly.

Aged parent and I had such a laugh in Tesco's in Beverley  this week. We had reached the checkout, when a garble came over the tannoy about someone going somewhere and doing something. We commented that the speaker needed some lessons in projecting her voice, with a clearer pronunciation of her vowels. Mother then reminded me of the times she tried to teach us(children) to speak correctly when we (three girls) were small. We started to recite together, in the queue ,the woman sat  on a buff coloured cushion exercise. This was to get us to speak with a forward tone, and was one of the exercises from her own Elocution Lessons which started in 1932.  All the poems she had to learn, and all her notes are in an exercise book which I now have.

I too of course know most of the poems as well too. Little Wun Lee and the butterfly wings was always our favourite in 1950's. I still hear some of the words-snow leopards, peacocks and palanquins, and dijn and I am back in the dining room in Saltshouse Road,  listening to mother reading poetry to us, all from her book. Abou Ben Adam, The Donkey, The Listeners, Forget me not and Silver all still remembered.
As we laughed at the absurdity of the woman sitting on the buff coloured cushion,Mother told me about her Elocution Teacher.
'She was called Miss Winifred Parr, she had an Eton Crop, and was very tall and thin, and always wore a velvet ribbon choker'

Mother and I carried on talking about Winifred Parr as we stood waiting at the Cashout. We wondered just how many other people talk about her after 80 yrs . I Googled 

winifred parr birkenhead

But got nowhere.

I wonder if she made up the exercise for the Forward Tone? I wonder how many other people recited it to their children, and grandchildren, and had a good laugh.

When I got home to Filey another unknown but much appreciated  lady from  the 1930s stormed my consciousness. I have Googled her too for years to find out about her. She is a Gladys Waller, who lived in Surbiton in 1936. That is what it says on the back of a drawing in pencil, chalks and crayon I bought in 1968 in a junk shop in Webbs Road Battersea with my first salary.  It was 30s . I am taking it as my luxury to my Desert Island. 

Beeches nr Reigate by Gladys Waller

Living Water

No , not this stuff or any other in a bottle. Infact why do people in the UK buy bottled water at all when they can turn on a tap and get pure drinking water?  And  now in restaurants no one gives a care if one orders a jug of aqua tap. Happy customers go on to have desserts and coffee, where the money is to be made, and come back again.

Masada a Herodian fortress, dating from 31 BC

I never understood what the term Living Water really meant until I had been to Masada  near the Dead Sea on a trip to Israel last year. The fortress is1300 feet high , and it is really , really hot when walking around and learning about it. It is the most visited site for all Jews to Israel, and all Israeli soldiers take an oath there 'Masada shall not fall again', a reference to its horrible history.

Over 2000 years ago when Masada was one of  the luxurious palaces of Herod, lack of water was a bit of a problem, brilliantly overcome by the engineers of the time.It was stored in vast cisterns , and ingeniously collected in the time of rains ,  enough for ritual baths, swimming pools and all the drinking and utility water. 

The stored water then , in Israel, was a necessity for the dry seasons, sometimes going on for years and giving famine. (Moses,Elijah, Elisha, Joseph, Ruth and Naomi etc the stories of drought are all there in the Bible).

When it rained the fresh  water was welcomed and praised as LIVING WATER. It was no wonder that Jesus kept referring to water all through his ministry. We do not have the lack of it so  it wasn't until I visited a HOT and arid place that I got the meaning for my self. 

Living Water is also a symbol of the Holy Spirit. In Jerusalem when Christ returns there will be a river flowing through the place of the Temple.In NT times  the joyous  feast of Tabernacles,  the pouring out of water by the priests was the happy highlight. No wonder Jesus caused a few heads to turn when he said 

'If anyone thirsts let him come to me' 

on the very day of the ceremony. 

So as I think about water today, I also think of how the bible passages make so much more sense to those who know what it is to consider it such a precious and life giving commodity. Lest we take it for granted , today is a day to think about those for whom the daily supply of clean water is the single most important NEED . 

I have been looking at the facts on  the Water Aid website.




And for my grandchildren Have some fun Here. Yorkshire Water's own website is here.

Blog Action day on Friday

Blog Action Day 2010: Water from Blog Action Day on Vimeo.

19 Princelet Street. Spitalfields

I have been thinking much about 19 Princelet Street recently. Its open so rarely to the public that I realized I was priviledged to have actually got in to see it  a few years ago.
If anyone says
'What is the the most memorable visit you have have ever made to a place?'
I would have to say,
 'after Israel, 19 Princelet Street, Spitalfields London'

I'm not even going to describe it , other than to say that in a dilapidated and fragile building, not a short walk from Hawksmoor's beautifully restored Christchurch, is a synagogue in a house that has been a home for Huguenots fleeing persecution, Jews fleeing persecution, Artists, craftspeople, and recluses. It now is a statement of the need for all of us to recognize the beauty of Diversity.

Thanks Simon

Blogging and Stress

I'm up early today as we are going to Grandparents lunch at St Martins School in Scarborough. We're quite stressed at the whole thing. We want to support our 5yr old grandson, but the stress is not to do with the actual lunch but to do with the parking in Holbeck. Spouse and I have been told to be there for 11.30, (pre-dinner drinks you might think), but a note in Book Bag of small child informs that grandparents of younger children need to arrive early. It is already pouring with rain.  The car -parking on the road near the school holds few cars, the public car park on the cliff top is delightful but not only exposed but at the foot of a hill which troubles those who have had heart attacks. Last Friday evening the walk to get small boy in Pouring rain , Too High Wind, No car-parking near school, resulted in me being so soaked that I had to have a bath when I got home to Filey. So we are stressed again today. BUT its not windy, so maybe umbrellas may be used. I will drop Grandpa at the top of the hill first, then go back and park. 

Now that narrative stressed me out just writing it, and yet on a scale of what stresses most people on a scale of 1-10 , (10 being lots of stress ) the journey for most would only have a stress factor of 2. It is 10 for us. You don't know all the contributing factors, or variables that would add into the maths.

• I am a reluctant driver when accompanied by spouse
• I hate spouse telling me where there,s an easy spot
• the weather
• the timing for arrival (Time has become of  Stroke inflicted importance  with us) 
• I am sole driver since spouse had his stroke
• Scarborough is very hilly if you are us
• there is nowhere to hang wet coats for grandparents at St Ms

We are not total Dorks , we manage the great cities of Europe quite easily, and even managed the security at Ben Gurion Airport with relish and enjoyment.

Writing a Post  for me is 2 on a stress scale. I worry that I have spelled the words correctly, and that my children will not be cross.I am always editing the spelling, the punctuation and the Grammar. I don't want any child that I have ever taught to realise that I am not a perfect technician when it comes to the English Language.

For me the stress in Blogging is when one  realises that interacting in the Cyberworld is as difficult as interacting in the Real World.  For the first  3 years of writing this blog I never read the blogs of anyone else. No one read my blog, as far as I knew, no one commented much , apart from my sister .I had no idea that the blogsphere existed.

When I joined our Parish Website Team, and the Filey Parish Blog was born I suddenly became part of a networking  cyberworld. We in our Parish Blog team were so delighted when Rev Tim Norwood became our first follower.His blog had been our inspiration for the Parish Blog, as Simon Rudiger knew him from Milton Keynes. Now Tim is so busy being a Priest and Father he doesn't do his wonderful blog any more. I see what he is doing from Facebook and Twitter, and thank God for him. No stress here at all. He continues as a follower of the Parish Blog. (Thanks Tim). And here comes the STRESS. In the Cyberworld of Blogging some people are so keen to get their blogs read by the world and their wives that the object of blogging appears to be TO GET KNOWN.I was so upset when Bishop Alan removed us from his blogroll.

My ego was raised so much when I was blogrolled that I was in danger of CROWD PLEASING to get read. 

I have noticed in the last few months that the STRESS of blogging has removed the will to blog from some of the best ones out there in my Google Reader selection. I am questioning my Blogging Practice. Blogging every day, even if done using the Scheduling Facility brings ones blogs to the top of a Blogroll more often. Am I jealous of those people who have their blogs read by lots and lots of people?  Are the popular bloggists wanting to be famous, or  Bishops or are they wanting affirmation. I sat up in bed this morning and read my daily bit from St Thomas a Kempis. It was all about people pleasing. So am am having a serious think.

•  I dont  want to be famous
• I think my blog is great
• I think Samsons blog is even better
• I dont want to be a Women anything, I want to be me
• I want lots of followers
• I want my children to let me write about them
• I want to be rich enough to buy fillet steak once a week
• I want an easy parking space very close to St Martins, and not to have to sit on a baby chair

Not the Children of men

No colour in this film!

Spouse has just suggested we watch The Children of Men  at 9pm. I have  soundly refused. Its a great film, Ive seen it before.  Its an even better book by PD James, infact one of her very best. I've always loved Science Fiction , and this dystopian story , where the youngest person in the world is 18 years old, and the elderly are taken off in trips round the harbour to death  has a completely believable story line. I even think that all the milk we drink these days must be so  full of hormones that I cannot see why Organic milk isn't more popular. No Children are born in the world of this story, and I worry now that barrenness is a part of our  true world today.  Are we slowly poisoning our Human Race to infertility today in the west?

I would have watched the film again, but I am really not in the mood for the darkness , gloom and misery before the happy ending. The music is great, lots of Taverner and Mahler and Handel  but I' ve had enough of cult  films for a while. I am ready for a re -run of 'The African Queen' or Sleepless in Seattle,or maybe even 'Pretty Woman'.

We have seen 2 films this weekend you see. The first one was  Soylent Green. Why had I never heard about this film before? Where have I been hiding my curiosity and film search mind.  After all I managed to persuade spouse to buy other unlikely DVD's . Soylent Green managed to pass me by in the 70s. I had not even heard of it until someone in our homegroup lent it to us with Topsy Turvy, the story of G and S.(when our daughter was doing Broadway Pirates. This film sure puts the Day of the Triffids in the shade, and believe me you will never eat Lasagne Verdi ever again. Second film of the weekend was Gran Torino, another tale of misery , woe and darkness  but hope and light overcome.

There is only so much wretchedness I can watch at one go. So I will go back to my Redwall book, a tale of murder and villainy , where mice and hedgehogs and badgers are the good guys, and weasels, stoats and rats are the vermin evil do-ers. So thats all right then.

Harold Gower Bruce (22.09.1910-27.11.75) Born a 100 years ago Today

This picture of my father was taken in August 1970. 

He spent a few days with me in London, staying at my flat. He didn't know London well, and I had the privilege of showing him around. 

We took the River boat to Greenwich and walked around The Royal Naval College, seeing all the Marine pictures he so loved. The view from where he stands in this picture , high above the River Thames and not far from the Royal Observatory and the Greenwich Meridian  is spectacular for London , matched only by the view of the River from the Star and Garter at Richmond or the downstream view from Westminster bridge. You see, my father loved views and Ships. Every morning ,from his bedroom window, in our Sutton on Hull home, on a hill called Riseholme,  he would get out the Telescope and look across with it to the docks. He would call to us what he could see, spotting the marks and icons on funnels as we spot logos on trainers. The Hull Daily Mail would confirm or inform his viewing. He always turned first to the the Sailings and What's in Dock page of the paper first. 
Our childhood Saturdays or Sundays would often include a drive to Paull  or King Georges Dock to watch the ships in and out .In 1953 we all waited by the riverside in Paull  to  wave to Great Aunty Julia ,  sailing  into Hull from New York.  The ship was the Wilson Lines  Rialto.(5000tons). Aunty Julia came for a visit , but stayed for 7 years until her death.
We were all disappointed when a barrier was erected at Paull, as it meant one could no longer sit in the car and watch the river traffic, as the view was gone. Ship watching involves often hours of expectant waiting.  My father knew all the vessels, from the Humber Pilot  launches to his favourite (Ellerman)  Wilson liners, plying trade across to Scandinavia, Rollo, Volo, Bravo, Borodino, etc . My grandfather had sailed as engineer with Wilson Lines in its golden days. I have all his Ships Papers still.

We followed all the development of King Georges Dock. Father would explain all the changes to us, we learned about Lockpits and the Plimsoll line, welcomed the new Roll-on Roll-off ferries , and marvelled at the danger of the dockside, the machinery and smells of churned up oil slicks, and the water  which Father always called muddy umber. These dockside visits would not be allowed now, in the interests of Health and Safety, but they were jewels in a childhood, remembered , taken out , looked at and put quietly back.

Here is one of my fathers own paintings, he did it especially for me, and it is my treasure -the view from Drypool Bridge in 1970.

King of Clouds

It doesn't really matter if I've got the name wrong. I have looked in my Cloud Collectors handbook and decided that whatever its name might be , Cumulonimbus or not ,this cloud was part of my life for 5 minutes as the train from York to Kings Cross gave me chance. I marvelled at its natural Beauty.

I don't really care how the planet came into being, or how the Earth fits into the scheme of things. There might not even be a scheme of things. There might be a chaos of things. I know what I believe, and that it is that the  infinity of time and  space is too big for me to even think about . I now think I know that we are not living on a flatworld held up by four elephants, that we will not be offered the choice of a red or blue pill to the Matrix, that the world was not created in 6 days of the 24 hours we have now, but I might be wrong. I could think about these things for years, but no amount of equations, discussions and Hadron converters will ever convince me that these are going to add value to my life .

My teflon frying pan was a useful by -product of Space exploration, but I have gone back to a Wok. Richard Dawkins is providing people with something to talk about. 

Even if we are forced to become an underground Church I believe that nothing is more powerful that an Omniopotent, Almighty and Omnipresent YHWH For the first time in my life those long words of Thomas a Kempis (1380-1471) resonate.

Laud and honor to the Father,
laud and honor to the Son,
laud and honor to the Spirit,
ever Three and ever One,
consubstantial, co-eternal,
while unending ages run.

I cannot make any argument for or against my beliefs. I am not clever enough to weigh things up ,and present lucid and logical statements backed up by facts, or  theories of facts. My only certainties are supernatural answers, occurrences and interventions in my life ,not explained by rational. I know what I believe.

This church of St Andrews, Woodwalton  which is only an Adlesdrop glance from the same train as the King  of Clouds puts my whole belief into perspective. This friendless Church whose website invites one to become a friend of a Friendless Church, seems to typify the waste of time in keeping and maintaining an idea that a church is bricks and mortar, when to me a church is a place to keep out the rain as one gives Glory to God. Yes , it is a charming landmark, nearly at Peterborough. That is all it is. It might as well be a Travelodge or a Train Spotting  centre.

So here is the King of Clouds before I passed it by. It Beckoned. I Responded.

Eulalia!

I've had a couple of reading weeks.Sounds as if I'm on study leave, but no, I'm on strike!Therefore I have time to read.
I used to hear my mother and aunt say they were not enjoying cooking. They had been feeding the hordes for so long that they had actually run out of enthusiasm and ideas. I never thought I would get to that stage in domestic life myself.

• I have always enjoyed making curries , taking all day roasting the spices, making naans, chopping the herbs, stirring, and savouring.
• I have always enjoyed pouring over my Be-ro cookbook 1930 and producing Melting Moments, Rock buns and Shrewsbury biscuits.
• I have always enjoyed making the Sunday Lunch, sitting through Morning service and wondering if the oven was high enough or too high.
• I have always enjoyed getting out the Mouli and blending the soup, and adding the last minute lovage.

Well I've had enough.    I have been reading  this summer. A salad has been flung together for dinner, but now I have reached my Crisis. It is time to start back on cooking. The long summer of family and friends have all gone back to work or school. I am about to start the rest of my year where housework has to restart, after garden meals, chalet meals, no mess except on rainy days, and spouse happy with the carpet sweeper.  The cat is now trailing garden debris into the warm house after months under the acanthus, the garden chairs are losing their afternoon reading appeal as the shadows lengthen and I hear the call of stews, casseroles and spinach and rice pies. So I have thrown down the gauntlet. I do not want to cook. I do not want to shop. I do not want to do house work. I WANT TO READ. I want to sit quietly and be enthralled. 

I want to carry on reading as I have done all summer. It has  been good for me, I have not been stressed. I have slept well all summer. I have not had any  flashing light migraines. I have  dozed in the greenhouse with the gentle business of hoverflies and  spiders and woken in time to spring into action as family return from beach or bus. I have caught up with my Reading groups list. My brain has benefited from a mind stretch.
I have read some very good books. The Winter Vault by Anne Michaels comes top for all round joy of the written word. I always do a few quick read Jane Austens, as Mills and Boon to me, girl gets the man in the end with good grammar. I would never have read Old Filth but for my Reading group, read it in a day, oblivious to visitors and calls to kitchen. Kate Atkinsons new Jackson Brodie novel with the forgettable name is the best of them yet.

But I have rediscovered Redwall. 
As I searched for my collection of the Kate Atkinson novels next to my Lindsey Davis  novels I found my Redwalls. I realised that I had not even opened Eulalia, bought in 2007 and still have Loamhedge to read.

So I am on  strike! I do not want to cook , I want to read.

Spouse can do beans on toast and I can fling together salads, even winter salads.

Either its because I haven't actually read any Brian Jacques for 4 years, or Eulalia was a splendid contrast to the reads of the last 6 weeks,but I am hooked again. Its Loamhedge next, and then there are 2 more to buy.

 Eulaliaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!

The Creed

Asbo Jesus  created this . He says just what I feel ! Click to enlarge

The Wilderness Downtown

H/T to Tim Leeson who tweeted this url and said it was one of the 5 best things he had ever seen online
http://www.thewildernessdowntown.com/

Guess where I grew up?

Not going to Greenbelt

Well I have been to Cheltenham many times. I know what a Festival is too,well I know all about the Festival Hall , the Filey Festival, Cropredy and Easter and Pentecost. All my Twitter friends seem to be in a Tiny Tea Tent . Colin and I are in our sitting room.  We are not wearing our wellies or queuing up for an eco burger  or a mug of Green tea.

We had a festival all of our own yesterday as we did a BBQ in the garden dodging the downpours and watched sausages nearly take off from the charcoal into the air as the high winds fanned into flame all but our enthusiasm.  Even Samson didnt choose to finish off the black crusted pork offerings or bits of well done kebabs.The rest of the afternoon 4 small under 6's and appropriate adults had a happening in the house, with seminars on Marble Magic,Songs of Praise and Walk the Plank.

Today we have cleared up after our Festival, bagged the rubbish and are already planning the next one.

I am however enjoying the tweets from #gb10. I know that God is the energy that brings order to the Cosmos

God is the energy that brings order to the Cosmos, says Keith Skene from Greenbelt Festival on Vimeo.

Twitter has brought me a vicarious visit. It has also taken me to General Synod, the sitting rooms of 5 people watching football, to one man on a bus home every day, to 3 people on trains, one great friend from a Starbucks every day, my cyber friend in Norfolk as she never stops ,my cyberfriend the Pastor as he writes his sermons and my own never rings but always twitters Godson as he gets his nipper to sleep. I don't have to go anywhere.

I've gone and put a blogroll on the Parish Blog

I hope the website team of which I am the humblest tea maker and biggest gob  will not mind that I have used my initiative . I've gone and put a blogroll on the Parish Blog. Pete Webmaster is away  climbing up to see the view of Tarn Hows  from fells covered in sheep droppings, clues left by a Mr Wainright, and lots of No Parking on this 1 in 3 minor road which is a single track  signs. Simon, headtaster  of Costa and Starbucks has left our team to organize the Youth Work of the Scottish Congregational Presbyterians on Twitter, Brian is in a caravan somewhere looking for Red Kites, and I have been left to play out with the Blogger Platform. We have an Emerging Team , but they have not all got PERMISSIONS .

So I have been into Gadgets , done it . I have been very careful to choose a mixture of blogs. I have been subtle too. I have not put it on the Home Page, but on the Faith Page.  I may not be discovered for years. Its on the Faith page at the moment. I am secretly wanting to be a correspondent in my own right with a Blogroll page-where Comments and Discussions will be vibrant, regular and the talk of  Passing of the Peace. What do you think of what the Churchmouse said, Is Frisby Wiske near Spurgeons Bible College, When does Ruth Gledhill do her ironing?Is Maggi Dawn her real name? all very spiritual.

Scampson

We love a visit to Scampson Walled Garden  . The drive  across the Wolds, Hunmanby,Wold Newton and all the villages from there to West Lutton, then dropping down to Wintringham and Wolds Way Lavender Farm is a delight in itself. We usually combine the visit to Scampson with a visit to the Lavender farm for lunch, and a stroll around the wildlife path. This year we found that it costs £3.50 to go around the Lavender fields . It used to be free, and we have sent many friends there .  Most people buy some Lavender oil, and have a sandwich and a cup of tea so we are very disappointed that we can no longer use it as a springboard to our visit to the gardens of nearby Scampson, which as a Modern garden is one of the best in the county, but where the lunch costs a fortune, and the tea cups are very thick pottery, my bete noire .

Just a few members of the Compositae for you

Starr Carr and Miss Witherington (Ripon 1966) and Ivy Drayton (Wandsworth 1969)

Thanks to the Guardian10 08 2010and Lorne Campbell for this picture of the Starr Carr House

Disc Barrow Winterbourne Stoke Group 1971

Colin shouted at me to come and watch the BBC news this morning , but it was the words Starr Carr which made me dash to watch. Within 5 minutes I had texted my  prehistory loving sister in Cheshire, planned a  trip to the site, planned a a revisit to the finds of the 1949 dig in the BM and recalled in a flash Miss Witherington.

When I decided to do Prehistory at College as a  second subject diversion from the lab , where I spent hours looking down Microscopes and staining things with Delafields Haematoxylin, Miss Witherington , our lecturer on Prehistory was in love with her subject. She passed on to me a yearning to know all I could about the  round barrows , long barrows, enclosures, and cup and ring marks in any area where I set my feet for more than a day. Thanks to her, I did courses on the sites of Anatolia- and all sites within reach of Wandsworth with  Ivy Drayton , another wonderful  teacher and an inspirational encourager. With Miss Witherington I did every Prehistoric site near Ripon, went to Thornbury aligned Circles and Devils Arrows at Boroughbridge. With Miss Drayton to Coldharbour Iron Age Fort near Dorking and Abinger pit dwelling. 

 I have thought for years about how a teacher sparks off in a learner something which becomes a lifelong JOY. Both these enthusiasts taught me to appreciate lumps in the ground, aerial Photographs, topography and a desire  to make sense of few clues.  It is because of them that I traipsed around  Amesbury and Winterbourne Stoke  alone with a camera in 1971. It is because of them that the trip to Beverley past Argham and Maidens Grave is a fascinating thought starter.

Ditch at Stonehenge 1971

You could walk right up to the monument in 1971

My sister Susan told me about local sites, Duggleby Howe, and the Chariot Burials.My children always call out' Long Barrow' Mum every time we pass a Covered water reservoir. They have not forgotten a childhood of being dragged to Belas Knap or Waylands Smithy. Colin has been known to put his foot down, literally when I call out that looks like a round barrow as we drive past a mound with a ring of trees atop.

I am supposed to be gardening this afternoon , and then tidying and cleaning before Housegroup comes tonight. I think Ill go and find my 35ml slides I last used when I taught 4orange History in Wimbledon Chase Middle School in 1973. I'll scan them in for us all.

My sister Susan is coming on Saturday , I know she will be in the car with me to the Carrs before I can call out Lake Pickering.

Bowl Barrow Winterbourne Stoke Group 1971

Filey Crab and Samphire

It doesn't take much to have a really good time . You need newspaper, an old hammer, some cocktail sticks and a Filey Bay crab from Lovetts.

Every time my grand -daughters are here with us , I am asked every day 'When are we going to have a crab Grandma?' 

I forget that even a trip to a Fishmonger is interesting  for some small children .Even the buying of it fascinated my small girls, wanting to know why one buys a male crab for claw meat, why do you have to have it opened in front of you, how do you tell its a male? The Samphire is   something they have not tasted before, and we buy just a taste to go with the crab. Sitting under the pergola on a warm August afternoon, salad made,and the promise of chips from Browns , we sit and  attack the crab . We pick it and eat bits as we go, discuss the barnacles on the legs and the dead man's fingers. It takes just the right length of time to occupy  5 and 6 year olds. 

Crabs featured in  my childhood too . I was sent to the Hull Indoor market to buy crabs for my aunt in Sutton. I had to get it just right! We would have Crab salad teas  at Church Mount, and I was always sent next door to give Mrs Rook a crab sandwich. Last week my neighbour gave me a lobster to cook and eat. That was so easy to do-much more white meat, but did not have the fiddle ,teaze and prod that dressing a crab entails. 

Its been a Sea food week. We were given a whole Filey Bay salmon on Saturday too. It was so big I could not get it in the freezer so had to cut it up first. Only a few boats take up the task of line-netting these fish looking for a river . Visitors to Filey are entralled by seals basking off the Brigg, but realise not that they are after the salmon.

So only a few more days with small girls staying  , to remind me of wonderment in everyday things, and reminding me not to take them for granted.

I have been given a Crucifix too, made from the cardboard in the scrap box.

Flog it

For 4 days now Kiaora has been a 3 generation house again.

On the top floor in the bedroom with the view of the sea are my daughter and her husband. The room is small for 2, 3'single beds made up as one kingsized, so much so, that spouse has had to tie pan cleaning sponges to the legs nearest the door so that no one is injured by bumping into a corner in the way that I did when making up the bed. I've just climbed the 10,5, 9 stairs from the sitting room to the 2nd floor. I wanted to check that I was in order calling it a sea view. I was . The light at Flamborough is 4 white flashes every 15 seconds. When my sister used the room with the seaview she found comfort from the predictable automatic candelas which may be seen for 24 nautical miles.

 

Next door 2 small grand-daughters have more room, a Barbie Palace, cut outs of the Cottages in Balamory from one of my school Assemblies, and blackout curtains brought from Sussex to ensure holiday long sleeps.

On our floor the sign of multi -occupancy is only the 4 extra toothbrushes in my bathroom . They only use it for Teeth Cleaning procedures, as my bathroom is deemed too old fashioned and dilapidated for more routines and ablutions. That suits me fine. 

The conjugal bedroom has  single occupancy at the moment.  We have not fallen out , but spouse has got his first taste of what the Geriatric of Filey all seem to have -arthritis in his knee. His walk  to Malyon Spout with the family came to a nasty end. His knee has increased in size by a third, he is unable to walk, unable to have anti-inflammatories , has frozen pea poultice every hour and the laying on of hands.He is of course sleeping on the sofa bed in the sitting room,with the TV  controls, a commode just in case , his book, and perfect contentment apart from the pain.

Today is the birthday of Scarborough Daughter, our No 1. She and husband and small grandsons of the  never stop talking sort , into everything sort , I'm always hungry sort ,have been here all day too. 

The plan was to have a Chalet Birthday down on the front. It rained on and off all morning so everyone was here-4 under 7s, 4 young adults, suduko, cups of coffee every 20minutes, the car cleaned with the dish cloth, the watering cans used helpfully, Grandma,  all morning, on everything . Daughter no 2 was nurse all day, supervised all the furniture moving and shuffling and trips to the freezer for peas. Grandchildren careered round all of us all morning , in and out of the house, up and down the stairs. I got lunch.

By 2'o clock the paddling pool , the chalet, the beach, the 2 dolphins and 2 sharks were deemed usable. Spouse of course had to be driven down to the Royal Parade.

I took him down with daughter NO 2

Ring when you want me to fetch you home, I said, having to go home to park, no space in the summer.

Aren't you coming down  too Mum? they said

I need to get on with the birthday cake I said

So I did absolutely nothing on the sofa, fell asleep for forty winks , and watched Flog It.

A Lovely day for a Survey

Its a good job we did the Plantlife survey yesterday because today part of my wildflower path has been managed . That is, Colin says, the roadside verge so rich in convolvulus  and lesser knapweed has now been mown by NRCC.

Someone once told me that living in Filey was like living in a village where every one knows about every one else. I grew up in a village (Sutton in Holderness) and remember every time I was sent to the shops my mother saying 'Now don't tell all the village our business!'  I have had three conversations today which started 'I saw you and Colin going along the Scarborough Road...............' .  So I proceeded to tell them all about the Wildflower count, just to emphasise that I don't spend all my time on QWERTY , can still walk miles with ease with a rucksack, am still married to Colin, have some striped socks, and am interested in more than detective novels and the price of fish.  Maybe if I walked along the main road out of Filey every so often the mile to the roundabout-I could vary the reasons-I  was going on a prayer walk, I was going to pray for people in every car going past on the A165, I was going to meditate on the wonder of Gods creation at the side of the road. When it comes to talking to people it is much easier to talk about my passion for flora than it is for my love affair with God.

Leaving the main road to count the plants on the public footpath seaward  to the Cliff across Filey Field was not so rich botanically, but a treasure find  emotionally . 

GOLD-It reminded me of all the miles I walked before I was married, with  friends and or my sister Susan and her friends . I youth Hostelled enthusiastically-Lake District mostly , but also Isle of Arran and west of Scotland. I remember baths where you had to pay for the plug, Fleas, cooking damper bread , tin after tin of baked beans, pouring rain and not be allowed in until 4pm, picking and eating chanterelles, lots of laughs with total strangers, Black Sail Hut and walking across fells in thick mist from cairn to cairn. Colin has never been 'a walker' but our 5 miles yesterday started a new chapter in our 38 years together. He says he will come again. The trick is to have an end worth reaching. Yesterday it was the promise of lunch with chips at the Country Park Cafe.

SILVER-The weather was hot but perfect, after rain ,so clear and  clean, with the views at maximum spendour.(millions of little flies-hence the Ag not Au). Every time we stopped we were beseiged. Still they did not bite.

GOLD- It reminded us both of a long ago walk on the Berkshire Ridgeway,

looking for Waylands Smithy. Perfect Path, no other People but 3 dog walkers, and the fascination of being up close and personal with a field of Oil seed Rape which edged the public footpath.

GOLD- Lots of insect life for Colin,his favourite Moth -the 6 Spot Burnet, lots of butterflies, too quick for me to digitalize.I hoped for a blue butterfly and saw several, but am not able to say which one it was other than it was small and sky blue matching the day.

BRONZE   I was glad that I found one species I had not found before, but I Should have known it as it turned out to be the Common Fleabane (Pulicaria dysenterica). Its name suggests that it has all sort of efficacious uses.

GOLD The views when I finished the  survey  Km were at their North Yorkshire Best, and so were the Chips!