Last night I finished reading Chapter 7 of Barbara W Tuchman’s “The Proud Tower”, being a collection of articles on the build-up to the First World War. This is ‘Transfer of Power – England: 1902-11. It deals with the beginnings of the rise of Socialism and the weakening of the dominance of the aristocratic landed gentry and hereditary peers.
On a dank-dismal day Danni and Ella dropped in with a parcel shortly before Jackie and I drove to Walkford to meet her sisters and their husbands for the annual wreath-laying on their mother’s burial plot in the Woodland Burial Ground.
Our great-niece protested that she wanted to come indoors, but settled soon enough for
a tour round the garden involving chucking stones into the Waterboy’s shell pool. We left her with her mother as we drove off.
As always, we tramped along soggy paths to the site, where Shelly placed the wreath and we all paid our respects. Jackie photographed the wreath
and the husbands, and I focussed on the wives.
We had begun with coffee and cake at The Walkford and returned after the event for lunch.
The Assistant Photographer photographed the rest of us and I photographed
my brunch and her Hunter’s chicken meal. Our drinks were Abbot’s Ale and Amstel respectively.
The 10 day travel challenge required no explanation of the chosen pictures. Now is the time to elaborate a bit.
Day 1 featured a splendid toyshop in, I believe, Monpazier, one of southwest France’s Bastide towns, which I visited with friends Maggie and Mike in September 2003. More about such towns, with photographs, appears in https://derrickjknight.com/2018/01/13/more-bastides/
The woman in the red cardigan clutching her handbag appeared on Day 2. In September 1982 she paddled in the seawater on Bréhec beach in Brittany during a holiday Jessica, Sam, Louisa, and I took with friends Ann and Don. More can be see here: https://derrickjknight.com/2016/09/26/going-for-a-paddle-2/
On Day 3, Jessica stands on Place Fell in Cumbria on 18th August 1992. More images of this trip are found in https://derrickjknight.com/2017/03/12/i-felt-more-than-somewhat-queasy/ with evidence of the reason for my title.
The sunset appearing on Day 4 lit the Atlantic Ocean off Barbados in March 2004 while Sam was completing his epic row. A group of us were following Kilcullen, a support boat for the Ocean Rowing Society’s annual race, first featured in https://derrickjknight.com/2016/02/22/atlantic-sunset/
Further images from that trip and something about the race appear in https://derrickjknight.com/2015/12/02/the-young-gun-and-the-old-grey-wolf/
While on holiday at Instow in Devon in the summer of 1985 we took https://derrickjknight.com/2016/09/04/a-day-trip-to-mousehole/ where the photograph appearing on Day 5 was produced. Sam leads Louisa and Jessica up stone wall steps.
Day 6 features a disused slate mine outside Cerrigydrudion in North Wales where Matthew, Becky, Jessica, Sam, Louisa and I stayed in the summer of 1983. There is more on https://derrickjknight.com/2016/05/21/before-gaeddren/
My uncertainty about Monpazier mentioned at Day 1 shows that my knowledge about where I’ve been can become a bit hazy when I haven’t kept notes. My Day 7 picture is a case in point. I needed an alert reader to point out that this was my first visit to Mousehole, made on honeymoon with Vivien in March 1963. The significance of this photograph is explained in https://derrickjknight.com/2014/05/02/not-lost-after-all/
Day 8 features Port St Charles, Barbados, in March 2004, where Sam is mooring his boat, Pacific Pete. In the background can be seen building work. This is the relevant original post: https://derrickjknight.com/2016/01/22/port-st-charles/
During the years I travelled to London to visit my friend Norman I regularly walked across Westminster Bridge where, in July 2013, I was approached by the five women who were on holiday at Day 9. The encounter, and others, is described in https://derrickjknight.com/2013/07/17/that-was-worth-fighting-for/
I am aware that this series may present some confusion to more recent readers who may not have read https://derrickjknight.com/2014/01/05/my-branch-of-the-family-tree/
This afternoon we took a crisp sunshine forest drive.
Jackie waited in Brownhills car park while I wandered along the
largely waterlogged roadside verges for a while.
This was a day for family walks. While certain spots were decidedly overcrowded, lesser known areas like Bisterne Close, where Jackie parked the Modus, were safe enough.
I trampled on the waterbeds that were the soggy autumn leaves.
As always, some trees were lichen laden; others stretched gnarled limbs to the skies; many, broken, lay where they fell – among them
basking ponies slumbered or chomped on holly leaves.
One fallen giant gathering foliage was decidedly waterlogged.
Many roadsides, like this one at South Gorley, were more like lakesides.
Nearby, I was soon surrounded by silently demanding donkeys desiring to supplement their diets with anything I might have brought them.
One solitary Gloucester Old Spot sploshed, salivating over squishy mast, at the bottom of Gorley Hill, well irrigated by a Winterbourne stream running down it.
Throwing long shadows, cattle grazed on the slopes above,
while hazy sun picked out inquisitive field horses and slender willow sprays.
On our return along Hordle Lane lingering sunset illuminated lines of leafless oaks.
This evening we dined on crisp oven fish and chips, green peas, sage cornichons, and pale ochre pickled onions, with which we both drank white Cotes de Gascoigne 2019.
This afternoon we joined Elizabeth and Danni at Woodpeckers for a visit to Mum. Pre-Christmas limited four-fold family visits have been arranged by Colten Care.
On arrival we were issued with the usual forms explaining who we are with our temperature recorded. We were also required to sanitise our hands and don face masks, gloves, and aprons. Our own masks, etc. had to be changed for those available at reception. On departure the supplied PPE were disposed of in a bin provided.
Chairs were spread out in the allocated room, ensuring that we kept the correct distances. Teas, coffee, sausage rolls, mince pies, and Christmas cake were brought in for us.
The visit was timed for an hour, but we were given an extra ten minutes.
Jackie photographed the rest of us. The second picture shows Mum nursing our present.
Danni added by e-mail the Assistant Photographer and me, and Mum. The second photograph demonstrates the problem with social distancing which made it difficult for her to see us clearly. In the circumstances this could not be avoided.
Afterwards my Chauffeuse drove me through driving rain to catch the sunset at Barton.
For a while I stayed in the car before battling with gusting winds when the rain ceased.
Jackie captured me near the clifftop where the wind was throwing me about a bit. I was somewhat further from the edge than this perspective suggests, and refrained from picturing the strip just in front of me which was rent by a deep cleft suggesting it will be the next stretch to fall. I just couldn’t be stable enough to risk it;
neither could I get near enough to focus on the very choppy waves,
so I settled for some longer distance sunset shots.
As I walked back to the car a woman came into view with three small children and a dog excitedly running towards her. The pooch, as they do, raced towards the cleft. I called to the woman and warned her. She gathered up her brood and led them further inland.
Yesterday I pictured Jackie’s beef and mushroom pie with unbroken crust.
Today we enjoyed a second helping complete with Yorkshire pudding, roast potatoes, Brussels sprouts, cauliflower, carrots, and gravy, with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I finished the Malbec.
I was nominated by my friend Judy Dykstra-Brown to post one favourite travel picture a day for ten days without explanation, then to nominate someone else to participate. That’s 10 days, 10 travel pictures, and 10 nominations. Now I nominate Linda at https://lindaleinen.com. Please link to me so I know you have participated. If you are not interested, no problem. Nowhere in the rules does it say you can’t guess where the photo was taken and that I can’t agree if you are right. Derrick
On a very damp and dull afternoon we drove to Fagan’s in New Milton for Jackie to buy me a Christmas present.
Later, when twilight was approaching we visited Milford on Sea to see the decorated village green.
The blustery weather was already wreaking a certain amount of havoc on the displays. I needed to tie back the laces holding the snow onto the first of the litter bins and couldn’t straighten the fallen figure on the second.
As Pam Wright is attributed for the work portrayed in the second gallery, each of the individual Christmas trees carries a similar notice telling us whose project it is.
All the dedicated benches bear decorations. One notice made me smile.
The Nativity scene is very artistic. A Father Christmas figure has fallen into Jesus’s crib.
Others adorn a row of posts lining the car park.
Elizabeth came to dinner which consisted of Jackie’s well-filled beef and mushroom pie; crisp roast potatoes; crunchy carrots and cauliflower; firm Brussels sprouts, and meaty gravy. This was followed by Sicilian lemon tart. The Culinary Queen drank Hoegaarden while my sister and I drank more of the Malbec poured from another bottle.
I was nominated by my friend Judy Dykstra-Brown to post one favourite travel picture a day for ten days without explanation, then to nominate someone else to participate. That’s 10 days, 10 travel pictures, and 10 nominations. Now I nominate Geoff at TanGental. Please link to me so I know you have participated. If you are not interested, no problem. Nowhere in the rules does it say you can’t guess where the photo was taken and that I can’t agree if you are right. Derrick
During the first decade of this millennium, when I was more ambulant, I created a Streets of London series regularly scanned for these posts. This one contains a Banksy wall: https://derrickjknight.com/2018/11/20/mostly-around-notting-hill/
Yesterday I discovered this image of Lancaster Road W11 filed with the Brompton Cemetery pictures. By coincidence it features more wall art.
I spent an enjoyable hour this morning watching a phenomenal performance by my Australian granddaughter Orlaith’s dance group streamed from a local school.
The deer herd occupied Burley Manor lawn when we passed on our drive this afternoon.
Along Forest Road I squelched across soggy sward to photograph ponies and
reflections in waterlogged land.
On our way home we diverted to Barton on Sea in case there would be anything to see.
There certainly was. When a paraglider, dancing in the sunset thermals, swooped and dipped below the cliff edge on which his friend stood watching I could scarcely contain myself. I chatted with the watcher who told me that both young men were chuffed at what I was doing. “That makes three of us,” I replied. “You don’t often get a subject like this”. I returned to the car and handed over two of my blog cards, saying the recipients were welcome to take any that they wanted from the site. (If either of you are reading this and would like an A3 print or two get in touch and I would be happy to give them to you)
This evening we dined on Jackie’s fiery pasta arrabbiata and fava beans with which she drank Hoegaarden and I finished the Malbec.
I was nominated by my friend Judy Dykstra-Brown to post one favourite travel picture a day for ten days without explanation, then to nominate someone else to participate. That’s 10 days, 10 travel pictures, and 10 nominations. Now I nominate Anna of https://flutterandhum.wordpress.com . Please link to me so I know you have participated. I understand you can’t take it up immediately. Nowhere in the rules does it say you can’t guess where the photo was taken and that I can’t agree if you are right. Derrick
Last night I finished reading ‘Neroism is in the Air’ – Germany: 1890-1914, being chapter 6 of ‘The Proud Tower’, Barbara W. Tuchman’s excellent analysis of the build up to WWI.
Writing of music, philosophy, theatre and literature, the author focusses on the country’s competitive culture. She begins with the strident strains of Richard Strauss reflecting Nietzsche’s concept of ‘rule by the best’ and the Kaiser’s arrogant military ambitions, continuing to Wilde’s Salome and other bloodthirsty tragedies which captured the soul of much of the nation, uncannily presaging the current conflicts in her own country. Gentler voices are drowned by the violence of others. Tuchman does not neglect the considerable contribution of Jewish people to all aspects of life, despite the rising anti-Semitism.
Today was one to stay inside and keep dry. I therefore scanned another batch of colour slides made in May 2008 and February 2009.
All black and white images in this post have been converted.
The body of Emmeline Pankhurst lies here. Her memorial has been bound with the suffragette colours.
‘Emmeline Goulden was born on 14 July 1858 in Manchester into a family with a tradition of radical politics. In 1879, she married Richard Pankhurst, a lawyer and supporter of the women’s suffrage movement. He was the author of the Married Women’s Property Acts of 1870 and 1882, which allowed women to keep earnings or property acquired before and after marriage. His death in 1898 was a great shock to Emmeline.
In 1889, Emmeline founded the Women’s Franchise League, which fought to allow married women to vote in local elections. In October 1903, she helped found the more militant Women’s Social and Political Union (WSPU) – an organisation that gained much notoriety for its activities and whose members were the first to be christened ‘suffragettes’. Emmeline’s daughters Christabel and Sylvia were both active in the cause. British politicians, press and public were astonished by the demonstrations, window smashing, arson and hunger strikes of the suffragettes. In 1913, WSPU member Emily Davison was killed when she threw herself under the king’s horse at the Derby as a protest at the government’s continued failure to grant women the right to vote.
Like many suffragettes, Emmeline was arrested on numerous occasions over the next few years and went on hunger strike herself, resulting in violent force-feeding. In 1913, in response to the wave of hunger strikes, the government passed what became known as the ‘Cat and Mouse’ Act. Hunger striking prisoners were released until they grew strong again, and then re-arrested.
This period of militancy was ended abruptly on the outbreak of war in 1914, when Emmeline turned her energies to supporting the war effort. In 1918, the Representation of the People Act gave voting rights to women over 30. Emmeline died on 14 June 1928, shortly after women were granted equal voting rights with men (at 21).’ (BBC.co.uk)
‘Little is known about Albert Emile Schloss (1847-1905), except that he was from Mayance, the French name for the city of Mainz on the Rhine in Germany. According to the cemetery’s burial register, Albert died at the Hyde Park Hotel in London.’ (royal parks.org.uk). These two cherubs adorn his plinth.
Metropolitan Anthony Bloom is commemorated with his mother, Xenia.
He was born in Lausanne, Switzerland. He spent his early childhood in Russia and Persia, his father being a member of the Russian Imperial Diplomatic Corps. His mother was the sister of Alexander Scriabin, the composer. During the Bolshevik Revolution the family had to leave Persia, and in 1923 they settled in Paris where the future metropolitan was educated, graduating in physics, chemistry and biology, and taking his doctorate in medicine, at the University of Paris.
In 1939, before leaving for the front as a surgeon in the French army, he secretly professed monastic vows in the Russian Orthodox Church. He was tonsured and received the name of Anthony in 1943. During the occupation of France by the Germans he worked as a doctor and took part in the French Resistance After the war he continued practising as a physician until 1948, when he was ordained to the priesthood and sent to England to serve as Orthodox Chaplain of the Fellowship of St. Alban and St. Sergius. He was appointed vicar of the Russian patriarchal parish in London in 1950, consecrated as Bishop in 1957 and Archbishop in 1962, in charge of the Russian Orthodox Church in Great Britain and Ireland (the Diocese of Sourozh). In 1963 he was appointed Exarch of the Moscow Patriarchate in Western Europe, and in 1966 was raised to the rank of Metropolitan. At his own request he was released in 1974 from the function of Exarch, in order to devote himself more fully to the pastoral needs of the growing flock of his diocese and all who come to him seeking advice and help.
Metropolitan Anthony received honorary doctorates from Aberdeen University (“for preaching the Word of God and renewing the spiritual life of this country”); from the Moscow Theological Academy and Seminary for his theological, pastoral, and preaching work; from Cambridge University; and from the Kiev Theological Academy. His first books on prayer and the spiritual life (Living Prayer, Meditations on a Theme, and God and Man) were published in England, and his texts are now widely published in Russia, both as books and in periodicals.
Many Orthodox Christians in Great Britain and throughout the world consider Metropolitan Anthony to be a saint.’ (https://orthodoxwiki.org/Anthony_(Bloom)_of_Sourozh)
‘Allan and Iris Burnside were the grandchildren of the founder of Eaton’s, once Canada’s largest chain of department stores until financial difficulties in the 1970s led to their eventual takeover by Sears Canada in 1997, and closure in 2002. Iris Burnside died aboard the Lusitania when the ship was torpedoed by a German U-boat on 7 May 1915. Her mother, Josephine, was also aboard but survived. Allan died in Paris in 1937. The memorial is believed to have been erected on Josephine’s death in 1943.’ (https://historicengland.org.uk/listing/the-list/list-entry/1403346)
This evening we dined on Jackie’s cottage pie with carrots al dente, tender runner beans and thick, meaty, gravy with which she drank Hoegaarden and I drank Mendoza Malbec 2019.
