Introducing the Past

Today I walked my son through Worthing town centre, along the sea front and to the end of the pier, which looked stunning in the sunlight.  I was explaining to him the long line of ancestors who came from Worthing and although a 9 month old is only going to babble and yawn at my incomprehensible ramblings it gave me a great sense of peace to introduce him to the past.  I supposed that many of them had walked along the same route, some pushing prams like me possibly.

img_0104img_0098img_0096

One or two people stand out not for being famous but for having exciting adventures or amazing things happen to them.

James Hutchinson had a boat building yard near the lifeboat house inWorthing and it is said that he built one of the largest yachts to grace Brighton beach for a Captain Thulleson in 1858.  The yacht was 32 feet on the keel and 10 feet on the beam.  She was said to be much admired by everyone who saw her.  How satisfying must that have been to have created something with your own hands that was so well thought of!

There was also Henry Finnis who owned the Running Horse pub – a merchant seaman for 50 years since the age of 12 and worked his way up to the rank of Captain.  In the course of his career he sailed around Cape Horn, to Eastern India and to Chile during the mid to late 19th century.  How exciting would it have been to have seen those places for the very first time arriving after an immense sea journey?  You don’t arrive anywhere these days without having a notion of what it’s going to be like.  For the last 30 years of his life he ran the pub and was one of the oldest licensed victuallers inWorthing.  He died aged 71 in 1911.

Advertisements

On the Move

As part of the Daily Post photo challenge entitled “On the Move”, I looked into the past.  I have been collating my family’s history and inherited the photographs from various people.  One common theme running through the photos is that we were a family of boat lovers – in fact my great great grandfather was a boat builder on the census lists.

The photos I have chosen show a different time when leisure time still had standards – even if you were on a boat!  The table-cloth and tea-pot came out; ladies wore pretty dresses and headscarves and you had a proper afternoon tea.  Very “Famous Five” with lashing of ginger pop for the children!

The first three are c. 1950’s with my grandmother looking the part of the “Famous Five” mother.

This lovely lady is my Aunt Win enjoying tea on the River Wey with her friend Polly c.1930.

Tea party on the Wey

Tea party on the Wey

And this is her husband showing us how to survive whilst “On the Move”…I think I prefer the ladies’ way of doing things!

Written for the Daily Post “On the Move” photo challenge. http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_photo_challenge/on-the-move/

Going Obsolete

I was going to write a blog about the technology side of things, but that seems to be the main theme already.  For my part I miss record players and tape recorders!

So how about the talent of building beautiful buildings going obsolete?  We have such beautiful churches, villages, thatched cottages, castles and country houses in the UK and yet when you pass a building site it’s normally a multi-storey car park or identikit houses on a soulless complex.  Do you think people will marvel over these in 200 years time?  Probably not because they will have blown down or been washed away within 50.

On that note here is a marvellous building which has lived through its fair share of war, fire, rebuilding etc so it must be worth investing in beautiful buildings!  St Paul’s Cathedral, London built by the fantastic Sir Christopher Wren who obviously agreed.  He rebuilt over 50 churches after the Great Fire of London in 1666, many of which you can still admire today.

Image

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/going-obsolete/

 

An attempt at conversation…after 40 years of marriage

Crow’s feet fanned silver eyes which registered disapproval and disappointment. Her mouth was ringed with lines which if they were spread into a smile would make her seem twenty years younger. She lifted a delicately polished finger nail up to her crow’s feet as if to wipe away a tear. The lace thinness on the back of her hands showed veins and arthritic joints keeping the diamond ring and golden wedding band which still shone after 40 years of wearing them.

Her hand trembled slightly and she self-consciously forced it back into her lap and clasped hands to stop them shaking. She stopped herself reaching out to pick up her cup and saucer. The trembling grating of bone china on bone china would wake him up.  He needed his afternoon nap.  She reached up to smooth her hair gently, barely even making contact. She knew it would be perfect. Her pearl necklace hung perfectly over her twinset which was in an inoffensive beige colour. Beige went with everything and it suited her to be non-descript – to blend in and be as unobtrusive as possible.

She sat upright in her armchair staring at her husband of 40 years. Her silver expression didn’t waiver. Her face was composed; her hand steadied and she grasped the porcelain saucer firmly. Not a tremor. She sipped on the weak infusion of tea with half a slice of lemon (pips removed). Her eyebrow raised into a perfect arch, as her husband snored in his armchair opposite.

He felt her gaze on him from under closed eyelids and could almost hear her eyebrow raise in that supercilious manner. He kept his eyes closed, shifted in his pretend sleep, attempted a snore, relaxed his neck so that his head lolled against the arm chair. He let his jaw fall slack. He just had to wait until she finished that damned ditch water that she called tea.

His cardigan was a focus of disappointment – always done up wrong, worn over the elbows and a day old handkerchief in the pocket. He preserved that look with care and recreated it every morning. He made sure that he blew his nose loudly into the hankie before putting in the pocket. His trousers bagged around his waist. He didn’t believe in belts. Perhaps he should invest in a nice pair of braces? Nice spotty ones. Her expression would be priceless. Socks and tartan slippers completed the image.

His silver hair was brushed back from his forehead with Brylcream – a style that he’d worn for 65 years. He couldn’t break that habit. But he did go unshaven now whenever possible – he couldn’t get his face to align with his razor. It seemed to sag in all sorts of places. His eyebrows straggled down to twist into his eyelashes and God knew what was going on with his nose and ear hair. The overall impression was of an unkempt, slightly dotty old man with a great head of hair.

He heard his wife silently put her cup and saucer down on the tray; equally silently stand up, pick up the tray and glide softly across the pile carpet. And still he faked sleep. She’d turned, as he’d known she would at the doorway, to check up on him. He froze: neck loose, jaw slack, a bit of drool making its’ way down his chin. He heard her eyebrow raise again as she carried the tray out.

One brown eye opened and checked the empty room. He didn’t move his body just incase he needed to fake sleep again. Also it took him a moment to get everything in gear to move. He peered around his nose and tried to straighten his neck. He’d got a crick in it from “sleeping” for so long. She obviously had something to discuss with him and he wasn’t sure how long he could keep her at bay. 77 minutes was his record.

She carried the tray into the kitchen; snapped on rubber gloves and washed up her cup and saucer, the teapot, tea strainer, milk jug, sugar bowl and sugar tongs; threw the doily into the bin and stored the tray in the slot specially designed for trays between the cupboard and the dishwasher. She snapped her Marigolds off and hung them over the tap. She needed to talk to him. She could wait until he stirred himself. His naps were getting longer and longer.

He yawned and stretched. He could hear her washing up the tea tray. He had a couple of minutes to get to the French windows and down into the garden. If he timed it right he could be in the potting shed by the time she hung her gloves up. He moved smoothly to the door. His wellies were waiting outside. In less that 7 seconds slippers were off, feet into wellies and the door shut behind him with a soft click. He kept to the hedge away from the kitchen and circled around the back of the greenhouse and into the potting shed.

My little Sunday afternoon idyll

Virginia Woolf Summer Events

Leonard and Virginia, as I Remember Them – Cecil Woolf
Friday 21st June 7:30pm – 8:30pm
Rodmell Village Hall

Cecil Woolf is the nephew of Leonard and Virginia Woolf. He followed in their footsteps by establishing his own independent literary publishing house in 1960. Among many other works, he publishes the Bloomsbury monographs, which celebrate the life, work and times of the members of the Bloomsbury Group. He was fourteen when his Aunt Virginia died, and had paid a number of visits to the Woolfs at Rodmell and in London. In this talk he will reveal fascinating insights into his time spent at Monk’s House, and his childhood recollections of Leonard and Virginia.
£10 – includes a glass of wine

Portrait of Virginia Woolf by George Charles B...

Portrait of Virginia Woolf by George Charles Beresford Deutsch: Die zwanzigjährige Virginia Woolf, fotografiert von George Charles Beresford (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

An Introduction to Virginia Woolf – Sarah M. Hall
Friday 5th July 7:30pm – 8:30pm
Rodmell Village Hall

Learn more about Rodmell’s most famous resident, with writer and editor Sarah M. Hall. Sarah is a prominent member of the Virginia Woolf Society of Great Britain, a regular contributor to the Virginia Woolf Bulletin, and author of Before Leonard: The Early Suitors of Virginia Woolf and The Bedside, Bathtub & Armchair Companion to Virginia Woolf and Bloomsbury. £10 – includes a glass of wine

To the River – Olivia Laing
Friday 19th July 7:30pm – 8:30pm
Rodmell Village Hall

Shortlisted for the Ondaatje Prize and the Dolman Travel Book of the Year, To the River is the story of the Ouse, the Sussex river in which Virginia Woolf drowned in 1941. One midsummer week, over sixty years after the author’s suicide, Olivia Laing walked Woolf’s river from source to sea, resulting in a passionate investigation into how history resides in a landscape – and how ghosts never quite leave the places they love. £10 – includes a glass of wine

Monk’s House Garden – Caroline Zoob
Friday 2nd August 7:30pm – 8:30pm
Rodmell Village Hall

Caroline Zoob, celebrated textile designer and embroiderer, and her husband Jonathan, were the last tenants at Monk’s House, where they spent 10 years caring for the beautiful garden. 2013 will see the publication of Caroline’s book about the remarkable garden that Leonard Woolf created, and in this talk she will reveal fascinating insights into how it has changed over the past 94 years. £10 – includes a glass of wine

A new VW play

“A Knife In The Whale”, a play by Liz Jardine-Smith and directed by Dominique Gerrard will be shown at the Compass Theatre in Ickenham (Uxbridge) on 31st May. “Virginia Woolf spent her life seeking to understand her own mind. This new play explores the links between her creativity and the mental illness she suffered throughout her life.” http://www.compasstheatre.co.uk/index.php/events/a-knife-in-the-whale/

Leonard Woolf Society

An inaugural meeting of the Leonard Woolf Society was held in London on 24th May 2012. The date 24th May was chosen because it was the day of departure of Leonard Woolf from Colombo in 1911. A Symposium on Leonard Woolf is being held on 24th May at Room G37 Senate House, Malet St., London WC1; there is also an entrance from Russell Square. Time is 2.30 pm to 6.00 pm. Registration fee of £10 for the Symposium includes LWS membership for 1 year.

Boating on the Broads

I have been looking through some old slides from my grandparents battered old leather suitcase and came across this fantastic picture of my grandmother circa 1958 or 59.  The box of slides was entitled “The Broads” where I know my Dad was taken on holiday and they went boating, sailing, fishing – anything to do with being on the water.  My grandfather’s passion was sailing and boats which has been passed on to my Dad and Uncle.  We also have distant ancestors who were boat builders too…it must be in the blood!  But back to the picture…

scan0002

I love the fact that she wore a rather natty headscarf to keep her hair tidy whilst out on the river.  Check out also the provisions lined up neatly inside the boat, with proper cutlery and a tea towel.  This was a lady who was prepared and had a family of hungry men to feed!  She also obviously didn’t let standards slip outside the home!

But she looked like she enjoyed herself!  Here she is with Dad…

scan0016 Wearing a practical boating outfit – a pleated skirt and cardi.  And with a radio on board by the looks of it.  It’s like some idyllic scene out of “Swallows and Amazons“, by Arthur Ransome which I would highly recommend reading!

scan0022

I wonder how much the Broads have changed more than half a century later?