International Bomber Command Centre 2

The Bomber Command Memorial Centre has made a real effort to highlight the role of women in World War 2.  There are ten silhouettes made of Corten A weathering steel.  At first I thought it was just rusty iron but it's a steel alloy which forms a crust which looks like rust but is stable and doesn't leave a messy mark on your finger when you run your hand over it.  

One of the women commemorated was Stella Charnaud, better known as Lady Reading.  After her husband died in 1935 she became very  involved in public work and in 1938 she responded to the Home Secretary's request to form a women's organisation in case of war.  By 1942 the Women's Voluntary Service had a million members.  They were key in organising the evacuation of children from the cities to the countryside and providing help to anyone displaced because of the war.  Nella Last (Housewife, 49) was a member.     

Bomber County

During WW2 Lincolnshire became known as Bomber County as so many bombing sorties were flown from RAF stations in the county.  About twenty years ago the (then) Lord Lieutenant felt that there ought to be a memorial in Lincolnshire to the courage of the RAF personnel who served here.  The International Bomber Command Centre in Lincoln is his lasting legacy.  

I've wanted to visit the memorial since it opened in 2017 but never got around to it but yesterday was the day.  I went with a women's group and we had a tour of the site.  I've no doubt that I'll be writing more about the centre but I wanted to share a few photos.  Some are mine, some from other sources where I would not be able to do the subject justice.  

The memorial stands on a hillside overlooking the city of Lincoln.  Lincoln’s Cathedral provided a landmark for crews both leaving and returning from missions and, for those who failed to return, the Cathedral was often their last image of home.  I wanted to show a view of the city and of some of the memorial poppies.  

This photograph isn't mine but was taken from the air.  The aircraft outlined is a Lancaster bomber, used extensively from the county's airfield's during the war.  The red bits are ceramic poppies.

The dominant feature of the memorial is the spire.  It is surrounded by walls engraved with the names of the almost 58,000 men and women who lost their lives serving in or supporting Bomber Command.  

The Tree

 I watch other people's trees with interest as they go through the year and photograph a special specimen each month.  But this tree isn't like that.

This is a tree which lights up.  I bought it one Christmas but left it out when I packed away the other decorations.  I don't often switch on the lights but I do like to decorate it a little.  It has the usual sort of thing at Christmas, small eggs at Easter and I have recently bought these bees.  They made me smile.  

I'd like to make a few things to hang on my tree but I have no idea what.  They need to be 2-4cm high and not weigh much.  Anybody got any ideas?

Birthday parties

 It's years since I went to a birthday party but two came along almost at once.

On Saturday I went to a barbecue to celebrate a friend's seventieth birthday and next Sunday another friend is hosting an afternoon tea to celebrate her seventy fifth.  S has recently moved back from France and she's using her three-quarter century to celebrate with the friends who couldn't go to France when she was seventy. 

When I was a child it seemed to take forever for a year to pass and I could proudly say, "I'm seven" instead of "I'm six".  These days a decade seems to take about as long as a year took in my childhood.  I think it's great to have a special celebration every ten years on the day when we once again get a zero as the final digit of our age.

For the years seem to pass so quickly now.  Each day is savoured even though it flashes by.  

Annual birthday parties would come around far too often!

Desiderata

 Go placidly amidst the noise and haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence. As far as possible without surrender be on good terms with all persons. Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even the dull and the ignorant; they too have their story.

Avoid loud and aggressive persons, they are vexatious to the spirit. If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain or bitter; for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.

Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans. Keep interested in your own career, however humble; it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.

Exercise caution in your business affairs; for the world is full of trickery. But let this not blind you to what virtue there is; many persons strive for high ideals; and everywhere life is full of heroism.

Be yourself. Especially, do not feign affection. Neither be cynical about love; for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment it is as perennial as the grass.

Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth. Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune. But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings. Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.

Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself. You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here.

And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should. Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be, and whatever your labours and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul. With all its shams, drudgery, and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world. Be cheerful.

Strive to be happy.

Max Ehrman, 1927.

Plan B is (temporarily) Plan A

 

I know this will sound weird to most people, but I found conducting funerals to be one of the most satisfying things I did as a vicar.  Making an awful day a less less awful and giving comfort to someone at a very dark time is a privilege.

I don't take many funerals these days.  I find leading a coffin over ancient churchyards (which are always very uneven underfoot) to be difficult.  I'm not the regular pastor for any village these days and if the regular person is available s/he will take the funeral.  I am truly Plan B.

But sometimes I am asked for by name.  I can only take a funeral with the permission of the regular vicar (or rural dean) but it would be very unusual for anyone to say no - they've got more than enough to do anyway!  For the second time this year that has happened and I feel privileged that I am someone's Plan A.

J died very suddenly a couple of weeks ago and the coroner has been involved so the funeral can't take place for another couple of weeks.  As you know I am retired so I have more time to give care than most clergy would have.  I've visited her husband twice and had several phone calls and will have a lot more contact before (and after) the funeral.  After all, this is personal and professional contact.  

And J is in my prayers.  Her husband is comforted a little by that.  

Bliss!

 

Annie-The-Home-Enhancer came to my home yesterday, her first visit for four weeks.  I went home for a while to make sure she was OK.  Today when I go home (my dog sitting break ends today) the house will be clean and tidy and WONDERFUL!

Annie set up her business several years ago and my cousin's daughter was one of her first clients.  She lives about eight miles from me so I didn't ask her to look after me initially but I was given a cleaning session as a birthday present.  Life-changing!

When she came I asked her if I could be a regular client and she agreed.  Once a fortnight she cleans and together we set the world to rights.  I sit and we chat.  My main job is to make sure there's plenty of coffee.

I was the first person to call her my home enhancer and she loved that so much she has it on her business cards.  She is as much a professional as I am.  If you want someone to conduct worship I'm OK.  But no-one in their right mind would hire me to sort their house.  Annie truly enhances my home and my life.  

Weather

 Nearly four years ago I started to knit a temperature scarf and carried on knitting one stripe a day for two years.  I planned it carefully,   I checked temperatures  for the previous two years and bought thirty different colours, one for each degree Celsius up to 30C, a temperature rarely seen here.  There would be so few days over thirty that it wouldn't matter.

Then on 19th July 2022 had its hottest day ever with 40C being recorded here in Lincolnshire.  I had to buy more colours.  I recorded that single day in white.   

Since that day we have had several days over 30C and yesterday, once again, we hit 31C.  Lower temperatures (still hot but below 30C) are predicted over the next few days.

When I look through my wonderful rose coloured spectacles, I remember summer holidays as a child being hot but never so hot that we had to stay indoors.  How will today's children look back on summer in the 2020's??

Holly Dog writes . . .

My regular staff has gone away for a few days so I have graciously allowed Mary to stay in my house.  She can make herself useful.  I shall make sure of that.

My standards are high.  I expect breakfast at 8am and dinner at 5pm.  I have a super blue bowl with my name on it so she can't pinch it.  I always inspect the meal but often decline breakfast.  I sometimes decline dinner too so my personal chef (Mary) adds extra tempting morsels to persuade me to eat.  Sometimes I do, sometimes I don't.  I like to keep her on her toes.

I am very kind to her at night.  I always get on to her bed to warm it for her.  If she really was appreciative she would let me stay there but she is very selfish so I go on a ledge next to her.  That way I can remind to get up and open the door so I can have a midnight stroll.  

If she comes during the winter she brings a heated throw which I rather like.  She lounges on the sofa with it so I lounge on her.  She hasn't brought it this time so I will just sit on her. 

If she's having a snack I make sure she shares it.  Can't have her putting on weight.  Occasionally I fetch a toy to amuse her and give her some exercise.  I am, as you can see, a very considerate dog and make staff welfare a high priority.  

So tired!

 

I went swimming yesterday. I haven't been for five weeks because of health issues or having other appointments but I was determined to go.

I really enjoy my swim but there are steep steps to get into the pool we hire, so, if my legs are unhappy, I can't swim.  It's a really low cost pool which we hire and quite nice once we get in.  (The other four Monday Mermaids are all fitter than me!)

But yesterday I got there and I swam for about half an hour.  I enjoyed it and felt really good when I got out.  I came home and then the fatigue set in.  I paid for that half hour swimming by three hours in bed, most of it asleep.  

But for all that, I'm so glad I went.  

Jack writes

 Hi, everyone.  

It's about time I did another post.  First, thank you all so much for your kind comments when I rang that bell.  

The Vicar's tomatoes are better than mine.

Now for a more important matter.  The Vicar.  As of late she's been reprimanding me for my use of words in the wrong places.  Maybe I'm not learning all the big words she comes out with.  I feel so inferior so I've learnt a few big words (by that I mean more than four letters) so I can at least fire back on the odd occasion when I can get a word in.  Although we talk every morning for 25-45 minutes, I do well to string five sentences together, and I might get some of the words in the wrong places, e.g. I said I was ravishing when she offered me a Christmas dinner.  She's never let me forget it should be ravenous.  On other occasion I've got things wrong and it always gives her great pleasure to berate me when I'm wrong.  She also gets great pleasure when she wakes me up with her phone call.  That doesn't happen very often.

This year all the stuff I've planted in her garden has done a lot better than the stuff I planted in mine and she always goes out of her way to remind me of that fact.

Saying all that, I must let you know that I would miss our chats in the morning and I'm sure the vicar would too.  

I know it goes against the grain for me to be nice but I've got to admit she's always there for anyone who asks for her help, me included.  I lost my wife and as long as I keep breathing I always be grateful for what she did for me

I hope you all keep well and, if my post has brought a smile to your face,  it will make me happy too.  Laughter is better than pills so once again thanks for all your comments not just to me but to my friend, the vicar.

God bless.

Jack

Sometimes all you can do is smile

move on with your day

hold back the tears

and pretend you're OK.

Bread and wine

Be gentle, when you touch bread,

Let it not be uncared for, unwanted.

So often bread is taken for granted.

There is so much beauty in bread,

Beauty of sun and soil,

Beauty of patient toil.

Winds and rain have caressed it,

Christ often blessed it;

Be gentle when you touch bread.

 

Be loving when you drink wine,

So freely received and joyfully shared

in the spirit of him who cared;

Warm as a flowing river,

Shining as clear as the sun,

Deep as the soil

Of human toil,

The winds and air caressed it,

Christ often blessed it,

Be loving when you drink wine.

(author unknown)

Lidl

I went to Lidl yesterday and got all this loveliness  for the princely sum of £1.50!  All of it is in great condition.

The beetroot has now been boiled and peeled along with a few more from the garden.  The tomatoes (plus some from my garden) have been in the air fryer so I can make puree ready for winter soups.  The broccoli went into the Instapot with more broccoli which I had in the freezer and will also become soup.  The potatoes will probably be saved for those times when I want a quick meal and baked potato would hit the spot.  The lettuces and peppers are in the salad drawer although the peppers might get roasted also for eating in salad.  The pears, oranges and single peach were all in the fruit bowl but the peach has "disappeared"!  

There's little danger that I will starve.

Learning

 

Once a month I go back to Primary School!  No, not liberally, but a primary school teacher does a monthly drawing session on the WI Learning Hub.  And I think my results are the sort of thing her usual pupils would produce.  I'm quite happy with that.  Children's drawings often make me smile!  There are lots of other sessions on the hub for people with varying degrees of artistic ability but this is just fun.  

This week I am also doing a Shakespeare Summer School on Hamlet on the learning hub and next week we move on to Measure for Measure.  Just an hour a day.  Next week there is also a hand embroidery summer school which I will be joining.  All these sessions will be recorded so if I'm busy at the time the live session is streamed, I can watch later.  I've done sessions on using my iPhone, budgetting, decluttering, travel, and much, much more.  

Other than the summer schools, most courses are free for WI members.  

For the oldies (including me!) (Definitely me!)

Those of us who were kids in the 40's, 50's, 60's, probably shouldn't have survived.

Me - ready for anything!

Our cots were covered with bright coloured lead-based paint, the slats were apparently too far apart, and there were no bumper pads.

We had no childproof lids on medicine bottles, doors or cabinets, and when we rode our bikes, we had no helmets. Not to mention the risks we took hitchhiking.

As children, we would ride in cars with no seat belts or air bags.

We drank water from the garden hose and not from a bottle. Horrors!

We sampled cake batter with raw eggs in it, and survived.

We ate cakes, bread and butter, ice cream, and drank pop with sugar in it, but we were not overweight because we were always outside playing.

We would spend hours building our go-carts out of scraps and then rode down the hill, only to find out we had forgotten the brakes. After running into the bushes a few times, we learned to solve the problem.

We would leave home in the morning and play all day, as long as we were back when the street lights came on.

No one was able to reach us all day. No mobile phones. Unthinkable!

We did not have Playstations, Nintendo 64, X-Boxes, no video games at all, no 99 TV channels,  personal computers, or Internet chat rooms. We had friends! We went outside and found them.

We played cricket and football and rounders, and sometimes the ball would really hurt.

We fell out of trees, got cut, and broke bones and teeth, and there were no lawsuits from these accidents. They were accidents. No one was to blame but us. Remember accidents?

We had fights and punched each other and got black and blue and learned to get over it.

We made up games with sticks and tennis balls and ate worms, and although we were told it would happen, we did not poke out very many eyes, nor did the worms live inside us forever.

We rode bikes or walked to a friend's home and knocked on the door.

Not everyone was picked for the school football or netball team. Those who weren't had to learn to deal with disappointment.

Some pupils weren't as bright as others but tests were not adjusted for any reason.

Our actions were our own. Consequences were expected.

The idea of a parent bailing us out if we broke a law was unheard of. They actually sided with the law. Imagine that!

This generation has produced some of the best risk-takers and problem solvers and inventors, ever. The past 50 years have been an explosion of innovation and new ideas.

We had freedom, failure, success and responsibility, and we learned how to deal with it all.

And you're one of them! Congratulations.

(I've had this on my computer for years and have no idea of the source.)

Lily

Memorial lanterns

 Lily was a woman who lived in one of the villages where I was Rector.  She had very unusual features and she told me her mother had been Japanese.  She had few memories of her mother and had been brought up by a stepmother.  

One evening Lily and I were with other friends around a fireside and stories began to be told.  And Lily told us something of her own story.

Her mother's family was originally from Hiroshima but they moved to Tokyo during the war.  In August 1945 they received news of a devastating attack on their home city.

As soon as they could they went back to try and find other family members but with no success.  They went back to Tokyo to mourn their dead.  What they did not know was that they had themselves been contaminated.

Lily's father was British and he met her mother a few years later.  They married and soon Lily was born.  Her parents were so happy.

But before Lily was two, her mother died.  

On this day, I pray for all civilians who are caught up in conflicts they do not understand, and those who still suffer as a result of war.  

Holidays

Sandcastle building

The essentials were packed.  I had strange swimsuits of shirred elasticated fabric.  They seemed to attract sand and became very scratchy.  That was better than the knitted garments inflicted on some children.  I loved to go to the sea to swim or paddle.  We would collect shells on the beach and search for treasures in rock pools.  

But buckets and spades were also needed.  Castle building was taken quite seriously and besides, those buckets were useful for keeping a small fish for the afternoon.  

Until I was about eight we would stay at bed and breakfast places, preferably farmhouses.  Some places would offer an evening meal or we had sandwiches or fish and chip.  As the family became better off we started to go to hotels.   When I was nine we went to Guernsey which involved my first ever flight.  That was far better than the car and even more exciting than a train!

To the seaside: the journey

Some time during the school break we would go on holiday to the seaside.  It was never referred to as the coast, always the seaside.  I remember holidays in Sidmouth, Swanage, Whitby, Bridlington, Cromer.  When I was about eight we went to Cornwall, a journey so long that we took two days in the car.  

The roads were far less busy those days.  Some friends would go on holiday by train and how I envied them!  That seemed much more exciting than the car.  

My parents also suffered in the car, probably even more than we did.  The cry "Are we nearly there?" would start within minutes and continue all day.  There were, of course, no entertainments other than those we made for ourselves.  "Green grow the rushes, O" anyone?

I couldn't read in the car without feeling sick so that was banned.  We would look out of the windows to find a black cow or a green gate.  Red Lion and White Hart pubs were sought and points awarded.  No prizes, just the honour of winning.

Our family had a small stove which ran on methylated spirits so we would find somewhere to stop and fry sausages to be eaten in buns. This was to remind Father of his days in the Boy Scouts.   They were a real treat.  The sandwiches which Mother used to take sometimes were very boring in comparison and the stove and sausages had to come out at least once every holiday. Very occasionally we would buy food en route.  Here I am wearing one such purchase to the amusement of my Mother and sister. 

From Bach to Whitacre

 via Mendelssohn, Faure, Saint-Saens and Rogers and Hammerstein!

 

The audience waits

The C of E has some wonderful buildings but they are seriously underused.  Many have just one service a month - and some even less.  The buildings are much loved by their communities and especially by their congregations, but keeping them open, in use and in good repair, is a challenge, to say the least.

Pi

Pimms await

St Peter's Church serves a population of about fifty at Normanby but they get about twenty to twenty five people at their monthly Communion service.  Some of those worship only at Normanby but most travel to whichever village has a service that day.

soloists

So, yesterday, Claxby Community Choir gave a concert at Normanby.  Claxby is less than a mile away.  The two villages share a village hall but each has its own church.  

The concert was wonderful.  It was just over an hour and we heard music ranging from Bach's composition of 1732 to one of Eric Whitacre's compositions for his virtual choir during the pandemic.  We had four soloists, including a cellist and incredible verve from the conductor and her husband who was also the accompanist.  I was seated in a not-very-convenient part of church so my pictures aren't great - sorry about that.  

And it was followed by Pimm's and strawberries.  Pretty good Sunday afternoon!

A special day

                                    

I used to make the twenty four hours from Friday evening to Saturday evening very distinctive.  I called it my Sabbath.  It began with a special meal, included times of prayer and was marked by solitude.  

The habit largely fell by the wayside during the pandemic but I want to regain it.  So, on Friday I sorted the house to make it a sanctuary of calm.  I wasn't very interested in food as I ate at lunchtime but next time I will have a light lunch and make sure I can enjoy my supper.  A special meal  with a properly set table and candles makes a definite start to the ritual.

Then an evening spent crocheting.  I'm making a blanket for a little boy whom I hardly know but I hear about him regularly, and as I crocheted I prayed for him and his family, then my prayers widened for children everywhere.  Then they moved inwards again as I thought about my own childhood.

A calm evening led to a calm bedtime and a good night's sleep.  

Saturday I settled again to crochet but I listened to an audiobook, enjoyed the quiet and the time to think.  That verse from Browning's poem, "Rabbi Ben Ezra" kept going through my head.  It reflected the tone of the whole period for me.

Grow old along with me!

The best is yet to be,

The last of life, for which the first was made:

Our times are in His hand

Who saith “A whole I planned,

Youth shows but half; trust God: see all, nor be afraid!”

He's been!

Pot placed in a dull bit of garden

 I looked out of my window at 6.55am and saw a man and a dog.  Millie Dog soon came for a treat and a tickle but Jack was a man with a mission.  And a spray.  So he got on with his job.  And Millie sorted me out.

A small corner well used

We had to delay the bacon butty ritual as I was expecting a Sainsbury delivery which arrived about 7.45am so the great man didn't expire from hunger.  Actually, that would be unlikely as he had eaten his first breakfast at home.  The butty was a mere top-up.  Three thick rashers of (butcher's) back bacon in a large bun.  Milly Dog had another treat.  (She'd had her breakfast before she came, too.)

Poppies allowed to grow and Stulch applied

Anyway, the usual whirlwind has been around my garden.  I've been buying Strulch this year (mineralised straw mulch) and Jack thinks it marvellous as it has reduced the need for weeding considerably, it looks good and will bio-degrade.  I am gradually buying shrubs so that there will be less work in future especially as they will be surrounded with Strulch.  

Veg garden.  (Jack - just a few things for planting next time you come!

And then he  did everything else.  He's taken most of the leaves from the tomato plant to encourage the fruits to mature.  He's weeded the non-strulched areas.  He's picked beans (maybe because he fancied a few!) and sweet peas for me.  He's even got a few tomatoes to take home with him.  

How would I manage without Jack!

My beans are better than the one he's grown at home!

The first day of the month

 

December is the most distinctive of all the months but, at least for English children, August is pretty special too.  A whole month of no school stretching out in front of them.  That could either be wonderful or awful, depending on how each one thinks of school.

My schooldays are long gone, but I still have a whole month to enjoy.  Thirty one days to use as I please.

My plans include a little bit of dog sitting.  Holly Dog has sent an invitation.  

I've got three summer schools to attend on line.  That isn't as onerous as it sounds for each is just one hour a day for a whole week.  Two are on Shakespeare and one is hand embroidery.  All are run by the Women's Institute.  I've done several Shakespeare courses before and these two are on Hamlet and Measure for Measure.  

I've got two short courses too, on drawing and journalling.  These are run each month and are very relaxing.  

I'm hoping to swim if my legs are OK.  I miss my mermaid sessions when I can't go.  

I've plans for several meals out with various friends and relations.  Nothing fancy but fish and chips just might feature.  

I've been invited to a seventieth birthday party for a dear friend.  

And in between times I shall relax, knit, crochet, maybe go out for a few days. 

And maybe write a few blog posts too.  

That was July

 

This has felt like a long month but the end of it came in a rush!  These posts are (inevitably) lists and very self-centered but they are helpful to me for looking back.

It's been a lovely month weather wise and my garden is flourishing.  (I'll do a garden post very soon.)   Jack has been twice.

I've taken services on three Sundays.  I've also hosted four on-line services.  

I've had a go at water colour painting and will have another go soon.  I've also done on line courses on Google maps, iPhone usage, and American current affairs, 

I went swimming just once as, unfortunately, I've had several days in pain but am OK now.  

I had a glorious breakfast out.  This is a treat for myself and a cousin when my car needs servicing.  Then she makes lunch at home but we are both too full to eat much!  And another friend and her husband invited me to their house for lunch.   I had a trip to our local ice cream parlour and we had a tasting.  It would have been rude to refuse any of these invitations..  

Now, what will August hold?

The Cooker

Not Mother's but the same era!

When I was a little girl Mother had a cooker.  A gas cooker.  A pre-war jobby and a bit of a monstrosity by today's standards.  Cleaning just the hob (which had to be totally dismantled for the job) seemed to take forever, as I remember.  

She had a big silver kettle on that cooker so she could make tea as needed.  There was an eye level grill, useful for toast.  But that was it.  Everything was cooked on the cooker.

I have a double oven.  And a hob.  Both easy to clean.  And an electric kettle.  And a toaster, rarely used these days as I rarely eat toast.  But I also have a microwave.  And an air fryer.  There's an Instant Pot too as well as a bread maker and a slow cooker.  

And of course I have a fridge, a freezer, food processor, electric whisk, blitzer.  And a dishwasher.  

How on earth did Mother manage?

(I don't know.  But I do know that she bought me my first dishwasher and my first freezer as she was determined that I wouldn't have to do the same as her!)

What's in a name?

I used to be Rector of a hamlet called Spital in the Street.  Sounds revolting but it was originally a Hospital on the Street.  We're talking place of hospitality for travellers going along Ermine Street to the Shrine of St Hugh at Lincoln.  

Lincolnshire has some wonderful place names.  People who went over to America took place names with them.  We have the original Boston.  We've got a New York too.

Comedians seem to like our place names too.  You may have come across Mavis Enderby in Bridget Jones Diary but she has her place in this county.  

And when comedian James Rogers wanted a stage name he chose the name of a Lincolnshire village.  Boothby Graffoe. 

Sad but lovely day

Yesterday I went to Thoresway church to say goodbye to Claire.  

Claire has been in Market Rasen for eight years, first as curate and then as their vicar and has been much loved by all the Market Rasen Group of four parishes.  When the Priest in Charge of the Walesby Group left three years ago he was not replaced so Claire took on a further ten parishes.  She has been the only paid cleric for fourteen parishes for these last two and a half years.  There are a lot of trained ministers (including me) helping her, fortunately!

She said goodbye at Market Rasen last week and The Walesby Group yesterday.  (Last week we clergy took her out for lunch which all of us enjoyed!)  It was an emotional service as she has been very well loved and will be sadly missed but she is going to another parish in this Diocese and will doubtless be much loved there too.

The end of the service was especially emotional and she gave us all God's blessing.  What she didn't know was that E, a non-stipendiary priest in that group and M (that's me!) had planned on sending her off with God's blessing so there were tears as she knelt and we laid our hands on her head.

May her new parishe be as richly blessed through ministry as we have.  

Keeping Sunday special

 It was when I was writing about harvesting going on into the evening until there was no more light that I remembered that Grandad never allowed harvesting on a Sunday.  No matter how things were going, Sunday was a day of rest, at least from arable work.  The animals still had to be fed, milked and cared for, of course.

On Sunday the focus was on the home.  Sunday dinner (lunch) was the culinary highlight of the week.  It was usually roast beef and Yorkshire pudding with vegetables from the garden.  Grandma made the best gravy I have ever tasted.  Even the horseradish sauce was homemade for horseradish was a rather vigorous weed.  

It would be followed by a fruit pie, apple, rhubarb or plum.  These were the fruits grown in the garden so those were the fruits we ate.  It was served with cream from the farm cows.  

For my grandparents tinned food was a rarity and grandma would open a small tin of salmon and make sandwiches for Sunday tea.  There would be home made plum bread (a Lincolnshire fruit loaf), cakes, pastries and a purchased Swiss roll, again a special pleasure for grandad.

After tea we would go to the little chapel in the village.  My grandparents were Methodists.  It was a bit of an ordeal for me as any children present were expected to sing a hymn to be listened to by the adults and I never knew the hymns chosen for us.

I was happy to go to chapel though, as I knew that after chapel we would go to Cleethorpes for a walk along the front and a local ice cream.   

Summer Holidays

 I've been thinking about those week long holidays spent at my grandparents' farm.  I know I'm looking though rose coloured spectacles but they are the only ones I've got!

Very similar to "our" farm

I used to stay with them most school holidays but summer holidays were the best.  It was extra good if I could go towards the end of the holiday when harvest would have started.

The farm was "mixed" as most were in Lincolnshire in those days.  There were cattle being fattened as beef, sheep, a few pigs and a lot of arable fields.  They grew wheat and barley as well as crops used for winter cattle fodder like mangold wurzels.  It's the wheat and the barley I remember most.

Barley is harvested before wheat and back in the fifties it was a much more labour intensive business than it is today.  My grandfather was in partnership with his brother, and their sons and grown-up grandsons (as well as the regular labourers) would do their best to be there to help get the harvest home.  I can remember the harvesting machines making sheaves which were stacked into stooks to finish drying before being taken down to the yard for threshing.  The terriers resident on the farm had a great time killing the rats which had been hiding in the crops.

Building stooks

Harvesting would go on until the light was too poor so, although the men came to the yard for lunch, a picnic tea of sandwiches, cold tea and cake had to be taken to the fields.  That was my favourite bit of the harvest!  In retrospect I think grandad probably enjoyed this break with us (one of my cousins would also be there with his dad) and our chatter was a welcome diversion.  I hope so.

When tea was finished we were allowed to cadge a lift on the next tractor going back to the yard, having had a lovely afternoon in the fields.