as read by Mark
June Smith was born in Parkhurst prison in June 1929. (We think that was the only time she spent there!)She was the third of four children, born to parents Len and Patricia. Eldest sister Lennie, then Hugh and finally her younger brother Dennis completed the family. She had a lovely childhood as they moved around the country with her father's job as a prison officer, but the Isle of Wight and Oxford were her favourites.
As a young woman just after the war, she worked in various jobs. One she mentioned often was when she worked in Simpsons in Piccadilly which she considered very glamorous.
She met her future husband Michael through her brother Hugh. The two young men were best friends and played cricket for the same team. When Hugh introduced the pair of them June was instantly bowled over and Michael felt like he'd scored a century! She became Mrs Fincher in 1950 and lived briefly with Michael's parents in Putney before moving to Streatham in 1953.
Coincidently, Michael's brother Terry also married a June Smith, which caused much hilarity but thankfully no confusion!
Over the next couple of years their family was complete, with the arrival of Robert and Rebecca. But life in London was still sometimes tough and in 1963 bomb sites and smog were exchanged for the clean country air and green fields of Orpington.
June and Mike and the two children were very happy in Kent, but it was still good to get away from it all and see the rest of the family - brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles, nephews, nieces and cousins, wherever they were in the country, enjoying the beaches in Devon or the Isle of Wight and then getting the children to bed early so they could have a good old game of cards and a natter in the evening.
Back at home though, bills still had to be paid and June worked as a dinner lady at Robert and Rebecca's primary school before getting a job at Orpington Hospital in the FPC department. Here she made many friends with whom who she remained in contact with until the end of her life.
When Robert and Rebecca were deemed to be of an age where they could be left alone, June and Michael were able to spend more time with friends as well as family, holidaying, partying and dancing but all the while keeping an eye on what the youngsters were up to!
There were additions to the family after Rebecca married and had two lovely children, Mark and Ruth. Sadly in 1982 Michael died at the early age of 55 from multiple sclerosis.
June carried on in Orpington for a while but then moved to the Isle of White for a couple of years before returning to the mainland to live with the second love of her life, Frank (not Sinatra but a Frank none the less)
They spent many happy hours together pottering around their garden at 42 East Hill Farm, or traveling the world videoing, photographing and making even more friends, again June keeping in contact with them until the end.
In 1994 Frank made an honest woman of June and two months later Robert made a decent woman of Sandy! It was a very good year.
In 1991 another man entered June's life - Rebecca's partner Alan. More family and friends to photograph and welcome into Number 42.
Frank sadly lost his battle with cancer in 2000 but June got through this with the help us all and especially a new man in the family, Rebecca’s partner Alan whom Mum adored (especially when she got him to do odd jobs around her home).
She was a very independent woman and drove her little green Nissan micra everywhere. She sang in it, spoke to it and drove over a hundred thousand miles in it. June was also a very considerate driver to her passengers. So much so that she told them to adjust the near-side wing mirror to suit THEMSELVES not her! It was, after all she said, the PASSENGER mirror. It was was always very reassuring to glance over to see her donor card attached to the dash board with her Frank Sinatra air fresher swinging in time with the music! Toot toot.
She thought nothing of traveling the globe on her own, visiting America, Australia and many places in between. But she also loved the holidays she took with her much loved sister Lennie and later brother Hugh. She also enjoyed a very memorable tour of Europe with Hugh and Margaret in their VW camper-van. When they crossed the bridges from Switzerland to Germany she would tell the custom and police officers that she and Margaret were the 29'ers and were entitled to cross the bridges free!
She also tried very hard to embrace the computer age. Not many 83 year oldshave their own Facebook page or FACEMAIL as she called it!She wasn't always successful at uploading photographs but storing the real thing in albums? - now that she was an expert at!
Many evenings were spent rearranging the 60 plus photo albums that documented June's life. Always with Frank Sinatra, Vic Damone or more recently Take That there to help her. She said she could remember taking the photographs and often what she was wearing at the time. Memories of family, friendship and love which could never be deleted.
June was immensely proud of the whole of her family and loved to tell other people of their achievements. She was always cutting out pictures and clippings from magazines and newspapers, sticking them into her scrap books - but not before they'd been copied and posted away to whoever she thought should be interested.
June will be remembered for many things, humour, organisation, thoughtfulness, but more importantly she will be remembered as a much loved Mum, Mother-in-law, Sister, Aunt, Cousin, Nanna and friend.
Thursday, November 15, 2012
JustGiving £595.00 so far
Rob's set up a JustGiving page, collecting for Breast Cancer Research, as requested by June.
(Click on the picture)
Monday, November 12, 2012
Thursday, November 01, 2012
JustGiving for Breast Cancer
from Robert Fincher
We've set up a JustGiving page, collecting for Breast Cancer Research, as requested by Mum.
Auntie June
I have spoken to both Robert and Rebecca yesterday and they now have a date for the funeral which will be at Maidstone Crematorium (also known as Vinters Park) at 13.15 on Wednesday, November 14th.
It's just south of junction 7 on the M20 and is easy to find.
Drinks and something to eat after in the same area to be confirm when numbers are known.
Can we all that are attending post in the comments on this post to begin with to give us an idea of numbers please
Love Steve
Monday, October 29, 2012
My lovely Sister
Thank you all for memories. My best was when Mum and I included her in our European journey in 1989. Whenever we crossed the bridges from Switzerland to Germany or the other way round she would tell the Officer that she and Mum were the 29ers and had free passage between European countries. She did this a few times!
Another time was when she and Mum hired a 'Royal' coach to take them racing round town in Strasbourg with flags flying waving bottles of wine. Mum really livened up when she was with June.
We had a lovely holiday that year.
I can see her now cheering on the French racing cyclists who were following us up to the top of Le Ballon D'Alsace, and when they all passed us at the top, she shouted out "We Won!" What a girl!.
Thank you all for memories. My best was when Mum and I included her in our European journey in 1989. Whenever we crossed the bridges from Switzerland to Germany or the other way round she would tell the Officer that she and Mum were the 29ers and had free passage between European countries. She did this a few times!
Another time was when she and Mum hired a 'Royal' coach to take them racing round town in Strasbourg with flags flying waving bottles of wine. Mum really livened up when she was with June.
We had a lovely holiday that year.
I can see her now cheering on the French racing cyclists who were following us up to the top of Le Ballon D'Alsace, and when they all passed us at the top, she shouted out "We Won!" What a girl!.
Sunday, October 28, 2012
Our wonderful Auntie June
so shocked along with everyone about our June, she was always so fun to be with.
one of my favourite memories of the amazing June, was we walked together to the passport control after arriving in Mauritius, and there we spent a good 5 mins trying to explain to the charming but very confused officer that June's name was June, as he kept asking her name and of course replied June! He'd never heard of anyone having same name as a month before, he thought it was wonderful and beautifully english, but of course June explained she so wished she was a Victoria!
love g xx
one of my favourite memories of the amazing June, was we walked together to the passport control after arriving in Mauritius, and there we spent a good 5 mins trying to explain to the charming but very confused officer that June's name was June, as he kept asking her name and of course replied June! He'd never heard of anyone having same name as a month before, he thought it was wonderful and beautifully english, but of course June explained she so wished she was a Victoria!
love g xx
Auntie June
I always admired our Auntie June (even though she would have preferred to have been named Victoria Elizabeth) for her joie de vivre and shere ebullience and well remember her at age 77 sprinting across the gravel at Méze that time we were all in France for Cathy's fiftieth.
I loved that time we were all at the 'Mal Maison' too after lunch chatting and sunning ourselves at Dad's 80th and of course at Mauritius for Gemma and Clives's wedding.
We had such larks at Rachel's 50th too for her surprise party with a Greek twist, smashing plates and dancing the night away at the 'Rock of Gibraltar' and later squishing about at the barbeque after a deluge at Sue's 60th.
I received a Junie Special for my birthday - in with the card loads of photos all written on the back; photocopies of Rob's birthday card to her and photo album pages and two letters all about having known Clive's Auntie Ros since 1983 and being there for Mum when I was born.
Scan10020, photo scanned by Stevecrestweed on Flickr. Then a call at 6pm on Friday and later this email from Rebecca "...That afternoon Ruth Mum & myself where on our way to lunch, mum had just had her eyes checked and ordered new glasses the 3 of us was walking side by side chatting and laughing, she was very disappointed that we where going to miss lunch. When she was in the ambulance before we left Dave the 1st paramedic, went in and gave her a big kiss, which she found very charming.
I still cannot believe it, it so unfair there was still so much she wonted to do, I bet she is giving Dad & Frank a hell of a time as she was not ready for it.
Take care with all my love
Rebecca xx
"
Scan10020, photo scanned by Stevecrestweed on Flickr. Then a call at 6pm on Friday and later this email from Rebecca "...That afternoon Ruth Mum & myself where on our way to lunch, mum had just had her eyes checked and ordered new glasses the 3 of us was walking side by side chatting and laughing, she was very disappointed that we where going to miss lunch. When she was in the ambulance before we left Dave the 1st paramedic, went in and gave her a big kiss, which she found very charming.
I still cannot believe it, it so unfair there was still so much she wonted to do, I bet she is giving Dad & Frank a hell of a time as she was not ready for it.
Take care with all my love
Rebecca xx
Wednesday, July 18, 2012
Extended Family News - Gillian Hush obituary
Hello, This is a very nice piece about Gillian Hush. Gillian is Clive's Auntie Carol's sister who unfort died last month. Carol is married to Melville, Elaine (Mum) eldest brother. Carol's family is from guisborough so a strong Middlesborough connection. She was a trailblazer at the beeb so thought you might be interested in her obit courtesy of Guardian.
g xx
Gillian Hush obituary
BBC producer behind a string of Radio 4 favourites
- guardian.co.uk,
Gillian Hush, the 'ultimate presenter’s
producer', always eschewed
opportunities to enter management, preferring to make programmes
of ever-widening diversity
opportunities to enter management, preferring to make programmes
of ever-widening diversity
The BBC radio producer Gillian Hush, who has died aged 76, was
responsible for a large number of short story features and series on
Radio 4. They included Conversation Piece with Sue MacGregor,
in which subjects from all walks of life told their stories; Alan Bennett's
Lady in the Van, about an eccentric living in his driveway; A Word in
Edgeways, a conversation series with Brian Redhead – in which
she often had to chastise him for not allowing contributors to get a
word in edgeways; and perennials such as Book at Bedtime and Book
of the Week. Hush developed an instinctive ability to judge what would
and would not work for radio.
She was born in Middlesbrough, where her father was a jeweller and
pawnbroker. At Middlesbrough high school she became head girl before
reading English at what was then Victoria University, Manchester (now
part of Manchester University). After graduating in 1957, she trained as
a journalist on the Middlesbrough Evening Gazette, remaining with the
paper until 1965, when she joined the BBC in Newcastle as a news
assistant. In 1974 she moved to BBC Manchester as a radio producer
and stayed there until she retired in 1995.
Tall, elegant and with a constant smile – described by one colleague as
"like a galleon in full sail" – Hush built up a reputation as a producer with
whom writers and contributors felt at ease. Bennett insisted that she produce
his talks, including The Alan Bennett Diaries. She had what he called a
"northern shape", encapsulating regional characteristics – comfortable,
funny, straightforward. She in turn would not hesitate to correct his
pronunciation if need be, referring to herself as the "company pedant".
Hush always eschewed opportunities to enter management, preferring
to make programmes of ever-widening diversity. She held a passion for
the arts, most notably theatre and opera, and produced several opera
series, including two with the Swedish soprano Elisabeth Söderström.
She was an early supporter of Opera North and a friend of the BBC
Philharmonic orchestra, which dedicated a prom to her when she retired.
After she left the BBC, Hush continued to produce short stories and
features for independent companies such as Pennine Productions and
Square Dog Radio. The Radio Independents Group trade body has
announced that it will name its producer of the year award after her.
She became chair of the governors at Manchester high school for girls
and served on the board of the Manchester University Press for 10
years. In 1996 she was made an MBE for services to radio and in the
same year, the University of Manchester awarded her an honorary MA.
Hush was the longest serving trustee of the Cartwheel arts charity in
Manchester and was an active member of the Shaare Hayim synagogue.
She valued her friends highly, which was typified by the montage of
picture postcards that adorned her office, sent from across the world.
She tore off each stamp to give to collectors.
She is survived by a sister, Carol.
Sue MacGregor writes: Gillian Hush was the ultimate presenter's
producer. She knew everyone and was blessed with an elephantine
memory for good talkers and people with a tale to tell. She was
meticulous and expected everyone to do a good job, but was also
immensely supportive and kind. She would collect you in her slightly
battered car from a railway station and take you to lunch. The
interviewee would almost certainly garner a bouquet of flowers.
Gillian had a way of charming the interviewee into almost total
submission long before I took over to ask the questions. In the
early 80s we recorded Baron Philippe de Rothschild in his Paris
flat for Conversation Piece, and we heard for the first time why
Chateau Mouton Rothschild did not make it into the original list
of Premier Cru Bordeaux wines in the 19th century. He explained
that Rothschild wines were produced by a family who were
originally German but above all Jewish. They had to wait until
the mid-1940s for acceptance.
Listening to all this through an open door was a mysterious figure
in a woolly hat. This turned out to be the baron's good friend
Joan Littlewood. After we had finished, the theatrical anecdotes
poured out from them both in hilarious profusion. Sadly, we
omitted to record them.
Gillian's Jewish background was very important to her and she
kept a kosher home, as I was to discover by accident. After a
long day's recording session in Cumbria with the mountaineer
Chris Bonington, she offered me a bed in her Manchester flat
as it was too late to catch a train. When supper was over, she
left the room to take a phone call and, wishing to be helpful, I
began the washing up. When Gillian returned, she was appalled
to realise that I had not separated milk and meat, and everything
had been washed up together. But I was forgiven with typical
cackles, though I fear that someone from her community had
to come in and put it right.
Laughter was never far away when one was with Gillian. If one can,
as someone once said, divide people into drains and radiators,
Gillian was the most reliable radiator I have ever known.
• Gillian Hush, radio producer, born 17 September 1935; died 28 June 2012
responsible for a large number of short story features and series on
Radio 4. They included Conversation Piece with Sue MacGregor,
in which subjects from all walks of life told their stories; Alan Bennett's
Lady in the Van, about an eccentric living in his driveway; A Word in
Edgeways, a conversation series with Brian Redhead – in which
she often had to chastise him for not allowing contributors to get a
word in edgeways; and perennials such as Book at Bedtime and Book
of the Week. Hush developed an instinctive ability to judge what would
and would not work for radio.
She was born in Middlesbrough, where her father was a jeweller and
pawnbroker. At Middlesbrough high school she became head girl before
reading English at what was then Victoria University, Manchester (now
part of Manchester University). After graduating in 1957, she trained as
a journalist on the Middlesbrough Evening Gazette, remaining with the
paper until 1965, when she joined the BBC in Newcastle as a news
assistant. In 1974 she moved to BBC Manchester as a radio producer
and stayed there until she retired in 1995.
Tall, elegant and with a constant smile – described by one colleague as
"like a galleon in full sail" – Hush built up a reputation as a producer with
whom writers and contributors felt at ease. Bennett insisted that she produce
his talks, including The Alan Bennett Diaries. She had what he called a
"northern shape", encapsulating regional characteristics – comfortable,
funny, straightforward. She in turn would not hesitate to correct his
pronunciation if need be, referring to herself as the "company pedant".
Hush always eschewed opportunities to enter management, preferring
to make programmes of ever-widening diversity. She held a passion for
the arts, most notably theatre and opera, and produced several opera
series, including two with the Swedish soprano Elisabeth Söderström.
She was an early supporter of Opera North and a friend of the BBC
Philharmonic orchestra, which dedicated a prom to her when she retired.
After she left the BBC, Hush continued to produce short stories and
features for independent companies such as Pennine Productions and
Square Dog Radio. The Radio Independents Group trade body has
announced that it will name its producer of the year award after her.
She became chair of the governors at Manchester high school for girls
and served on the board of the Manchester University Press for 10
years. In 1996 she was made an MBE for services to radio and in the
same year, the University of Manchester awarded her an honorary MA.
Hush was the longest serving trustee of the Cartwheel arts charity in
Manchester and was an active member of the Shaare Hayim synagogue.
She valued her friends highly, which was typified by the montage of
picture postcards that adorned her office, sent from across the world.
She tore off each stamp to give to collectors.
She is survived by a sister, Carol.
Sue MacGregor writes: Gillian Hush was the ultimate presenter's
producer. She knew everyone and was blessed with an elephantine
memory for good talkers and people with a tale to tell. She was
meticulous and expected everyone to do a good job, but was also
immensely supportive and kind. She would collect you in her slightly
battered car from a railway station and take you to lunch. The
interviewee would almost certainly garner a bouquet of flowers.
Gillian had a way of charming the interviewee into almost total
submission long before I took over to ask the questions. In the
early 80s we recorded Baron Philippe de Rothschild in his Paris
flat for Conversation Piece, and we heard for the first time why
Chateau Mouton Rothschild did not make it into the original list
of Premier Cru Bordeaux wines in the 19th century. He explained
that Rothschild wines were produced by a family who were
originally German but above all Jewish. They had to wait until
the mid-1940s for acceptance.
Listening to all this through an open door was a mysterious figure
in a woolly hat. This turned out to be the baron's good friend
Joan Littlewood. After we had finished, the theatrical anecdotes
poured out from them both in hilarious profusion. Sadly, we
omitted to record them.
Gillian's Jewish background was very important to her and she
kept a kosher home, as I was to discover by accident. After a
long day's recording session in Cumbria with the mountaineer
Chris Bonington, she offered me a bed in her Manchester flat
as it was too late to catch a train. When supper was over, she
left the room to take a phone call and, wishing to be helpful, I
began the washing up. When Gillian returned, she was appalled
to realise that I had not separated milk and meat, and everything
had been washed up together. But I was forgiven with typical
cackles, though I fear that someone from her community had
to come in and put it right.
Laughter was never far away when one was with Gillian. If one can,
as someone once said, divide people into drains and radiators,
Gillian was the most reliable radiator I have ever known.
• Gillian Hush, radio producer, born 17 September 1935; died 28 June 2012
Tuesday, June 05, 2012
Tuesday, May 29, 2012
Sunday, May 27, 2012
Saturday, May 19, 2012
Gem & Clive's 3rd Anniversary - some memories of Mauritius
Belle Mare Plage, Mauritius, 19 May 2009.
What a gorgeous family we have :)
The Holts - Martin, Stephen, Gemma, Clive and Elaine
Will, Martin, Grandad, Stephen, Steve, Grandma and Clive.
All I can hear in my head looking at this photo is the song "lets hear it for the boys"!
Elaine, Clive, Nigel and Stephen.
The Merrow-Smiths - Steve, Gemma, Clive and Will.
What a gorgeous family we have :)
The Holts - Martin, Stephen, Gemma, Clive and Elaine
Will, Martin, Grandad, Stephen, Steve, Grandma and Clive.
Monday, May 14, 2012
Saturday, May 12, 2012
Friday, May 11, 2012
Thursday, May 10, 2012
Wednesday, May 09, 2012
Memories
Thanks for this.
Mum and I walked up this little road way back, and stood outside STREATLEY
As part of my nostalgia we also went to a little village called Shamley Green where my Auntie Kathleen lived and where I got over my childhood illness. There was a motor cycle racing track not far away and I can still smell the petrolly smell of those bikes, even today. It wasn't petrol but some high powered essence.
Thanks for this.
Mum and I walked up this little road way back, and stood outside STREATLEY
As part of my nostalgia we also went to a little village called Shamley Green where my Auntie Kathleen lived and where I got over my childhood illness. There was a motor cycle racing track not far away and I can still smell the petrolly smell of those bikes, even today. It wasn't petrol but some high powered essence.
Tuesday, May 08, 2012
High Path Road
The interest for me has been ignited perhaps by tributes to the Falkland campaigners from 30 years ago, many of the survivors still damaged, enduring post traumatic stress, flash backs and loss of faculty with family members unable to help.
Granddad Len's luck was remarkable coming from High Path Road in Merrow. From this small village, 10 of the 44 that fell came from his road.
Family Tree
I never knew my Grandfather - he must have died before Beryl was born in 1925, as he is not on Beryl's Christening photo, but Grandma, Dad's younger brother Edgar and Auntie Kathleen and Freddie are.
You mention Anthony, but he was known to me as Freddie. I didn't know him very well as he was born in Canada. We never mixed. I don't know how he died. Only Beryl would have known that but she hated him, as he 'tried it on' with her.
I never knew my Grandfather - he must have died before Beryl was born in 1925, as he is not on Beryl's Christening photo, but Grandma, Dad's younger brother Edgar and Auntie Kathleen and Freddie are.
You mention Anthony, but he was known to me as Freddie. I didn't know him very well as he was born in Canada. We never mixed. I don't know how he died. Only Beryl would have known that but she hated him, as he 'tried it on' with her.
Tree
Great Aunt Kathleens son Anthony died in Windsor in 1940 aged 18.
Any idea how?
What about Great Grandad Smith?
He only lasted a few years after the Great War didn't he?
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Any idea how?
What about Great Grandad Smith?
He only lasted a few years after the Great War didn't he?
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
family tree - Merrows
William Smith (1867) married Lilian Spooner (1869) in 1895 Leonard William Smith born in Woking 12/4/1897, died in London on 18th March 1965, who married Patricia Martha Arnell (b.14/4/1903) on 4/6/1924 in Cowes, Isle of Wight, Died in John Radcliffe Infirmary Oxford 20th October 1965. Children; Leonicia Beryl, born 11/4/1925, Patrick Hugh Merrow 29/3/1927, June Marjory (17/6/29) and Denis Basil Merrow on 11/7/1933 (d.1992).
1. Lenny, (Leonicia Beryl. born in Haskell Road, Parkhurst, Isle of Wight on 11th April 1925) Married Alan Jeffrey Woolhouse on 28/12/46 (d.5. November 1992) children Linda June 18/6/1950 (d,2006) and Susan on 30/6/1952. (Who married Kevin Nicholas in Gower, South Wales, one child Katey. Later divorced from Kevin and married Keith Edwards in Kidderminster.
2. Patrick (Patrick Hugh Merrow, born 13 Rooke Street, Parkhurst, Isle of Wight on 29th March 1927) Married Margaret Sylvia Morgan (11/05/1929) on 26/12/1953. Sadly she died on 11th February 2010 Children Stephen Hugh (13/10/1954) who married Barbara Steele, in 1979 and who sadly died of leukaemia in John Radcliffe Infirmary, Oxford in 1978. Children Gemma Elaine (23/3/79 in Middlesborough) and William ?John born 3/2/1980 in Aldershot.
Catherine Margaret (26/7/1956) who met John Roberts in 1984. Not married but 3 Children Edmund Liam Merrow-Smith(2/5/1991, Thomas Huw Roberts Merrow-Smith and Kate Nellie Merrow-Smith.
Julian Andrew (24/2/1959) married Ruth Eleanor Phillips (13.February 1964) on 29/10/01, adopted Louis Joseph in May 2011, born in Mali West Africa on 13/10/2009
Nicholas John(1960) married Karen Dodwell in Brill, Bucks on 19th October 1965, divorced and later married Jen Hwei Sng in Singapore on 17/1/98. Children Claire En (27/11/99) and Daniel (8/12/2002)
Peter James(21st December 1963) m. Janet Hamilton Rowe(25/7/60) Children Jessica Hamilton (6/9/91),
1. Lenny, (Leonicia Beryl. born in Haskell Road, Parkhurst, Isle of Wight on 11th April 1925) Married Alan Jeffrey Woolhouse on 28/12/46 (d.5. November 1992) children Linda June 18/6/1950 (d,2006) and Susan on 30/6/1952. (Who married Kevin Nicholas in Gower, South Wales, one child Katey. Later divorced from Kevin and married Keith Edwards in Kidderminster.
2. Patrick (Patrick Hugh Merrow, born 13 Rooke Street, Parkhurst, Isle of Wight on 29th March 1927) Married Margaret Sylvia Morgan (11/05/1929) on 26/12/1953. Sadly she died on 11th February 2010 Children Stephen Hugh (13/10/1954) who married Barbara Steele, in 1979 and who sadly died of leukaemia in John Radcliffe Infirmary, Oxford in 1978. Children Gemma Elaine (23/3/79 in Middlesborough) and William ?John born 3/2/1980 in Aldershot.
Catherine Margaret (26/7/1956) who met John Roberts in 1984. Not married but 3 Children Edmund Liam Merrow-Smith(2/5/1991, Thomas Huw Roberts Merrow-Smith and Kate Nellie Merrow-Smith.
Julian Andrew (24/2/1959) married Ruth Eleanor Phillips (13.February 1964) on 29/10/01, adopted Louis Joseph in May 2011, born in Mali West Africa on 13/10/2009
Nicholas John(1960) married Karen Dodwell in Brill, Bucks on 19th October 1965, divorced and later married Jen Hwei Sng in Singapore on 17/1/98. Children Claire En (27/11/99) and Daniel (8/12/2002)
Peter James(21st December 1963) m. Janet Hamilton Rowe(25/7/60) Children Jessica Hamilton (6/9/91),
Great Grandfather
One of the problems of tracing our male line past Granddad Len is how many Smiths there are in the records and how many William Smiths there were in Surrey- and how big Surrey was in the 19th century.
Brixton and South Norwood were both in the county at the time.
However, the fact that the 18 year old Leonard met his father in while both were serving in Malta in 1915 has lead me to this record.
Do we think Great Grandfather Smith was born in Croydon?
This record is for the duration of the war and relates to working on the railways. I wonder if the given address is related to his previous employment.
Interesting to note that in the Merrow Village online community site, there is reference to Mrs Smith of Streatly Cottage High Path Road Merrow receiving news that Private L Smith had passed through the action unscathed.
Does it ring any bells
Brixton and South Norwood were both in the county at the time.
However, the fact that the 18 year old Leonard met his father in while both were serving in Malta in 1915 has lead me to this record.
Do we think Great Grandfather Smith was born in Croydon?
This record is for the duration of the war and relates to working on the railways. I wonder if the given address is related to his previous employment.
Interesting to note that in the Merrow Village online community site, there is reference to Mrs Smith of Streatly Cottage High Path Road Merrow receiving news that Private L Smith had passed through the action unscathed.
Does it ring any bells
ancestors
If anyone is keen to do a bit of compiling, the fees are about £12 a month. Let me know if you're interested.
Monday, April 30, 2012
word processor?
Dear All
In order to try and retain my memory, here is one of my comic poems given 30 years ago when I was the 'comic turn' at the COS November shows.
It is a nonsense rhyme from Billy Bennett who used to wear a black overcoat and bowler hat (Circa 1924-6) and always kept a straight face.
THE ROAD TO MANDALAY
'On the banks of the river schemozzle, mid the deserts and sands of Dundalk,
I've hunted wild llamas in purple pajamas and eaten pea soup with a fork;
I've struggled with scivvies and ooja capivvies and milked tabby cats in Tibet,
I've cut off the congas from bizzy balongas but the worst time that I've had yet
Was on the Road to Mandalay, where they're frying fish all day
They bring there own chips with them, when its early closing day
They eat hot curried chicken in the Kyber Pass cafe
and you can hear the sound of thunder as it booms across the Bay.
There's an old white washed pagoda looking eastwards to the west
where a Burmese girl from Bermondsey, sits knitting in her vest.
She's pretty as a picture though she's lost one eye they say In the Black Hole of Calcutta?
No - in a key-hole in Bombay.
Look as far as you can see, boy, look a little further son. for that Burma girl is burning - stick a fork in see if she's done.
Oh, that dainty, dusky damsel. Indian features, proud and sweet Indian ink upon her fingers, Indian corns upon her feet.
There's not a drop of water in this waste of desert land the Soldiers tongues are hanging out and trailing in the sand.
They're hanging out like carpets and you'll hear the natives say It's time they laid some lino on the Road to Mandalay
See that stately dromedary, with its hind legs give a kick
and two mosquitoes on its back say "stop your jockling tick.
On its hump there sits two Hindus and when the drum, drum gives a cough, they exit through the early doors and the monkey says 'They're off' (NOT IN THERE, LADDIE, THAT'S A PITH HELMET)
There's a farm on the horizon, looking eastwards to Siam. where you can get some ham and eggs (if you've got some eggs and ham)
They've only got one chicken, though they call it Mandy by the way
They've just found out that its a cock, that why they can't make Mandy Lay.
As the Temple bells are ringing, comes the soldier from his hut
Am I in time for service?
No- too late, the canteen's shut.
There's no maps for the soldiers,in this land of Gunga Din, So they find the toughest soldier and tattoo on his skin.
On his shoulders is Calcutta, lower down he's got Bombay
And you'll find him sitting peacefully ON THE ROAD TO MANDALAY
--
Posted By Patrick to merrow-smith.org on 4/24/2012 09:17:00 AM
In order to try and retain my memory, here is one of my comic poems given 30 years ago when I was the 'comic turn' at the COS November shows.
It is a nonsense rhyme from Billy Bennett who used to wear a black overcoat and bowler hat (Circa 1924-6) and always kept a straight face.
THE ROAD TO MANDALAY
'On the banks of the river schemozzle, mid the deserts and sands of Dundalk,
I've hunted wild llamas in purple pajamas and eaten pea soup with a fork;
I've struggled with scivvies and ooja capivvies and milked tabby cats in Tibet,
I've cut off the congas from bizzy balongas but the worst time that I've had yet
Was on the Road to Mandalay, where they're frying fish all day
They bring there own chips with them, when its early closing day
They eat hot curried chicken in the Kyber Pass cafe
and you can hear the sound of thunder as it booms across the Bay.
There's an old white washed pagoda looking eastwards to the west
where a Burmese girl from Bermondsey, sits knitting in her vest.
She's pretty as a picture though she's lost one eye they say In the Black Hole of Calcutta?
No - in a key-hole in Bombay.
Look as far as you can see, boy, look a little further son. for that Burma girl is burning - stick a fork in see if she's done.
Oh, that dainty, dusky damsel. Indian features, proud and sweet Indian ink upon her fingers, Indian corns upon her feet.
There's not a drop of water in this waste of desert land the Soldiers tongues are hanging out and trailing in the sand.
They're hanging out like carpets and you'll hear the natives say It's time they laid some lino on the Road to Mandalay
See that stately dromedary, with its hind legs give a kick
and two mosquitoes on its back say "stop your jockling tick.
On its hump there sits two Hindus and when the drum, drum gives a cough, they exit through the early doors and the monkey says 'They're off' (NOT IN THERE, LADDIE, THAT'S A PITH HELMET)
There's a farm on the horizon, looking eastwards to Siam. where you can get some ham and eggs (if you've got some eggs and ham)
They've only got one chicken, though they call it Mandy by the way
They've just found out that its a cock, that why they can't make Mandy Lay.
As the Temple bells are ringing, comes the soldier from his hut
Am I in time for service?
No- too late, the canteen's shut.
There's no maps for the soldiers,in this land of Gunga Din, So they find the toughest soldier and tattoo on his skin.
On his shoulders is Calcutta, lower down he's got Bombay
And you'll find him sitting peacefully ON THE ROAD TO MANDALAY
--
Posted By Patrick to merrow-smith.org on 4/24/2012 09:17:00 AM
Location:Pass it through a word processor?
Friday, April 27, 2012
When I re-read my nonsense poem, the new style blogger would not permit me to create a poem style appearance and although I tried to edit it so that it appears like Pete's in short lines and verses, it still comes out like a letter instead of like a poem. I am sorry about that as what comes out is not what I wanted. Any ideas, anyone?.
NEW ASUS LAPTOP
I sent my old TV back to Currys but they say they cannot repair it, so I went along to the Banbury shop and they gave me a letter, offering to exchange it, so I chose a small PC laptop, instead.. The shop man offered to install it for me but as I am an Apple man, I couldn't work it, although I have managed to start it up but cannot install a programme, like email or Safari. I am taking it back today to get an explanation, hoping that I can get some help. I will have to use my Mac until I can get used to the new laptop.
NEW ASUS LAPTOP
I sent my old TV back to Currys but they say they cannot repair it, so I went along to the Banbury shop and they gave me a letter, offering to exchange it, so I chose a small PC laptop, instead.. The shop man offered to install it for me but as I am an Apple man, I couldn't work it, although I have managed to start it up but cannot install a programme, like email or Safari. I am taking it back today to get an explanation, hoping that I can get some help. I will have to use my Mac until I can get used to the new laptop.
Sunday, April 22, 2012
Edmunds return to Gratz
Yesterday John and I waved Edmund off from Swansea Station, he will have arrived at Paddington at 9.30p.m. crossed London for Liverpool Street Station bound for Stanstead Aiport arriving about 11.30p.m. then he will have waited 11 hours for his flight this morning, he doesn't complain but he went with a heavy heart, it has been such an unlucky year for him, I just hope there is something that will redeem this last term for him.
Saturday, April 21, 2012
Tuesday, April 17, 2012
Monday, April 16, 2012
My holiday starts on 30 July - 6th August
Cruising down the River Douro in Portugal from Oporto to Salamanca in Spain, With my sister June,
Pete has agreed to drive me to Gatwick to catch the 11.55 plane. Return on 6th August Plane lands at 15.50. Pete - don't forget !!
Pete has agreed to drive me to Gatwick to catch the 11.55 plane. Return on 6th August Plane lands at 15.50. Pete - don't forget !!
Saturday, April 14, 2012
Tuesday, April 10, 2012
Monday, April 09, 2012
The Kudu
I wrote this poem years ago in Botswana and just found it in an old Orapa CJSS school magazine as I was trawling through papers that need sorting out! To put it in context, we only had one Spar supermarket in Orapa and it kept rather daft hours considering it was the only place to buy food. The town was surrounded by a 5km deep wilderness area marked by perimeter fence which had only two gates in it - east and west - policed by security points where everyone had to stop and register their business. People often waited for lifts into town once they had had their passes approved and stamped, so it was common to see pick-ups (bakkies) driving into town full of people.
Orapa had a game park but the kudu were the least confined of all the inmates as they can jump 10 foot fences easily. A friend of mine had one land on his car after it jumped one of the perimeter fences designed to keep people out.
Now most Batswana don't bothe with gardening. They have been taught to weed out all plants that might harbour mosquitoes and brush the dusty soil away to leave a bare yard that has nothing growing on it at all...
But our next door neighbour in Orapa was a Zimbabwean RE teacher called Moyo who had been brought up with an agricultural heritage. He always planted spinach, sugar cane and maize, even though every year the kudu would decimate his efforts. He'd tie plastic bags to every fence post and string wires across his garden but to no avail. At the end of every year he would claim to give up and would promise only to keep a Batswana style garden...but each year he would re-plant nonetheless.
In the first year we attempted growing stuff of our own, we produced ten times as much maize as my good friend Moyo by directing all our family bath water and washing suds onto the garden. This extra water and fertilizer boosted growth so much that our crop was ready for harvest before the kudu came and before Moyo's maize had begun to swell! The poem was written for him and found its way into the school magazine!
It's in the style of a Stanley Holloway monologue! Enjoy...
The Kudu
The Kudu, one knows,
has an excellent nose
For a feast that could feed quite a
number..
So a vegetable patch,
Well, it’s hardly a match
For a handsome young buck
Who is down on his luck
And who’s looking quite lean
‘Cause he hasn’t a bean
Or a cabbage, a pea or cucumber.
Now our story begins
In the terrible ‘thins’
(That’s a term that means
winter to Kudu).
For there’s hardly a leaf
Or a grass blade beneath
And the sun has dried up
All the water they sup
And they’re hungry you see
‘Cause they’re missing their tea
And they cannot buy food
such as you do.
So it soon came to pass
When he ran out of grass
That this antelope planned
just what to do...
He would venture to go
To a place we all know
(For the Orapa Spar
Well, it wasn’t too far)
Even though he’d no car
He’d be there in an hour
And he’d ask for some lunch,
would that Kudu.
Now our Kudu was wise
And he donned a disguise
So as not to draw too much attention.
He sported a suit
and a silk tie t’boot,
With a pair of fine shoes
Though he didn’t know whose
That he’d happen to spy
Near to Lion Tree Braai
While out walking not long
after luncheon.
But on reaching the gate
It was getting quite late
And he feared his plan might
have a hiccup.
For often he’d heard,
Though is seemed quite absurd,
That the shops shut at noon
Which was rather too soon,
And the sun in the sky
Said that ‘pm’ was nigh
So he flagged down a
blue and white pick-up.
In the town he was dropped
Very near to the shop
Which he hoped would stay
open all Sunday
But his progress was barred
By a small piece of card
That he couldn’t ignore
(Being stuck to the door)
Which politely advised
All those standing outside
That the shop was now
closed until Monday.
‘What on Earth shall I do?”
Thought our hungry Kudu
For he longed for some warm
milk and honey.
And yet wandering around,
Desperately searching the town,
Though he scoured every street
For a morsel to eat,
Well, he never did find
Anything of the kind
That would satisfy his aching tummy.
‘Til at long last he found
A tall hedge that did bound
A fair garden as green as was Eden;
He saw seeds had been sown
Of all vegetables known,
“And it smells so divine!
It’s just got to be mine!”
Said our friend with a fetish
For radish and lettuce,
Who drooled at the sight
Of the dinner he might
In an hour or two get to feed on.
For paradise found
Lay upon hallowed ground,
Where a kudu can’t graze
in broad daylight.
‘Cause this gardener’s toil
Was to worship the soil
And the plants he’d grown there
Which he nurtured with care
He did guard with such zeal
That a chap couldn’t steal
them
Until it was well after midnight!
Justly proud Moyo was
Of his garden because
He had had some successes already.
For in previous years
He had warmed to the cheers
As he’d pushed his prize peas
(Which were free of disease)
To the town in a barrow
Along with a marrow
That he’d sold for two pula, ten thebe.
Now about peas and beans
Moyo had nasty dreams
As he knew it would
soon be high season
For the kudu to come
And eat up every one!
“And they won’t stop at that!”
He had told next door’s cat,
“For they surely will pillage
All the tops of my spinach
Without care and without
rhyme nor reason!!”
So a plan he had hatched
To protect his green patch
From the scourge of the pestilent kudu.
He had planted a hedge
Right up close to the edge
That he’d trimmed nice and neat
So the view from the street
Would be lovely and green
But no crops would be seen
And no deer would appear
to say “Shoo!” to.
Now this hedge had grown dense
So engulfing the fence
That the garden seemed fully protected.
Not a single green bean
From the street could be seen;
In fact none of his veg
Could be spied through the hedge..
“And my hedge is so tall!”
Rejoiced Moyo (who was small -
a point that he’d rather neglected).
Now a kudu can bound
Fifteen feet off the ground
And considerably higher than hedges.
And on seeing no light
By the darkness of night
This same kudu did glide
To the grocery side
And began to consume
Every single legume
From the middle right out
to the edges.
By the following spring
Well there wasn’t a thing
That still grew there
In poor Moyo’s garden.
He claimed in disgust
That he’d rather sweep dust
Than offer free food
To a beast quite so rude
As a young kudu buck
Who, because of ill luck
He was somehow
expected to pardon.
So a kudu, you see
May well steal for his tea
No matter how strong your defence is.
For a hedge ten feet tall
Is no problem at all
To a beast with a nose
For a gard’ner who grows
Prize-winning produce
That he’ll quickly reduce
It to dust that’s surrounded by fences.
Orapa had a game park but the kudu were the least confined of all the inmates as they can jump 10 foot fences easily. A friend of mine had one land on his car after it jumped one of the perimeter fences designed to keep people out.
Now most Batswana don't bothe with gardening. They have been taught to weed out all plants that might harbour mosquitoes and brush the dusty soil away to leave a bare yard that has nothing growing on it at all...
But our next door neighbour in Orapa was a Zimbabwean RE teacher called Moyo who had been brought up with an agricultural heritage. He always planted spinach, sugar cane and maize, even though every year the kudu would decimate his efforts. He'd tie plastic bags to every fence post and string wires across his garden but to no avail. At the end of every year he would claim to give up and would promise only to keep a Batswana style garden...but each year he would re-plant nonetheless.
In the first year we attempted growing stuff of our own, we produced ten times as much maize as my good friend Moyo by directing all our family bath water and washing suds onto the garden. This extra water and fertilizer boosted growth so much that our crop was ready for harvest before the kudu came and before Moyo's maize had begun to swell! The poem was written for him and found its way into the school magazine!
It's in the style of a Stanley Holloway monologue! Enjoy...
The Kudu
The Kudu, one knows,
has an excellent nose
For a feast that could feed quite a
number..
So a vegetable patch,
Well, it’s hardly a match
For a handsome young buck
Who is down on his luck
And who’s looking quite lean
‘Cause he hasn’t a bean
Or a cabbage, a pea or cucumber.
Now our story begins
In the terrible ‘thins’
(That’s a term that means
winter to Kudu).
For there’s hardly a leaf
Or a grass blade beneath
And the sun has dried up
All the water they sup
And they’re hungry you see
‘Cause they’re missing their tea
And they cannot buy food
such as you do.
So it soon came to pass
When he ran out of grass
That this antelope planned
just what to do...
He would venture to go
To a place we all know
(For the Orapa Spar
Well, it wasn’t too far)
Even though he’d no car
He’d be there in an hour
And he’d ask for some lunch,
would that Kudu.
Now our Kudu was wise
And he donned a disguise
So as not to draw too much attention.
He sported a suit
and a silk tie t’boot,
With a pair of fine shoes
Though he didn’t know whose
That he’d happen to spy
Near to Lion Tree Braai
While out walking not long
after luncheon.
But on reaching the gate
It was getting quite late
And he feared his plan might
have a hiccup.
For often he’d heard,
Though is seemed quite absurd,
That the shops shut at noon
Which was rather too soon,
And the sun in the sky
Said that ‘pm’ was nigh
So he flagged down a
blue and white pick-up.
In the town he was dropped
Very near to the shop
Which he hoped would stay
open all Sunday
But his progress was barred
By a small piece of card
That he couldn’t ignore
(Being stuck to the door)
Which politely advised
All those standing outside
That the shop was now
closed until Monday.
‘What on Earth shall I do?”
Thought our hungry Kudu
For he longed for some warm
milk and honey.
And yet wandering around,
Desperately searching the town,
Though he scoured every street
For a morsel to eat,
Well, he never did find
Anything of the kind
That would satisfy his aching tummy.
‘Til at long last he found
A tall hedge that did bound
A fair garden as green as was Eden;
He saw seeds had been sown
Of all vegetables known,
“And it smells so divine!
It’s just got to be mine!”
Said our friend with a fetish
For radish and lettuce,
Who drooled at the sight
Of the dinner he might
In an hour or two get to feed on.
For paradise found
Lay upon hallowed ground,
Where a kudu can’t graze
in broad daylight.
‘Cause this gardener’s toil
Was to worship the soil
And the plants he’d grown there
Which he nurtured with care
He did guard with such zeal
That a chap couldn’t steal
them
Until it was well after midnight!
Justly proud Moyo was
Of his garden because
He had had some successes already.
For in previous years
He had warmed to the cheers
As he’d pushed his prize peas
(Which were free of disease)
To the town in a barrow
Along with a marrow
That he’d sold for two pula, ten thebe.
Now about peas and beans
Moyo had nasty dreams
As he knew it would
soon be high season
For the kudu to come
And eat up every one!
“And they won’t stop at that!”
He had told next door’s cat,
“For they surely will pillage
All the tops of my spinach
Without care and without
rhyme nor reason!!”
So a plan he had hatched
To protect his green patch
From the scourge of the pestilent kudu.
He had planted a hedge
Right up close to the edge
That he’d trimmed nice and neat
So the view from the street
Would be lovely and green
But no crops would be seen
And no deer would appear
to say “Shoo!” to.
Now this hedge had grown dense
So engulfing the fence
That the garden seemed fully protected.
Not a single green bean
From the street could be seen;
In fact none of his veg
Could be spied through the hedge..
“And my hedge is so tall!”
Rejoiced Moyo (who was small -
a point that he’d rather neglected).
Now a kudu can bound
Fifteen feet off the ground
And considerably higher than hedges.
And on seeing no light
By the darkness of night
This same kudu did glide
To the grocery side
And began to consume
Every single legume
From the middle right out
to the edges.
By the following spring
Well there wasn’t a thing
That still grew there
In poor Moyo’s garden.
He claimed in disgust
That he’d rather sweep dust
Than offer free food
To a beast quite so rude
As a young kudu buck
Who, because of ill luck
He was somehow
expected to pardon.
So a kudu, you see
May well steal for his tea
No matter how strong your defence is.
For a hedge ten feet tall
Is no problem at all
To a beast with a nose
For a gard’ner who grows
Prize-winning produce
That he’ll quickly reduce
It to dust that’s surrounded by fences.
Cath - Do you skype
as I saw your picture turn up while Nick was skyping me. Dad
Would be nice if you could Skype me. I speak tp Julian and Nic. Glad you all had such a lovely day, Dad XXXXX
Would be nice if you could Skype me. I speak tp Julian and Nic. Glad you all had such a lovely day, Dad XXXXX
Sunday, April 08, 2012
Saturday, April 07, 2012
Tuesday, April 03, 2012
Monday, April 02, 2012
Thursday, March 29, 2012
Have a fun evening
Nic tells me that you are out with the boys tonight, have fun. lots of love Cathyxxx
Wednesday, March 28, 2012
Invisiblity
I seem to be having trouble with facebook unbeknown to me. I have disappeared. I have been posting up health reports as usual but apparently they have not been showing up. So here is an up date........ Friday to Monday very rough from the chemo, Monday.......light at the end of the tunnel, by the end of the day feeling O.K, but then I broke a tooth eating toast with the crusts cut off....must have been teeth grinding...so full of panic re the dentist as I now come into my immunity compromised days. Tuesday woke feeling brilliant, spoke to the dentist who saw me straight away and put a temporary patch on the tooth,then swanned about Aber happy as Larry....so nice not to feel ill, came home and cooked shellfish free paella....Wednesday not quite so brilliant but still good, mucking about on the computer all morning, some light cleaning followed by toast eating, then tears as I find out why no one has been in touch....Love to all Cathy
Monday, March 26, 2012
The English Winter
We are basking in the English winter at Woolacombe Bay. A long awaited and much needed break, even though Julian is of course working, painting boats and cottages..... Louis meanwhile has discovered the joys of the bucket and spade, and is enjoying revisiting old Merrow-Smith haunts. His vocabulary has been extended to include sheep, cow, grass, beach, bucket and, most importantly, he has added to fish - CHIPS!
Saturday, March 24, 2012
grandpa
Louis saw this picture and said "Grandpa!" quite confusing as he saw two grandpas in two days!
Friday, March 23, 2012
Alls the news
So we've been reading about lots of goings on and birthdays, but as it's Friday night, about all I can muster is a hello to all,
Love Nic
Love Nic
Thursday, March 22, 2012
Happy Birthday to Gemma
Dear Gem
I don't know where you are, but wherever it is I hope you have a super birthday. If you are with Mandy and John, pass on my best wishes to them and the girls (and Clive) Love from Grandad XXXXXXXXX
I don't know where you are, but wherever it is I hope you have a super birthday. If you are with Mandy and John, pass on my best wishes to them and the girls (and Clive) Love from Grandad XXXXXXXXX
A lovely day
Lovely to see you looking so smashing Cath.
Julian and Louis turned up on Wednesday morning. Louis seemed to recognise me (called me granpa) and realised that he had been here before.
He was full of fun and now I cannot find my door stop to my bedroom door!
Ruth rang up and we agreed to meet her outside the Randolph in Beaumont Street, which we did.
Then it was high tail it to the Trout in Wolvercote for lunch. Once more Louis was the centre of attention as he watched the ducks and swans on the river.(not the one where the two old ladies see the streaker run on,where one lets out a screech and one has a stroke, but the other just couldn't reach) (Sounds like a 2 Ronnie sketch). Anyway to return to my day out, we all had a very nice lunch. with some drinkies, and Louis made friends with other (nearly)2 year olds.
Next step was to go to South Parade (Summertown) on the Banbury Road where Ruth was determined to do some shopping at a classy butchers and returned with a half leg of local spring lamb, plus veggies for our evening dinner. She had previously done some M&S shopping for clothes to replace those spoilt in the house fire and looked sassy, having also lost a few pounds during the stress of the fire. Next stop was Wheatley where they went into Asda and I stayed in the hired car.
Ruth has agreed NOT to join the orchestra for this year's Garsington Opera as she was committed to play in an orchestra in Paris.
But we went to Garsington where they were staying with an old friend (Mrs.Wyn Jones) and we spent the rest of the afternoon in Wyn's garden, looking out for miles to the countryside of Oxfordshire below, with Louis enjoying the freedom of no shoes and pants and was playing on the grass. We spent an hour or two in this lovely garden, while Ruth was trying out the Aga cooker and was preparing our evening meal. As the afternoon closed and the sun eventually went down, we went indoors and joined Wyn for dinner of roast new Berkshire lamb. The best lamb I have ever tasted. We sat and chatted for an hour or two until my lovely Julian drove me home to K/s and back to bed for me.
Needless to say you were were in all our thoughts, Cath and we agreed that after a visit to Ruth's Dad Tom on the morrow and lunch with Ruth's friend Kipper in Chipping Norton on Friday we would all make arrangements to come to Wales before the return journey to France. Lots of love from Dad, Julian, Ruth and Louis.
Julian and Louis turned up on Wednesday morning. Louis seemed to recognise me (called me granpa) and realised that he had been here before.
He was full of fun and now I cannot find my door stop to my bedroom door!
Ruth rang up and we agreed to meet her outside the Randolph in Beaumont Street, which we did.
Then it was high tail it to the Trout in Wolvercote for lunch. Once more Louis was the centre of attention as he watched the ducks and swans on the river.(not the one where the two old ladies see the streaker run on,where one lets out a screech and one has a stroke, but the other just couldn't reach) (Sounds like a 2 Ronnie sketch). Anyway to return to my day out, we all had a very nice lunch. with some drinkies, and Louis made friends with other (nearly)2 year olds.
Next step was to go to South Parade (Summertown) on the Banbury Road where Ruth was determined to do some shopping at a classy butchers and returned with a half leg of local spring lamb, plus veggies for our evening dinner. She had previously done some M&S shopping for clothes to replace those spoilt in the house fire and looked sassy, having also lost a few pounds during the stress of the fire. Next stop was Wheatley where they went into Asda and I stayed in the hired car.
Ruth has agreed NOT to join the orchestra for this year's Garsington Opera as she was committed to play in an orchestra in Paris.
But we went to Garsington where they were staying with an old friend (Mrs.Wyn Jones) and we spent the rest of the afternoon in Wyn's garden, looking out for miles to the countryside of Oxfordshire below, with Louis enjoying the freedom of no shoes and pants and was playing on the grass. We spent an hour or two in this lovely garden, while Ruth was trying out the Aga cooker and was preparing our evening meal. As the afternoon closed and the sun eventually went down, we went indoors and joined Wyn for dinner of roast new Berkshire lamb. The best lamb I have ever tasted. We sat and chatted for an hour or two until my lovely Julian drove me home to K/s and back to bed for me.
Needless to say you were were in all our thoughts, Cath and we agreed that after a visit to Ruth's Dad Tom on the morrow and lunch with Ruth's friend Kipper in Chipping Norton on Friday we would all make arrangements to come to Wales before the return journey to France. Lots of love from Dad, Julian, Ruth and Louis.
Wednesday, March 21, 2012
Tuesday, March 20, 2012
Thanks to you also, Steve
It was very heartening to read your blog, Steve and to know that you were able to get down to LL/BR to be with Cathy and family and to share with them some encouraging news after the c/t scan. Thanks for that - I know how much you love us all and we hope that little improvements will lead to bigger ones next time there is a scan. Love from Dad XXXXXX
Monday, March 19, 2012
Llandewi Breffi
To Wales for Cathy's scan Friday and it seemed that her breathing was less wheezy when we had a little stroll up the Old Drovers way afterwards and we became more hopeful.
Todays visit to the hospital decided whether or not to carry on with the treatment.
John called this afternoon to say that the CT scan fortunately shows there has been some improvement and no spreading of the disease elsewhere so on we go to the next phase.
The news has nearly sunk in!
Thanks to John for his attentiveness and his hospitality (in the form of daily poached eggs on toast and curry after the rugby) while I was there and to Kate and Thomas for Mothers Day chocolates for Sunday Breakfast and to my sister for being a brave girl..(proud brother)
Thanks to Nikki Laa for dropping everything to be there today as well.
Being there is a skill that's so important when things get difficult isn't it.
Sorry if this sounds like a stilted after-dinner speech but it has been quite a weekend.
Todays visit to the hospital decided whether or not to carry on with the treatment.
John called this afternoon to say that the CT scan fortunately shows there has been some improvement and no spreading of the disease elsewhere so on we go to the next phase.
The news has nearly sunk in!
Thanks to John for his attentiveness and his hospitality (in the form of daily poached eggs on toast and curry after the rugby) while I was there and to Kate and Thomas for Mothers Day chocolates for Sunday Breakfast and to my sister for being a brave girl..(proud brother)
Thanks to Nikki Laa for dropping everything to be there today as well.
Being there is a skill that's so important when things get difficult isn't it.
Sorry if this sounds like a stilted after-dinner speech but it has been quite a weekend.
Auntie Celia
from T via Facebook
Hi Steve, just an update, the hospital said that following the latest stroke that Ed's Mum now requires 24hr nursing care & is unable to live at home with Rick any longer.
They moved her into Sandown Nursing Home last week, Ed & myself were lucky enough to be able to choose her room, so she has quite a good size room on the ground floor with lovely french windows out to a courtyard. She has settled in quite well, but doesn't really understand why she is unable to go home, we have tried to explain that she now has no balance & it is safer this way, but she does miss Dad so much. He visits her everyday & we've put as many of her things in the room as possible to make it more like home.
On a plus note at least she is out of hospital and now able to have visitors at any time, which is n
icer for her.
Hope you guys are all doing well, I have to say that Cathy is amazing & a complete inspiration to everyone.
Love & hugs,
Teresa & Eddie x
Hi Steve, just an update, the hospital said that following the latest stroke that Ed's Mum now requires 24hr nursing care & is unable to live at home with Rick any longer.
They moved her into Sandown Nursing Home last week, Ed & myself were lucky enough to be able to choose her room, so she has quite a good size room on the ground floor with lovely french windows out to a courtyard. She has settled in quite well, but doesn't really understand why she is unable to go home, we have tried to explain that she now has no balance & it is safer this way, but she does miss Dad so much. He visits her everyday & we've put as many of her things in the room as possible to make it more like home.
On a plus note at least she is out of hospital and now able to have visitors at any time, which is n
icer for her.
Hope you guys are all doing well, I have to say that Cathy is amazing & a complete inspiration to everyone.
Love & hugs,
Teresa & Eddie x
Thursday, March 15, 2012
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
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