Things To Do In A Winter's Day

I really enjoy winter days like today. It's rather grey and miserable, the once pristine snow is now slushy and dirty looking and it's the perfect day for staying inside and doing interesting things. All three of the things are connected with my daughter-in-law Cesca in one way or another:) In the autumn she asked me if I would do this cross stitch sampler for her and so here it is well on the way. I'm enjoying stitching it as it is uses all my favourite colours and is depicting my favourite season.

In between stitching I'm re-reading some books by George Ewart Evans who wrote several books about the area of Suffolk where Cesca comes from. They are based on the many oral history recordings he made of local people. The books were originally published in the 1950s so many of the old people were born in and clearly remembered rural life in the 19th century. I've almost finished 'Ask the Fellows Who Cut the Hay' and shall be moving on to ' The Crooked Scythe' shortly. I've also just acquired 'The Horse in the Furrow' which is saving the best until last as far as I'm concerned as I have a real love of the big working horses and the old horsemen who spent their days ploughing and reaping and sowing. I'm hoping to do a post on the subject soon if I can find photographs to use whose copyright owners don't wish to charge me £10 for using them rather than just settling for an ackowledgement!! I do have a particular person in mind here of course.

Last but by no means least is some family history research again in Suffolk. Cesca's paternal ancestors include some of the old Suffolk horsemen and also a newly discovered shepherd. Soon I shall have to abandon the computer and spend some time in Ipswich looking at Parish Registers. There's only so much that you can do online then you need to go back to the old-fashioned way of researching so that you can check and cross check the information you have. I have to say that I'm happy to have any excuse to spend time in Suffolk - and also Essex now that I've found the shepherd who came from St Osyth. So which of my possible pastimes shall I follow now? The family history trail I think:)

Winter Wonderland

We finally had some proper snow overnight on Sunday so I took my camera with me when B Baggins and I went out this morning. He seemed to be determined to appear in as many of the photos as he could, this one was supposed to be just the path by the river.

Here he is again! This little 18th century bridge crosses Needham's Dike just above the point where it joins Oldhay Brook. In the past there was a corn mill nearby and later a scythe works.

A handsome blackbird posed very nicely for me - I hope he found some breakfast, these are hard conditions for birds.

This shows how deep the snow was in Dam Field, B Baggins has not got a case of canine measles! It was snowing quite hard while we were out. As you can probably guess this was originally the site of the dam for the corn mill.

I really like this photo of the dead grass stems covered in snow, they look so graceful and ethereal.It looks better if you click and enlarge it.

I'm rather taken with this photo as well, last year's alder cones and the new catkins just waiting for the warmth of Spring. It doesn't really show up in the photo but there is a real purplish tinge to the catkins.

You can see this better if you enlarge it too, it's the late 18th century road bridge leading from Totley to Dore and the river forms the parish boundary. There was a ford here before the bridge was built.

The warm brown of leaf buds on the oak tress in the field were surprisingly obvious. There is a line of them crossing the field which mark the edge of the old dam.

Over the stile and into the lane, this is the road carried by the bridge in the earlier photo.

A lovely splash of colour where the gorse is still flowering in spite of the cold and snow.

This is what my DH terms an 'atmospheric' photo and will definitely need enlarging:) It was actually very misty and also still snowing but I like the cosiness of the farmhouse tucked into the hollow and further up the hill is Hollin House which will take some getting out of today as it's at the bottom of a steep winding drive leading off an equally steep winding lane on the other side of the hill. I've known the people who live there for well over 30 years as their daughter and my elder son were in the same class at primary school and were good friends. That's today's snowy walk, I suspect that by tomorrow it will be much less pristine unless we get another dollop tonight.

A Frosty Day

Grass afield wears silver thatch;
Palings all are edged with rime;
Frost flowers pattern round the latch;
Cloud nor breeze dissolve the clime:

When the waves are solid floor,
And the clods are iron bound,
And the boughs are crystall'd hoar,
And the red leaf nailed aground.

When the fieldfare's flight is slow,
And a rosy vapour rim,
Now the sun is small and low,
Belts along the region dim.

When the ice-crack flies and flaws,
Shore to shore, with thunder shock,
Deeper than the evening daws,
Clearer than the village clock.

 When the rusty blackbird strips,
 Bunch by bunch, the coral thorn ;
 And the pale day-crescent dips,
 New to heaven, a slender horn.

 I thought this poem by Lord de Tabley (1835-1895) was quite appropriate for our current weather conditions:). We only have a light covering of snow here at the moment but apparently there's a good deal more to come this afternoon. The painting of the blackbird is by a Scottish artist called Archibald Thorburn(1860-1935). I really like his paintings of wildlife so you may be seeing more of them in the future.

My Son's Blog

My son has asked me to give his blog a plug to try and attract a little more traffic to it:) I'm sure many readers of my blog will be aware that Steve and Hannah and their two girls live in South Africa where they work at Africa School of Missions. Both Steve and Hannah write on the blog and the subject matter is pretty varied. Steve's latest effort is about a woodland walk where he and the girls were trying to identify various types of fungus - there are some where a bit of expert help is needed.

Naturally enough there is quite a bit about Steve and Hannah's work in the local African community including Backdoor PreSchool where the solitary blond among the children is my granddaughter Lucy:)

There are pieces about visits to places such as Moholoholo Rehabilitation Centre, Kruger National Park and the Drakensburg Mountains

Some of the posts are about domestic life though not perhaps as most of us know it - at least I personally don't often get spitting cobras in my washing machine!

They travel to places other than Africa during the course of their work too, this photo was taken in the Czech Republic during a trip to Eastern Europe last summer. Do go and take a look,I'm sure you'll find it interesting.

Happy New Year!

Well, here we are in 2013 with a whole twelve months full of possibilities ahead of us. I'm planning to blog more regularly again this year so I'm starting as I mean to carry on:) Let's hope that this year holds lots of good things for all of us. A very Happy New Year to all of you!

Two Little Angels

I hope everyone had as good a Christmas as we did. These are just a few photos from Christmas Eve - not great as there were a lot of people around in a small space and it was a case of snapping what I could. A local farm does a Nativity play which the children take part in during the few days leading up to Christmas so I booked tickets for Steve, Hannah, Juliette, myself and the two girls. It was a surprise for Kaitlyn and Lucy as they had no idea where we were going when we set out. First of all the children are dressed up so that they can take part in the play. Kaitlyn and Lucy both chose to be angels - along with pretty much all the other children:)

The nice thing was that there were real animals - an 'ox' in a stall, real lambs for the shepherds and a real donkey for Mary to travel to Bethlehem on.

Afterwards the children were all able to ride on the donkey if they wanted to which Lucy definitely did!

Holding one of the lambs was fun too though the lamb seems to be more interested in Aunty Juliette's hair than anything else.

Finally came a visit to Father Christmas - Kaitlyn seems very happy with this part:) Lucy is more interested in what the parcel might contain! Grown ups weren't left out - there was a glass of mulled wine and a mince pie for us. It made a great start to the holiday.

Merry Christmas!

Here we are again with my traditional Christmas Eve post:)

The Night Before Christmas was always my children's bedtime story on Christmas Eve.
So for all of us who still feel the magic of this night......

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads;
And mamma in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled down for a long winter's nap,
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer,
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.




More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
"Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! on Cupid! on, Donder and Blitzen!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,
So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.

As I drew in my hand, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.
He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.
His eyes -- how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow;
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath;
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook, when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night."




May I wish all of you a very Merry Christmas!

Happy Winter Solstice!

"

So the shortest day came, and the year died,
And everywhere down the centuries of the snow-white world
Came people singing, dancing,
To drive the dark away.
They lighted candles in the winter trees;
They hung their homes with evergreen;
They burned beseeching fires all night long
To keep the year alive,
And when the new year's sunshine blazed awake
They shouted, revelling.
Through all the frosty ages you can hear them
Echoing behind us - Listen!!
All the long echoes sing the same delight,
This shortest day,
As promise wakens in the sleeping land:
They carol, feast, give thanks,
And dearly love their friends,
And hope for peace.
And so do we, here, now,
This year and every year.
Welcome Yule!!"

- Susan Cooper, The Shortest Day

These are still the most perfect words for the celebration of Winter Solstice that I've ever found so here they are again:) I have been so busy recently with preparations for the winter festival and life in general that I'm afraid that the blog has taken a back seat. My son and his family are over from South Africa and for the first time in three years they will be spending the holiday season with us so it's a very special one for us. Hopefully in January I shall have more time and will be back to posting regularly. Meanwhile I wish you all a very Happy Winter Solstice!

Remembrance Day

At 11am on the 11th of November each year our busy lives stop for a brief moment as we remember all those who have given their lives in the service of their country. As always I remember my Great Uncle Harry who died in WW1 and my husband's Uncle Harold who died in the Far East in WW2. This year though I want especially to remember Tom Fisher, a young local man who died at Cambrai in WW1. He was from a farming family and I pass the farm where he was born every morning when I walk my dog. He left our little local school at the age of 14 and began his working life as a farm labourer. When we wrote our book about the men named on Totley War Memorial we were unable to trace any living members of his family and we have no photograph of him. We were fortunate though to discover a memoir written in the 1980s by an old man who remembered Tom and it gives probably a better 'picture' than any photograph. This is what Archie Thomas (1903-1991) wrote:

 “In the bottom cottage in the 3 on Baslow Road lived Mrs Fisher. To my brother and I there was no-one like her in the world, she had 3 sons at home and the youngest daughter Jess; 3 other daughters being out in service. Jess later became Mrs Joshua Tyzack - an affair of which I probably have more knowledge than any other living person! I loved the youngest son, Tom, and one of my earliest recollections of him (when I was about 3 years old) is of him taking me by the hand one dark winter’s evening and going to Ash Cottage where he milked a couple of cows for an elderly Mr and Mrs Hattersley.. When he took the milk to the house he was given about a half-gallon can of morning milk for his mother. I used to go with him when he was mowing and sit on his knees on the machine for hours at a time, while he mowed the land where Main Avenue, Rowan Tree Dell and all that property now stands.” 

 To me this conjures up a picture of a kind, gentle young countryman who was liked by all who knew him. Tom Fisher is my favourite of all the soldiers we researched and even though he has no known family to remember him he will not be forgotten. Tom's body was never found and he is one of over 7000 names of men with no known graves on the Cambrai Memorial at Louverval.

             When you go home, tell them of us and say,
             For their tomorrow, we gave our today.

Happy Samhain!

I don't have time to write a new post so this is a repeat from 2009:)

 Sunset today will mark the beginning of Samhain, the last of the three Celtic harvest festivals. The word Samhain means 'summer's end' and from this point we are in the dark time of the year and the days get shorter and the nights get longer as we move towards the Winter Solstice. The Celtic people measured the days from one sunset to the next so Samhain will end at sunset tomorrow.



This is also the time when we remember our ancestors who have passed on to the Summerlands. I haven't yet set out the candles that I will light this evening but this is one from a previous year. It is surrounded with the herb rosemary for remembrance and tonight there will be individual candles for my parents and grandparents and a single large one for all the many past generations stretching back into the mists of time. I wish both them and you a Happy and Blessed Samhain.

St Crispin's Day

" This day is call'd the feast of Crispian.
 He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,
 Will stand a tip-toe when this day is nam'd,
 And rouse him at the name of Crispian.
 He that shall live this day, and see old age,
 Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours,
 And say 'To-morrow is Saint Crispian.'
 Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars,
 And say 'These wounds I had on Crispian's day.'
 Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot,
 But he'll remember, with advantages,
 What feats he did that day. Then shall our names,
 Familiar in his mouth as household words- Harry the King, Bedford and Exeter,
 Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester-
 Be in their flowing cups freshly rememb'red.
 This story shall the good man teach his son;
 And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by,
 From this day to the ending of the world,
 But we in it shall be remembered-
 We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
 For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
 Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile,
 This day shall gentle his condition;
 And gentlemen in England now-a-bed
 Shall think themselves accurs'd they were not here,
 And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
 That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day."

These stirring words were spoken by King Henry V as he rallied his troops before the Battle of Agincourt and come from Shakespeare's play 'Henry V'. Today is indeed the feast of Crispian - and October 25th is the anniversary of the Battle of Agincourt. On this day in 1415 King Henry V led his men to victory over a French army who greatly outnumbered them. When I say he led them I mean that quite literally - he fought alongside his soldiers on foot as well as on horseback.

This victory was due largely to the English longbowmen whose reputation was fearsome in Medieval Europe. The archers began their training at the age of 7 and could fire their arrows at the rate of 12 -15 per minute. In 1252 a law was passed requiring every Englishman between the ages of 15 and 60 to equip themselves with a bow and arrows. In 1363 a further law was passed requiring all men to practice their archery on Sundays and holidays and failure to do so carried heavy penalties. There are many old churches where there are marks on the outer walls left by the constant action of the archers sharpening their arrows. Henry's archers were handpicked from the best archers in England and they cut down the French cavalry with a constant hail of arrows. Most of the archers who fought at Agincourt came from Cheshire and many of them from the area where my ancestors lived.Cheshire archers had the reputation of being the best of the best. There are forty seven archers named Wright on the muster rolls for Agincourt and I often wonder whether one or more of them were among my ancestors:)

I shall be remembering those Cheshire bowmen tonight as I watch Kenneth Branagh's wonderful performance as the king in the film 'Henry V'.

A Walk on the Moors

On a beautiful autumn afternoon my friend P and I took B Baggins and his friend Bertie up on Big Moor for a short walk. The colours on the moors at this time of the year are really beautiful - the bracken is a patchwork of greens and browns and the grasses have turned to gold. Moorland is a stark kind of landscape but each season brings its own beauty and autumn is my favourite - it starts in late August with the rich purple of the heather and then gains a wonderful golden glow which is accentuated in the sunlight of an October afternoon.

The moors around here are full of stone circles and burial cairns though if you are looking for a Stonehenge or Avebury you will be sadly disappointed. You will need to click on the photo to see the circle of stones surrounding a larger central stone. The circle dates back to the Bronze Age and is around 4000 years old. Quite close by are traces of pre-historic field systems and a Bronze Age settlement. I suspect that there is a lot more of each stone below ground as over the centuries the peat layers will have built up and the ground level will be a good deal higher now than it was in 2000BC. This is purely a personal opinion not based on any archaeological knowledge:)

This is the centre stone and if you look carefully you will see that people still leave offerings here - mostly coins but there are other things too.

While P and I were looking at the stone circle other members of the party were having a good time too! This is mostly Bertie but B Baggins is in there too:) Can you spot him?

B Baggins is a bit more visible here, at this time of year it's often hard to spot him as he blends in with the colours of the fallen leaves and brown grasses.

This is a proper path across the moor and as you can see it's pretty wet and muddy, it was a good deal worse than this in places too. Once you get onto the small tracks the open moorland can get very boggy indeed - peat bogs can be large and deep and dangerous.

About half way along the path is this small reservoir, a stream connects it to a much larger reservoir further up - as this was only a short walk (about an hour and a half) we turned off just before reaching the second one. I love the reflection of the trees in the water here.

We could hear more than one stag roaring as we walked and eventually we spotted this handsome chap standing on the skyline - he was a long way off so even with an 18x zoom I couldn't do any better than this.

Further along we spotted another stag with several hinds, they weren't quite as far away but still too far for a decent photo. In different territory I'd have tried to get closer but it was so wet and boggy here that discretion seemed to be the better part of valour! Clicking on the last two photos will make them a bit clearer.

Just before we reached the road again we passed this guide stoop - these date back usually to the 1700s and were put there to help travellers to find their way over lonely and difficult terrain before the turnpike roads existed. These high moorland routes were used regularly by pedlars,jaggers,salters and tinkers. Jaggers were men who led teams of packhorses carrying all kinds of goods, the salters transported salt from the salt mines in Cheshire over wide areas of the north of England. Mostly the routes were used between May and October, during the winter months the harsh moorland conditions made the journey extremely dangerous. Many lives were lost when travellers lost their way in snowstorms or in the thick mists which can descend suddenly out of nowhere. No mists or snowstorms yesterday though so we made ir safely home again:)