Music for a rainy day -

It's Easter and, as always, I get that feeling of childhood days preparing and

celebrating another special Christian holiday. It was different back then but

my memories are still very clear.

This morning I'm listening to English music I love so much,

Ralph Vaughan Williams' "Fantasia On A Theme By ThomasTallis" 

and "Fantasia On Greensleeves" with Sir John Barbirolli. 

 In my mind I clearly see pictures of the Spring landscape I grew up in, 

the coast of Devon, Dartmoor tors, rolling dairy farms, banks of yellow

 primroses, thatched cottages and storybook villages.

 This music makes me quite homesick but also brings me joy. . . . . . and

 always hope that I will get home 'one more time.'

Of course several more times would be even better!

It's turned quite cold again here and those early sunny really warm

 Spring days have disappeared. We are remaining close to home as rain

 is falling all day. Tomorrow we hope to celebrate Easter Sunday in

 sunshine. . . .and I will enjoy choosing which Easter bonnet to wear!

HAPPY EASTER DEAR READERS

A Summer's Day -

I'm spending a lazy weekend in the cottage per 'doctor's orders' - and it's

 enjoyable as it's far too hot to be outside today.

I'm playing this classical music which makes me think of England, the 

countryside, the history, MY history!

This is my favorite recorded version - click HERE to play.

Ralph Vaughan Williams (1872-1958)

 has to be one of Britain's best composers.

The focus is of course on the stunning music. Here, in the

magnificent Gloucester Cathedral, the cinematography, editing,

and lighting all come together to add an amazing visual atmosphere.

The way the orchestra is spread through the massive cathedral is

wonderful, can you imagine being there and hearing the music

surrounding you?

Fantasia On a Theme of Thomas Tallis

The BBC Symphony Orchestra conducted by Sir Andrew Davis at

Gloucester Cathedral, where in 1910, it was played and conducted

for the first time by the composer Ralph Vaughan Williams.

The 'magic of a summer's day' doesn't happen too often for me. 

I do not thrive in heat, humidity, blazing sun, glaring swimming pools, and 

hanging out around outdoor grills, slapping at mosquitoes.

Afternoon thunderstorms are often welcome. 

I am a winter person I came from damp, rain, clouds, winds, cool.

I love moorland, gorse and heather, wild ponies, quick showers from

overcast skies, river banks, chilly babbling brooks. 

Afternoon tea in a shady, ancient apple orchard on an August afternoon. 

Raincoats, umbrellas, even rubber boots were good. 

No need for air conditioning, ceiling fans, ice!

Noticed this past very hot week. . . . . . . 

Home builders around the neighborhood spread out under trees or across

 their truck seats eating lunch or taking naps - much-needed breaks from

building oversized million dollar-plus houses.

Near death among the garden pots - canna lilies, caladiums, the few herbs

 I was trying to keep going, all on their last legs.

Birds are few as we are not feeding for a while - they look untidy

with their tired feathers.

The baby bunny is now large, golden in color - its ears so long it 

resembles a hare. . . . .which we don't have here. It nibbles the now

 browned out grass and hides under the fading hydrangea bushes.

A chipmunk comes to the small fountain in front of the porch - do you 

know they will eat almost anything, including your tomatoes.

Figs, small, unripe, hard and green are dropping fast and furious, rolling

 down the driveway - perhaps not a good harvest this year due to weather.

This past week was busy. My car required a new windshield as it was

 cracked by a thrown up stone.  

I had the final part of the root canal completed. The dentist, and his staff,

were stellar in every way. . . . . . . .

. . . . . . . .and then on Friday I went to the pain

 clinic for another, my second, steroid injection into my worn out spine.

It was unbelievably painful this time and I will admit I screamed!

This is why I'm laying low this weekend in hopes I will get relief 

from the nerve pain down my right leg within 3-5 days.

Sunday afternoon now, 90F but no storms predicted.

The entire week ahead will bring even higher daily temperatures

and little if any rain.  From what you my dear readers share, wherever

you are in the northern hemisphere, you are also having a heatwave.

Stay calm, cool and hydrated and make the most of each day.

Nature books and my English childhood -

 

A few years back I discovered British author John Lewis-Stempel. 

His amazing book titled MEADOWLAND had won the annual

 British Wainwright Prize for nature writing back in 2015. 

I didn't even know that then, but the book called to me and I purchased it.

I fell deeply in love with that book and it rests on my 'favorites shelf' and

 will be re-read many times in the years to come. 

Since then I have collected more of his books, most recently this one, 

THE WOOD. I am enjoying it as I have the others.

Since reading Meadowland I have come to love many other

 books about nature, especially those focusing on the British countryside. 

This is really not surprising as I grew up there and spent much of

my childhood and teen years wandering the lanes and fields of Devon.

With a bicycle and a book bag, I covered a lot of ground. In summer, 

with a sketch pad, a somewhat soggy tomato and cheese sandwich, 

and a Thermos flask, my days were filled. Many starting early

 mornings gathering mushrooms with my mother, afternoons 

often with my best friend in tow. We cycled off to farms, 

fields and villages, my little 'nature books' such as Warne's Observer

 Series at the ready to identify flowers, trees, leaves, fruits, nuts, birds, 

insects whatever - nature was entertainment and I loved it all.

I just wish I still had those books. Instead I'm reading new writers of

wonderful nature notes books. Much of life has changed since I was

 out there, roaming free in fresh air, in exquisite landscapes so close

 to my home. Fields, woods and farmland within walking distance, 

historic, brooding Dartmoor just a short car ride away.

It was also only a short hike, bus journey, or bike ride to the shore. 

My parents never owned a car, but we could soon be swimming in the

 ocean, discovering sea creatures along the beach and in the rock

 pools - yes there were several coastline Observer's Books too - picnicking

 on the rocks, discovering caves in the cliffs etc. It was truly a wonderful 

life. . . . . .and nature books made it even more exciting.

The Observer's Books were a series of small, pocket-sized books, published by Frederick Warne & Co in the United Kingdom from 1937 to 2003. They covered a variety of topics including hobbies, art, history and wildlife. The aim of these books was to interest the observer and they have also been popular amongst children. Some of them have become collector's items. For the dedicated collector this could be a lifetime's work as there are over 800 variations, some of which are now rare. The values of the books can vary from 50 pence to hundreds of pounds........Wikipedia

***************

Photos of amazing women during my visit to India.

While on the pleasing subject of reading a good, sometimes very good,

book, I am also about a third the way through this one and finding it 

really superb. 

Although my only visit to India - Mumbai and Cochin - was a much too

 quick stop in 2012 as part of Cunard's Queen Elizabeth cruise from

 Singapore to Dubai, memories of that country have always stayed with me. 

Since then I've read many novels set in India and found them interesting, 

sometimes disturbing, but always enlightening, and they have taught me

 so much more about the vast differences in daily life in other countries.

Are you reading anything marvelous right now?

With the arrival of October I'm feeling happier - it's my favorite 

month, my birthday month. Today I started it well with coffee on the

 front porch in sunshine, a slight breeze, and a feeling that perhaps

 this will be the beginning of better days ahead. . . . . . .days such as

 these described in my favorite October quote by the great 

Canadian author of "Anne of Green Gables. . . . . . . .

Now if only I could run through those rustling leaves, 

little nature book in hand, and spy the "amethyst, pearl, 

silver, rose and smoke-blue" colors of the valleys.

Happy October days everyone.

Celebrating my special guy -

Yesterday celebrating July 4, 2021

OK, many of you know him personally and will 

agree that my Bob is a very special guy!

Today is his 81st birthday!

You might never know it because he is quite

 fabulous in so many ways for a man of this age.

I could ramble on and tell you so much

about him, all good, all amazing, all positive.

But, as we have other things to do today 

to celebrate, I'll just share this little ditty 

because It's the kind of thing Bob loves to read,

and even though it's British, much of it will also

bring back similar memories of growing up in 

America..........and it will bring that great smile,

which Bob is known for, to his dear face.

BACK IN THE DAYS 

Back in the days of tanners and bobs,

When Mothers had patience and Fathers had jobs.

When football team families wore hand me down shoes,

And TV gave only two channels to choose.

When snowballs were harmless; ice slides were permitted,

And all of your jumpers were warm and hand knitted.

Back in the days of hot ginger beers,

When children remained so for more than six years.

When children respected what older folks said,

And pot was a thing you kept under your bed.

Back in the days of Listen with Mother,

When neighbours were friendly and talked to each other.

When cars were so rare you could play in the street.

When Doctors made house calls; Police walked the beat.

Back in the days of Milligan's Goons,

When butter was butter and songs all had tunes.

It was dumplings for dinner and trifle for tea,

And your annual break was a day by the sea.

Back in the days of Dixon's Dock Green,

Crackerjack pens and Lyons ice cream.

When children could freely wear National Health glasses,

And teachers all stood at the FRONT of their classes

Back in the days of rocking and reeling,

When mobiles were things that you hung from the ceiling.

When woodwork and pottery got taught in schools,

And everyone dreamed of a win on the pools.

Back in the days when I was a lad,

I can't help but smile for the fun that I had.

Hopscotch and roller skates; snowballs to lob.

Back in the days of tanners and bobs. 

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY BOB"

Here's to many, many more!

Thanks so much to those of you who sent him
wishes on my last post - he always reads my blog so 
enjoyed your greetings from around the world.

The Victorian railway - travel back in time. . . . .

 

I came across this very important, to me, greeting card many years ago.

I have never sent it to anyone because I cannot part with it!  From the first glance I thought this was me!  It isn't, but it could have been!  Clark's sandals, Peter Pan collared dress, straight bobbed hair.

Growing up at the seaside in Devon actually didn't require taking a holiday there, it was an everyday place. It was home. In summer we often ended days at the beach at Torquay station, just a short walk from the beach, to take the short run to the next station along the line. There, we'd hop on the local bus to our village, riding up a lengthy slow rising hill with views of blue Tor Bay beyond the rolling fields. It was a beautiful place to spend a childhood in the 1940's-50's.

An online newspaper article a couple of weeks back featured 

the same station, the headline read. . . . . . .

PLANS TO MODERNIZE TORQUAY'S VICTORIAN RAILWAY STATION

Apparently the station fails to comply with the law on equality. Major changes are being planned to modernize and install elevators in the two towers so all passengers can use the footbridge to cross between the two platforms. Makes sense, should have been done long ago to assist disabled people as there is no step-free route between the platforms. 

The building is listed because of its historic importance and a surviving example of Victorian railway architecture. It was opened in August 1859, later being rebuilt in 1878 as Torquay grew in popularity as a major holiday resort.

My station photos were taken in May 2019, actually the last trip home as we've been unable to get back since the pandemic hit. Sadly, last year's trip was canceled, and although we are lined up to go this spring, it's looking doubtful with quarantine issues etc.  

That lovely sunny day in May we traveled by train to Cornwall to meet up with longtime blog friend Barbara (also known as Elizabethd at Small Moments). We had the most fun time with her, she is a special lady in many ways.

"A little girl curls up on the train seat at the end of a seaside holiday, 

clutching her bucket and spade, her comics and a rag doll."  

PICTURE POST cover - 1946 (Haywood Magee)

It took a lot of research to find the original photo used on the card. 

Note there are railway workers outside the window, 

and the caption is 'The End of the Holiday.'

I recall the plush velvet upholstery. Overhead there would have 

been a netting 'shelf' to put baggage, and the ticket taker would

 come round with a friendly smile. Those were the days of

the wonderful steam trains.

Sitting here this morning I had a wonderful surprise outside the window.

One of those 'being in the right place at the right time' moments.

A true gift!  

I will share with you later in the week. . . . . . and yes, it's all about 

'the birds' again, of course!

Stay safe - well - and warm.

Childhood Memories - The village pub. . . . .

The Devon Dumpling, Shiphay, Torquay 2019

The Devon Dumpling 2014

Old signage was still there in this photo.

Although I left my home in England 58 years ago, one of the things I still miss is my 'local'. British people living in villages, towns, even cities, usually have a favorite pub (public house) within walking distance of their home. It's not just a place to have a drink, or even a meal, it's the social center of that particular community. The pub has been the heart and soul of British social life for centuries especially in villages. Nothing better than an hour or so spent with friends at the local pub as the drizzly rain fell, which was often the case!

When I was growing up, this particular old building was part of a dairy farm where they also raised angora rabbits. Later, the farmhouse became a 'school of dance' and I took ballet and tap classes there for a year or so when I must have been about six or seven. It then became our local pub while I was still a child. I recall walking there for a bag of Smith's Crisps (the best potato chips) now and then, just a 5 minute walk from home, and during a safer time in this crazy world. After reaching my late teens I had a drink there off and on (drinking age is lower in England than the US) and played a game of darts, before emigrating to the States. I have always stopped by on visits home, a familiar place I could never pass up. There's a 'Beer Garden', the outdoor area where you can take children as they are not permitted in pub bars, and 'The Dumpling' is well known for excellent pub food. Meals are served both in the bar and in an upstairs dining room - we always try to get the snug little table by the fireplace, especially during a winter visit.

Over the years I've enjoyed dozens of lunches and suppers there with family members and old friends during my visits home, and one very enjoyable reunion many years ago in the '80's for the 'children' of my village neighborhood. I met up with playmates and school friends, some I'd not seen since I was eight when we moved to another house also just a short walk from the pub. That was certainly a night to remember and I won the prize - a bottle of Champagne of course - for having traveled the farthest distance to reach our 'local'. It did feel a little strange as several people still lived within a stone's throw from the pub, whereas I had traveled close to 4,000 miles!

Shiphay Village thatched cottages and the Devon Dumpling pub.

Trip home to Torquay with granddaughter Jasmin in

2015 to celebrate her 18th Birthday.

Sadly, our trip scheduled for last year didn't happen due to the

 pandemic travel restrictions. Reservations are 

made for this spring and hopefully we can go - if not we will

try for autumn. The Devon Dumpling will wait for us I'm certain.

A Memoir at Seventy Seven........................

Today is my BIRTHDAY!

When I was 7 years old, mother, father and I moved to what would be 

their forever family home. Prior to that, as a baby/toddler, I lived

 in a second floor flat in town with my mother and grandma, my father

 still away serving in the Royal Air Force. 

Later we moved to a prefabricated ('prefab') home - modern and

 quite spacious - on one of many housing estates built to accommodate

 the British people across the UK requiring homes following

 World War II. It was there that I made my first friends and we all

 went to school together.

   

To me, the new 'real' house, was a dream come true. Although small,

the semi-detached bungalow with three bedrooms, and great garden

 areas front and back, and neighbors with children my age, was fabulous.

  On a then very quiet road, more like a country lane, it was just a two

 minute walk from the rolling, lush green Devon countryside, and a ten

 minute bus ride to the seaside and beaches where I spent a lot of time. 

Note, not many people had cars in those years! The year following 

that move, along came my brother, eventually filling that third bedroom!

My childhood there was magical and my memories are still so clear.  

With farms and fields to explore, my mother and I would pull on

our rubber 'wellies' to go gather mushrooms for breakfast in the early

 morning dew - before the sweet-faced Jersey cows stomped on them! 

We'd stop and buy fresh eggs from a farm. 

On long summer days I spent hours learning the names of wildflowers, 

native birds, climbing huge oak trees, and often on warm, sunny days

 picnicking on a blanket and breathing in the fragrance of the rich red 

clay soil, tall grass and flowers.

Oh, by the way, the bungalow house, where I lived until 1962 when I

emigrated to the USA. . . . . .was number 77 on our country road!

It's still there and I always stop and look at it when home for a visit.

Not much has changed other than the front garden being turned

into a parking lot now that people have cars! Not pretty as 

when my mother planted many beautiful shrubs and flowers.

Somewhere, some years ago, I found this brass number.  Probably at 

one time it held a key to a locker, and with such a magical, to me,

 number I had to have it. Today seems the perfect day to share it

  with you as I celebrate yet another birthday. . . . . . . .bet you can

 guess which one!!!

Birthday celebrations, like all celebrations this year, have to be 

different. Mine will be quiet. As October leaves fall and the

 nights turn chilly, I will just be thankful for another year under the

 warmth and safety of my roof, and in good health. . . . . but ready for

 cake, and a glass of bubbly later of course!

Morning light in December -

The sunshine is brilliant but the temperature very low this morning. 

Our coldest night and morning yet this season.

At last it feels like Christmas weather.

Warm socks pulled up around my ankles feel good, and the

 coffee mug warms my hands now starting to feel dry from 

winter's chill. Time for gloves.

Piano music from Brian Cain's album 'A Change of Seasons' is playing softly. 

I admit being obsessed by his beautiful music.

There are many birds at the feeders, some also braving the water

 in yet to freeze birdbaths, tough little feathered friends.

Yesterday I completed my decorating for the holidays.

Lights were turned on.

The tree in the gazebo glittered last evening, the cottage and porch

 glowed warmly from the floodlit front garden. I wandered down to the

street to look back and enjoy the view.

The night was silent and still as cold nights can be.

Later today some shopping for holiday baking items.

Soon a trip westward to the mountains with visits to special friends.

Wrapping and more card writing. 

Deliver gifts to some special little ones.

House cleaning, ugh!  

Cooking plans and such written on refrigerator notepad.

Pick up fresh greens for the mantel.

Make mince pies + brandy butter for them on Christmas Eve.

Prepare my English trifle dessert for San Antonio friends who will 

make a quick holiday stop.

The list grows. . . . . . . .the holiday season always busy.

Thoughts of childhood Christmases so long ago, so far away.

Memories...................

I feel the spirit of Christmas.