A filthy weather day so a sorting day and among the treasures unearthed was this school photograph from 1957, first year at Truro County Grammar School. We all look delighted to be there and I do remember being very happy at that school.
This from Lord Byron came my way so I thought I would share it.
On this day in 2004 my lovely Dad died after seventeen days in the hospice, very special days that I was able to spend with him. I’ve posted about him before but never about the days before I was on the scene. The following photos are some of those he sent home to my Mum.
They had been on their way to South Africa but because of U-boat activity, were re-routed to Nova Scotia. By January 1942 they had arrived in South Africa.
Makoalis, Basutoland January 1942
The last one is of Dad with one of his beloved Burmese cats, a favourite of mine.
We decided that our walk today need to be by the sea but when we got there the sun had gone in, the wind was wild and cold and damp, the sea was grey and we didn’t stay long.
Along the path to the beach is a very pleasing timeline of protest. Today I give you the first few….
I subscribe to Poem-a-Day and today this beautiful lullaby arrived in my inbox. Many of the poems that arrive are not in the public domain and are still in copyright so I can’t share them with you but this one is available so here you are. I think it’s very lovely.
A Mojave Lullaby by Bertrand N. O. Walker
Sleep, my little man-child, Dream-time to you has come.In the closely matted branches Of the mesquite tree, The mother-bird has nestled Her little ones; see From the ghost-hills of your fathers, Purpling shadows eastward crawl, While beyond the western sky-tints pale As twilight spreads its pall.
The eastern hills are lighted, See their sharp peaks burn and glow, With the colors the Great Sky-Chief Gave your father for his bow. Hush my man-child; be not frighted, ‘Tis the father’s step draws nigh. O’er the trail along the river, Where the arrow-weeds reach high Above his dark head, see He parts them with his strong hands, As he steps forth into view. He is coming home to mother, Home to mother and to you.
Sleep my little man-child, Daylight has gone. There’s no twitter in the branches, Dream-time has come.
This poem is in the public domain. Published in Poem-a-Day on November 15, 2020, by the Academy of American Poets.
On this day in 1939, my Mum and Dad were married.They were to have honeymooned in Paris but given that WWII broke out on September 3rd they had a weekend in Blackpool instead before my Dad went off to the army for five years.
My Mum at her wedding in 1939
My Dad retired early to write and dedicated his first novel to my Mum ( using a nom de plume as advised by the publishers as it was thought that women read more historical romantic fiction and that they like to read books written by women!) The novel is set in Cornwall in the late 1800’s and its background is the tin mining industry that was so important to the Cornish.
Dad’s first novel, published in the US and the UK by Weidenfeld and Nicholson, in paperback by Sphere
Their Golden wedding in 1989 was a great big family reunion in Cornwall as by then my older brother and his wife and two children were living in Munich, Germany, my younger brother and his wife were in Atlanta, Georgia and my sister and her growing family were in Phoenix, Arizona and I was in Yorkshire with my family. The advance for Ellen Bray paid for everyone to come to the two week long party!
Today marks the anniversary of the Great 1913 Women’s Pilgrimage starting in the South West where women walked from Land’s End to Hyde Park demanding their right to vote and to be acknowledged as citizens.
Dreadnought began with this inspirational story of courage and rage, and we marked the centenary of the pilgrimage by touring a new play Oxygen in 2013 to the places the women had stopped and rallied one hundred years earlier. My choir leader, Claire Ingleheart wrote the music for the play, “Oxygen” and many of the choir turned up to sing at Land’s End prior to walking the first few miles of the walk together.
My Suffragette garden has the right colours at the right moment! My regular readers will know that my Great Granny, Mary Wiseman, was a Suffragette, was force fed in Holloway Prison and received the portcullis brooch from Mrs Pankhurst for her struggles. I am very proud of her, hence my garden and my tattoo.
Here’s a recording of The Ingleheart Singers singing Oxygen in Truro Cathedral. I’m not amongst them as I was recovering from a replacement hip op but I was able to record it for you.
The bees are busy, we are glad to see. This one was moving around all the Lavender pots.
Our eldest was due to come from Exeter for a couple of hours this afternoon to fix my Beetle. In exchange I made her a couple of fabric masks. I had not anticipated how hard it would be to see her but not be allowed to hug.
My spirits were lifted by a wonderful zoom session this evening, Greenham Women singing songs of the time, all led by my lovely choir leader, Claire. In between singing the songs, people shared their stories of being at the various gates, all given colours and each with a very distinct personality. A couple of the participants had been there with their Mums as very young children. One Mum and daughter were there together from their different parts of the UK; participants came from allover the country and were really inspiring. It was a brilliant session.
It’s International Nurses’ Day so let’s hear it for Nurses all over the world who do such a remarkable job day after day in ordinary times as well as in extraordinary times.
Last night I sewed the buttons onto my last four scrub caps which will be collected by Cornwall Scrubs for distribution soon. A friend posted two caps for me the other day and yesterday I received a message of thanks from a Nurse on ICU in Doncaster whose Mum has been a very dear friend of mine for many, many years.
Yesterday I posted a photograph of my lovely Mum and one of my cousins who lives in Australia wrote a comment about how alike our Mum and her Dad were at similar ages. I think they looked alike from being very young as the following old photo, taken in about 1920, shows.
Another busy day starting with having a stall at the Redruth Re-use, Re-cycle Market which was fun and I sold several pieces which was pleasing. The boots are a tiny version of the Sally-boots I knit for all new babies, knitted with fine golden yarn on very thin needles.
My sign on purple, white and green glass and a pair of golden boots
In the afternoon I attended a fascinating conference “Cornwall – Herstory”, run by the Institute of Cornish Studies. My choir were singing at the end of the conference which went down very well. I loved this particular slide when the speaker was telling us of the part Cornish women played in the abolishment of slavery while also explaining how some Cornish women benefitted from sad slavery – very interesting.
The campus at Tremough in Penryn is enormous and set on what was farmland. From the car park down to the lecture theatre students (and I) walked down this lovely lane which was transformed into a stream by the downpour that was happening as I splashed my way back after the conference.
The Rose hips were in someone’s garden in Truro or I might have picked them to make syrup.
Before the show, Estha’s Story, at Heartlands this evening, there was singing and cake in the Diaspora garden. The cakes were magnificent! All made by Little Crumbs and decorated with edible flowers.
The show was amazing! Yskynna, the aerial dance company and the singers combined to tell the story of a Cornish Bal maiden and the audience loved it. Click on any photo in the gallery for a closer look.