Sepia Saturday 216: Three men - a mystery

This weeks prompt for Sepia Saturday is of three men in hats.

I couldn't find three men in suits but I did find a picture of three men in hats.

The picture was amongst the collection recovered from the house of Ian's neighbour. It's in poor condition but you can definitely see three men and by the looks of it they are in some kind of costume. Perhaps they are in a play or a charade of some sort? I hope that's what it was because if you look closer....

... you can see that one of them is pointing a gun at the other man. They don't look too worried however...

Sky's on Fire

Last night's sky really looked like it was on fire.

View from the office window

Sky and clouds

Pingy

Pingy is the name we give to the extending lead that we used when walking the dog when we don't want to let him run free but we want him to be able to sniff and explore things nearby. We use it when we are in parks, or out on long walks where we might come across other people or other dogs, or where we might go close to a road. It's a solid, professional standard lead, that extends to about 10 metres, but can quickly be pulled back in when we need to.

It's not that the dog doesn't understand 'come', and most of the time he is very obedient and does just that when called. It's just that he is a little wilful and if he is doing something interesting he will hesitate before returning. He also has a very high prey drive, and if he sees something fluffy or fast, such as deer or a sheep, a red mist descends and he becomes deaf and blind to anything else other than the chase. He will take off instantly and chase whatever it is he has seen until he has calmed down or lost the scent or until he remembers himself. This can take anything from two to thirty minutes.

Today we went for our evening walk and I noticed that our neighbours sheep were in our field, so we ventured out with pingy. For a while he didn't notice the sheep, but then he got a scent and got exited. He still didn't see them, but then as we came over the hill they were there. I thought I had the lead locked short but it must have slipped, so he took off at full pelt. Realising that when he got to the end of the lead I was either going to dislocate my shoulder or he was going to strangle himself I had no option but to let go.

I watched the stinky dog charge 100 or so metres with the extending lead flying behind him. I watched the sheep run through the hole in the fence from whence they came, and I watched him jump over the fence trailing pingy behind him, getting it caught in the fence for a while and then pulling it free. Dog and sheep disappeared.

I ran over quickly calling him all the time, worried that he had gone down into the woods with the lead trailing behind him; imaging him hanging from a branch or tree, with the sheep gloating in glee at the bottom.

I got round the corner and saw him wandering back, lead still there, looking annoyed that he had been hampered in his sheep chasing activities. Panic over!

Floods and Eggs

I have been watching the news reports of the extreme weather in Britain, with storms, gales, tidal surges and flooding and actually feeling rather glad that I am not trying to get to work or travel anywhere as I can imagine the sense of panic and the disruption that would permeate everywhere. Of course the sense of catastrophe always seems worse for those of us that are not actually there, whereas if I was 'in the thick of it' I would just be getting on with it and probably wondering what all the fuss is about.

Here we have also had unseasonable weather. This winter we haven't had more than about 5 frosts, and none of them have been severe. Instead we have had day after to day of heavy rain. The ground is now waterlogged, every time the dog goes outside for a wee he brings in more mud, my coat is covered in mud, my wellies are just about holding up and the grass is growing but too wet to cut! We have had our own flood to deal with. Our house and garage are on a slope and the garage is lower than the house. We have always had problems with run-off from the fields when the ground is saturated. It used to hit the rock below the cellar and then sit there. This was solved by building a moat style drain in front of the house and installing a pump. However, we made a beginner's error when the electric and water supply were laid going down to the garage.

We laid the conduit for the pipes but failed to realise that when it rains they become a channel for the water and take the water straight down the pipes and up into the floor of the garage. Ian spent a week out there in the rain, digging and laying another drain to divert the water away from the garage, and we had to unpack everything, check it, dry it all out and put it back afterwards. It wasn't really a problem we wanted to have to sort out, but at least it was something that we could solve, unlike the people living by the River Thames, who can only wait for dry weather and the waters to subside.

Closer to home, the Gironde flooded in Bordeaux a couple of weeks ago, and the left bank and Bastide area was under half a metre of water. The towns of Marmande and Tonniens in the Lot et Garronne were also affected.

So.. what has this to do with eggs? Well apparently the chickens like the milder weather and our local farmer friend in currently getting a dozen eggs a day. He has been giving them to us at the rate of 2 dozen a week! We pass some on to other neighbours but I am running out of ideas of things to do with eggs! I think we will having quiche tonight!

Master Tom Welch, Comedian: Sepia Saturday 214

 

 



The prompt for Sepia Saturday this week is of a couple around a piano. It is an upright piano and similar to the one owned by my grandfather. One of my fondest memories of summer holidays as a child was listening to him playing the piano. He lived near the seaside and when we were younger the entire family descended on him and my grandmother for two weeks, staying with them in their small bungalow. The upright piano was in the sitting room; the sitting room that smelled slightly of pipe tobacco, mints, polished wood and musty music. In the evenings we could sometimes persuade Tom to open the piano, take out his songbook and tinkle on the keys. We were enchanted as we watched him loose himself in the songs.

My grandmother told us that Tom could play anything, that he learned most songs by ear, and that often he would just sit and play for the sheer pleasure of doing so, and maybe for the memories.

When they were younger my grandparents used to take part in music hall. I wouldn't imagine this was the music hall of the grand old type, but rather smaller, local events put on for and by communities across London. In the days before cinema and television live entertainment was more commonplace.

Tom started early. Amongst his memorabilia I found the remains of this programme dated April
1913, from the Hemmingford St John football club annual concert and dance

Add caption

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On the first page  just before the presentation of the swimming awards, you can see that the 'act' is Master Tom Welch, who was billed as a Comedian and was performing 'Yiddle on your fiddle' maybe sounding something like  this and 'I don't care what becomes of me'.  Tom would have been around 13 years old at the time of this performance.

Fifteen years later, at the age of 28,  Tom was still performing but this time he had a more sedate roll as the pianist at the 'Grand Smoking Concert' held after the final and semi finals of the Domino Championship, hosted by the ECDO sorters (the post office sorting department). (He worked for The Royal Mail for most of his life).

 

 

This time he was the opening act for both parts of the evening and the accompanist.

Tom also played the piano accordion, and my grandmother sang with him as a soprano. She once told me that she deeply regretted not following her desire to become a professional singer and have her voice properly trained.

In his later years Tom would occasionally play the piano at the local old folks home and day centres. When he died none of us had room in our small houses and apartments for the piano and my grandmother couldn't bear to look at it so she gave it to the church.

Tom and Dorothy

 

China and other stories: Sepia Saturday 213

I'm afraid there is a bit of tenuous link to the theme this week of holidays and suitcases, but I feel that now the time is right to share my secret 'treasure trove' of sepia with my fellow Sepians, and I can't wait for a more relevant prompt.

 

 



 I have to start with a bit of background information... Ian's mother used to live next door to two elderly ladies in South East London. They were sisters and shared a large Victorian House until they were both too old and frail. They never married and Ian's mum used to help them our from time to time. When they died she helped to clear their house and acquired a large wooden chest of drawers. When they finally got to look inside, tucked at the back was a collection of old photos. Most of them are on the original glass plates, there are a few negatives and a small collection of prints. Most of them are in poor condition.

No one has ever known what to do with them. The women's father was a Captain A Edwards and I think at one time he had some kind of ambassadorial role in China and/or Japan. The photographs must be from around the early 1900s and as such must have some historical value. In our hurry to move to France we just packed them up and brought them with us and they have remained in the boxes until now, when we have finally managed to unpack a few.

Amongst other things, the photographs seem to be of life in China and the day to day life of these two sisters, who we think were the photographers. So, I suppose the link is to one great big voyage that needed more than one or two suitcases.

The writing on the back of this picture says it was taken in China but that's all I know.  We would like to be able to recover the images from the glass plates, so if any fellow Sepians have any ideas as to how that could be done we would be most grateful.  Until we can find a home for them where they will be appreciated we will continue to be their guardians and maybe share a few more along the way.

Making Progress

This week I had one of those moments where I suddenly felt all those weeks of French lessons, all the headaches, all the hours spent feeling like my head was going to explode, are beginning to pay off. The occasion was a meal at the home of some French friends. They are a lovely  couple, who are interesting and interested in the world around them. Now retired, they were teachers and have travelled extensively. They also speak very good, clear French and are prepared to be patient with people who are making an effort to communicate.

When we go out with English friends Ian is normally the quieter of the two of us, preferring to limit his discussions to technical bits and pieces. I have always enjoyed a more in depth debate about things and the ability to be able to do more than just talk, but to express my ideas, ask questions and discuss current issues, is really important to me. My aim for my French was to be able to speak it well enough that I was able also to express a little of my personality and humour. Up until now, although I have been able to get by in most everyday situations this aspect has alluded me and when we are out with French people Ian has taken the lead in conversation, with me chipping in, if and when I was able to follow what was being said.

My French had sort of reached a plateau over the past year or so and I hadn't felt I had made much improvement. Fortunately I found a new more advanced class and got back into the studying in September. I hadn't really noticed much progress for a while but last week I spent three days in Bordeaux and suddenly found that I didn't have to think all the time to communicate and that I could make jokes with the students in French that made them laugh (and not just because of my accent!) The meal last week marked a turning point as for the first time Ian was silenced and I was able to talk!

For anyone who thinks that you can come to France and 'be fluent in two years'.. it's taken me 6 years of lessons to get this far!

Sepia Saturday: Tom's war

 So, it's 100 years since the outbreak of the first world war. This is a picture of my grandfather Tom. I would guess from this he was around 13 years old. He was born in 1899, so this would perhaps have been taken in 1912 or 1913, just before the outbreak of the war.

 

Fortunately for us he would have been too young to be conscripted in the first or second wave but  he was not immune to the wave of jingoistic patriotism that made young boys feel they were cowardly if they did not do their bit. From what I remember of the story he was keen to join up as soon as he could but somehow chose or was guided in the direction of the Navy rather than the Army.. another stroke of good fortune as it turned out. Like a lot of young boys he lied on his application and at the age of 15 or 16 spent two years on board ship as a communications officer. I like to think that somehow it was realised that he was just a child dressed up in uniform and someone tried to make sure that he was assigned  to roles where he was less likely to get killed. That's what I would have done if I had been there.

 

I don't really know how much this experience affected him except that he always loved the sea and  eventually retired to live near Portsmouth. He came back from sea after the war, and although he had known my grandmother as a childhood friend they didn't marry for another 8 years.

 

 





New Year

I won't bore you with a list of reasons as to why I have not written anything since September as none of them are very interesting and it would just read like a list of excuses! The only comment I will make is that I am well, all is well and life continues. Progress has occurred on the house in that one room has been finished, but there is still much more to do.. the dog continues to be a work in progress, the cat is still alive and we are still enjoying things and so far have not regretted our decision.

We managed a week away in the Alps over the New Year but how times change, as we decided that we were not fit enough to ski and such a decision would invariably lead to injury and thus even more delay with the house. Instead, we went walking with the dog and had a go at snow shoeing, or raquettes as it is called here. That was all going well except for the fact that the very day we needed the snow shoes we didn't have them, and ended up trying to walk thorough snow thigh deep in places. One kilometre has never seemed so long as it did on that day!

I do love the mountains even though I find the air a bit 'brutal'. At the end of the 5 days we were just ready for another week to really enjoy our improved fitness.. except it was time to go home! Here are some pictures taken from the balcony of my brother's chalet.

watching the skiers come home

morning on the mountain

After the snow (for sepia friends)

Service will resume as soon as possible

I realise I have been very poor with my blog this year but I really want to do better in 2014. Here's hoping!

Snapshots: Sepia Saturday 193

This little book was amongst the collection from my grandmother. It only measures about 4 inches by 2 inches and the pictures inside are half that size. Some are missing and some have handwritten notes from my grandmother on them. They were taken in 1924 in Broadstairs, Ramsgate and Margate, on the Kent coast and are of my grandmother, her sister, their husbands and my grandmother's niece and nephew.

There's something about tiny photos that completely draws you in.. you have to look so closely at them to see what they are and then they are just like looking at something a long way away.

Joan 1924

 

 



This is my mother's cousin, Joan, staring out to sea, looking at something way off in the distance! The rather unnerving thing is that, in the photos she looks just like me as a child!



Lovely 1963

Too hot to make cheese

Summer seems to have been around for a while now. It's funny how you long for it all year and then when it arrives with a vengeance you soon get fed up with it. It has been the hottest and driest July for several years, with temperatures above 30 degrees Celsius on most days.

We have our village summer party next weekend. This is the poster.

 

I put it in in extra large size so you can see the menu. One of the items out of the 7 or so courses is the 'fromage'. This is usually purchased from the local diary who make the cheese from locally sourced milk..and do a very good special offers on their excess produce. However this year there are no deals to be had, as for the past month it has been too hot to make cheese and they are only able to make butter and dried milk products.

The dry weather has crisped up all the farmland nicely and so we are on an alert for fires. If they occur then there are a couple of fire planes that are stationed locally, that will pick up water from the lake to use on the fires. The lake starts pretty much at the end of our field and they have been out practicing. They fly pretty low over the field and it can be quite scary to watch at first as it looks like they are about to land!

Unfortunately they were on their way off by the time I got my camera out!



Anyway, the thing about summer is that eventually it comes to an end, and the cracks are beginning to appear. Such intense heat generates dramatic storms, and on Friday we were on an 'orange alert' for severe storms. That didn't stop us from going out to the local food producers evening. It is an outdoor event held in the summer months, where all the local producers set up stalls. You can choose from hot dishes, salads, grilled meat, deserts etc. all washed down with a bottle of local wine and enjoyed while listening to a local band. We got there early and as we were finishing our food and drink we saw this approaching from the West!

 

 

Fortunately it passed us over, but where it hit the hailstones were the size of golf balls and they destroyed much of the grape crop.

 

My Poem (aged 8 1/2)

At the weekend I was in the mood to sort through some of my mother's papers. She must have liked this poem that I wrote when I was at primary school as she kept it all these years.

I find it rather disturbing! (I'm only guessing about my age)

By The Sea


I was walking along the shore
It was really rather a bore
The I came across a cave
Marked on the walls was the devil's grave





I went in and saw
Mermaids dancing in fours
Then there was a big loud roar
And the mermaids fled from the shore

 



 

I ran and I ran
And behind me the devil sang
If I catch you alive
You'll die in a hive




Then up I awoke
And thought it a joke
And now I'm no more
On the sea shore

Sepia Saturday 187: The family bible

This is a photograph of some members of my grandmother's family. At first I thought I didn't know who they were and then I found this handwritten note from my mother in the photograph album.
(It's a small picture and not in good condition, so you can only really make out the shapes of the people)

"from left to right:

Nan Welch's mother Charlotte Turner, nee Sayer

Nan Welch's mother's sister Gertie

Nan Welch's mother's mother, Helen Thackery (maiden name)

Nan Welch's mother's father, Luke Sayers , compositor"

'Nan Welch' was what we always called my mother's mother, Dorothy Welch, nee Turner. Interestingly those were my mother's exact words in the description, so she must have been writing this down for us, as she would have referred to her as 'mum'.

I'm veering from the point of this post now, which is about the family bible, but that is because I have just read something on the back of this slip of paper that just has to be included here!

"Sister Gertie 'got into trouble' with a Canadian in the First World War who 'passed on something to her". She was taken in by my mother's mother until treated and cured in spite of scandal and opposition from my mother's father!" (I would guess these to be the words of my grandmother.)

Anyway, a fascinating if rather sad insight into the times. Syphilis, which I would guess this was, was rife amongst the soldiers returning from the front and as this was in days before the invention of penicillin I would imagine treatment was as unpleasant as the disease.

Now to the bible. None of my family have ever been particularly religious. That's not to say they were atheists, but they were not regular church goers. We had a bible when we were at school but it was not a regular feature of our lives. My mother grew up with her parents in a house in the suburbs of London. My grandparents bought it when it was first built. When my parents got married they bought the house from my grandparents and I grew up there as well.  Families stayed put in those times and so my mother knew the parents of my friends and some of their parents as well.

I can't remember the exact details as to how this came about, but my mother met the family of someone who lived round the corner from us. They were moving house that week. Somehow the conversation turned to families and names and addresses, and the woman my mother was talking to stopped dead in her tracks and said "We have your family bible". One of my grandmother's relatives had lived round the corner for many years. (I can't remember what one, maybe her mother?). When she died the house was sold  to this family and somehow the bible got left in it.  By the time the new owners moved in and found it they had no contact details for the seller. As it was a bible, no one wanted to throw it out, so the family held on to it for about 50 years, never knowing who the bible now belonged to or anything about the names of all the people in it. Had she not met my mother that week the bible would have probably been lost to the family forever.

My mother held onto the bible until she died last year. I couldn't bring it on the plane with me as it is enormous and so my brother has it at his house.  Writing this has made me think that I should do some investigating into the surviving relatives of other branches of my grandmother's family, as we have no children on our side to pass on the family bible. It was obviously meant to stay in the family.

Where have I been?

I've been away too long! Summer seems to have taken over and I haven't got round to posting recently. I have in fact just got back from a lovely few days visiting with a friend in Holland. She does not live there, but her family originate from those parts, and so it seemed a good place to catch up with her.

I took a short flight from the local airport to Rotterdam-The Hague. It took less time than it does to go to Bordeaux on the train. We met in a really nice hotel and in the evening walked a few hundred metres to a restaurant, where we had exactly what we had hoped for: a lovely meal of the sort that we could never cook for ourselves, with wonderful wine and good service. All this was because we hadn't seen each other for seven years and we had both lost our mothers in the last year, and so wanted to do something special.

How lovely it is to spend time with those friends that you don't get to see nearly often enough, but yet when you meet them again it is just as if you just left them. The truth is that with the great distance that separates us, who knows when we get to meet again and where that will be. Even with the best intentions, we are only likely to meet a few times more in our lifetimes, so we decided to enjoy it!

We spent a day exploring Rotterdam. The architecture was quite interesting; modern but in a way that seemed to blend in with the style of the port. We walked around the buildings, just looking. This is a picture of the 'red apple' building, or rather the reflection it made in the waters of the canal.

In the afternoon we took a boat trip to kinderdijk, to see some of the famous windmills. It was hot by then and so we were grateful of the chance to sit in the shade for the hour it took each way, even though the trip along the river wasn't very interesting!

We managed to get a quick look at the windmills along with all the other tourists and day trippers, before heading back to Rotterdam and on to Utrecht for the next couple of days. Utrecht was a complete contrast to Rotterdam; old buildings, lots of people, noise, shops and restaurants. We did some shopping, looked at the people, drank coffee, and generally caught up on seven years worth of talking! In the evening we hired a canal bike and explored the waterways that run through Utrecht. It was a warm evening and so the edges of the canal were packed with people eating and drinking and talking.

Birdlife

Summer marches on; although not as warmly or consistently as in previous years. Rather than the usual long days of hot sun, we have had one or two humid and sultry days to intersperse the rain and storms that seem set to continue until at least the end of the month.

It's good for the wildlife and nature. The grass grows as you watch it and the insects proliferate everywhere. The birds have plenty to eat! The redstarts have been back this year. Unable to get inside the house for the first time they have built nests under the terrace, on top of the pool filter, and in the garage on Ian's shelves. They seem to do quite well and the second batch are just learning to fly. One bird was a lot smaller than the rest and I saw it several times resting in the grass, or staring at me from the window ledge. It seemed quite fearless and I was sure it would be eaten by one of the cats or other hunters. But no.. it has persisted and is still around.

We have a pair of hoopoes that are feeding the garden. I'm not sure where the nest is, but they are amazing looking exotic things. Hoopoes appear each summer and return to warmer climates after they have nested.  When the dog is not in his outside house they take advantage of the structure to perch and rest. They also like to shelter from the rain.

Redstart and Hoopoe sheltering from rain



The 'hirondelles', which  are either swallows or swifts, also return this time of year. (In fact the French call the English second home owner 'les hirondelles' as they also  follow this migratory pattern!) They converge on the swimming pool first thing in the morning and in the evening to grab a drink and an insect or two. The other thing that happens this time of year is that the fields are cut for hay. This brings all the birds of prey out to 'shop', looking for some fast food. This one is a regular over our field this time of year. I think it is a kite.



Shopping





Holidays

Phew..just catching up after a week away. We spent a lovely week in Limoux, in the heart of the Cathar country. Here are a few pictures.

The citie- Carcasonne

Vineyards of the Languedoc-Roussillon

Ax-les-thermes

Snow on the Pyrenees (in May)

 

Rennes le chateau

 

Orchid

This year we've had a cold and slow start to spring together with a lot of rain. The orchids are later this year and for some reason are a darker purple colour, rather than the usual lighter pink.

Pyramid Orchid

Still rather magnificent even in purple.

Old school: Sepia Saturday 176

This is my grandmother's old school photograph. She was born at the turn of the century and I would guess this photo was taken between 1902-1904.

The board that the boy in the front row is holding say "Medburn St Infants- group 4" The school was in the London Borough of Camden, Somerstown area and was built between 1873 and 1877 and from 1877-1904 took children up until the age of 11.

I'm pretty sure that this is my grandmother as I remember that expression! It lasted a lifetime!

Dorothy Turner

Some of the others don't look that happy either!

 

This little girl looks quite frail

And this boy looks so serious





I guess he didn't want his photo taken!



 

A picture tells a thousand tales.. for other stories pop over to Sepia Saturday.

A smoking break: Sepia Saturday 175

We were brought up in a non-smoking household and warned against the dangers of smoking. My father smoked as a young man, as did everyone when he was younger. In fact it used to be part of the treatment for Tuberculosis as it made you cough! He stopped as soon as it became clear that smoking was bad for you.

My grandfather smoked a pipe (and the occasional cigar, and maybe even  smoked cigarettes in his youth.) My mother never smoked and as far as I knew neither did my grandmother; until I saw this photo!

It's not a brilliant photo but clearly shows my grandfather drinking a cup of tea and my grandmother lighting up a fag. They were on their way to the South Coast from London and taking a break. It was taken around 1952, and my mother was most likely the photographer. The car was their Ford Popular, which I remember. My grandfather treated it like a treasure; taking it out weekly to polish it, and never driving it more than 28 mph. It must have taken them a long time to get to Sussex!

The other thing I noticed is how smartly dressed they are. Nowadays it would be comfortable casual clothes for a journey!