Pru

Writing about Alzheimer's disease yesterday brought to mind the death of Prunella Scales this week.  She was a wonderful actress (Sybil Fawlty amazed me) but she has had Alzheimer's for many years.  The courage shown by her and Timothy West, her late husband, when they spoke publicly about that terrible disease has been stunning.

She and Timothy West were married over sixty years until he sadly predeceased her not quite a year ago, having cared for her for many years.  He'd noticed that something wasn't quite right as early as 2001.  

She was a wonderful narrator of audiobooks.  Her reading of "Cranford" has long been one of my favourite bedtime stories.  She had just the right voice to read E F Benson's "Mapp and Lucia" books and I also enjoyed her renditions of some of the "Fairacres" stories by Miss Read.  I'm so glad that I will be able to continue to listen to her gentle but wonderfully clear voice.

Losing a friend

I've known J since both of us were children.  My parents were friends of her parents.  She's seven years older than me (a big gap when we were children, not so much now) but we both have fond memories of childhood.  

We saw little of each other for about thirty years but when we made contact again we were able to pick up the threads and laugh about our memories.  For years we have met for lunch two or three times a year.  Last year I was a little uneasy: something was wrong.

Earlier this year she had the devastating news that she has Alzheimer's disease.  She's having treatment to slow the advance of the disease but it is incurable.  She's aware that her memory is slipping and she realises that sometimes she may behave strangely but she's OK with being "managed".  Her husband was unhappy at the idea of her driving to a meeting point (we live about forty miles apart) so I decided to go to her and take her to a pub near her village.  We've done that three times this year and it is still a thoroughly enjoyable lunch we share.

Yesterday we were chatting about old friends and members of our extended families.  She asked after my sister G and I had to remind her gently that she came to G's funeral fifteen years ago.  It was painful for both of us but after a few moments sadness our conversation carried on.

We arranged to meet again early in the New Year.  I don't want to leave it long.  I know my friend is slipping away and I want us to make the most of each other for as long as we can.  

Companions

I'm going out for lunch today.  It's one of several meals out associated with my birthday, which was last week.

Eating out is one of the things which has changed hugely over my lifetime.  My parents used to go out for dinner occasionally.  I was taken to restaurants for lunch, often on Bank Holidays, as an encouragement for good table manners.  Eating out for most people was a very definite treat, if it happened at all.  Indeed one of my friends remembers eating out as an ordeal because everyone was so tense on the rare occasions it happened.

Looking at my diary this month (OK a special month for me) I've been out for coffee and a "schmackerel" three times,  afternoon tea at a tea-room with a couple of cousins, breakfast twice, brunch once and I have two lunches out still to go.  And then there was an afternoon tea to celebrate a 95th birthday, two harvest suppers, and lunch at a cousin's home.

I suspect I eat out more frequently than most people  because I live alone and most of my friends live at least ten miles away, but the proliferation of tea rooms, restaurants and dining areas in pubs suggests I am not alone.  

I love the word "companion" which has at its root the idea of people with whom one eats bread.  Not only do I love the word, I love my companions too.  

Hibernaculum

Maulifuff is a word which has definitely grabbed me, but another word I want to appropriate is hibernaculum.  It's what Roman soldiers used to call their winter quarters but these days it also means or a place for over-wintering plants, or the lair of a wintering animal.   The web has lots of information on building hibernacula for wild animals but I want to use the word for the lair of a wintering Mary.

I've acquired a new fireplace which has certainly made my sitting room feel more cosy.  I won't be using real candles but I hope to acquire more LED jobbies.  Last year I treated myself to a heated throw which will soon be in use.  It's not only cosy, it's also a very energy conscious way of keeping warm.  

My next task will be to tackle the dining room so I can use it as a sewing room.  I'm not the only person who uses "spare" rooms as dumping ground but I am pretty good at it.  My hibernaculum can't just be pretty and cosy: come the spring I want to know that I have used the time well.  

Hail, fellow maulifuffs!

Maulifuff - a woman who appears to keep herself busy but achieves nothing

Following Saturday's flood of enrolments in the Maulifuff Sisterhood, I feel we need a few suggestions for activities.  Here's a few to set the ball rolling.

1.  Write a to-do list and then lose it.

2.    Start a blog post but don't finis

Thank you

 "Trees"

I think that I shall never see

A poem lovely as a tree.

A tree whose hungry mouth is prest

Against the earth's sweet flowing breast;

A tree that looks at God all day,

And lifts her leafy arms to pray;

A tree that may in Summer wear

A nest of robins in her hair;

Upon whose bosom snow has lain;

Who intimately lives with rain.

Poems are made by fools like me,

But only God can make a tree.

Joyce Kilmer.

 

Thank you to all bloggers who "follow" a tree and help the rest of us to look at it.

Winter words

 

I don't think I suffer from cheimaphobia but I will plead guilty to brumation.  It happens and sometimes slips into clinomania: most of the time I resist duvet days.  I could perhaps be justly described as a maulifuff: in fact it would often be true, but as no-one around me knows the word, I am safe, as far as I know.  

Glossary

Maulifuff - a woman who appears to keep herself busy but achieves nothing

Cheimaphobia - a fear or intense dislike of the winter

Brumation - wintertime sluggishness.

Clinomania -  an excessive desire to lie down

Birthdays

Yesterday was my birthday - my seventy fourth, if you want to know.  And it set me thinking about my birthdays sixty to seventy years ago.

These days it often seems as though time flies and a decade passes in the time it took to get through a year all that time ago.  Birthdays were very special events, eagerly anticipated, excitedly prepared for. 

At infants' school there was a birthday cake.  It wasn’t edible, just a round tin covered in a white substance (plaster?) and decorated with candles to be blown out by the birthday boy or girl as the rest of the class sang, “Happy Birthday”. 

I would have a birthday party and special tea to which I could invite six friends.  Mother would buy a packet of six invitations which was a cunning way  of making sure only six friends could be invited.  My parties were usually all girls who would arrive in best party frocks with pretty ribbons in their hair.  She would bake a special cake, not the character cakes of today but a cake decorated with the appropriate number of candles and maybe "hundreds and thousands" or Smarties.

There would also be sandwiches which were cut on the diagonal as a special treat.  I have no idea why diagonally cut sandwiches tasted better but Mother had me convinced that it was so!  Sausage rolls were also mandatory as was either a trifle or jelly and blancmange. 

Then games.  Musical chairs, pass the parcel, blind man’s buff.  When Father came home from work he would come and play with us too.  At the end of the party each child would go home with a single gift, maybe a pencil or a packet of sweets, not the party bags of today.  Oh, and everyone took a slice of cake wrapped in a paper napkin.

And I would go up to bed, probably planning next year’s birthday. 

Back home

I’ve just done a couple of days dog sitting which I love, but it’s great to be back at home!  Looking around me there’s chaos, but Annie-the-home-enhancer is coming later so it will be wonderful! There’s something magical about being at home.   

There is peace in my home — no pressure to impress, no need to rush. It’s where I can recharge, daydream, and rediscover small joys: a warm blanket, my knitting, a good audiobook, or the rooks cawing in the trees nearby.

Here I can thrive.  Here is the magical place where I can hear myself think.  I can talk out loud to myself if I want to.  I can be really lazy and there’s no-one to judge.  I can get to know myself a little better and I think I am pretty good company. 

Hope you love your home as much as I love mine. 

Feeling excited

 

I've booked a cruise!  I haven't cruised since 2009 when I went to see New England in the Fall.  I'd promised my Mother that I would use some of the money she left me to take a special holiday and when I saw that one which started on my birthday and was aboard Queen Mary II, I felt it had my name on it!

And I've wanted another cruise since I retired but the finances, covid, my health and everything else, made choosing very complicated.  I can't fly/cruise because I need to take quite a bit of stuff to cope with my disability.   I saw a cruise to Canada, the North West Passage, Greenland and Iceland which I really fancied but at the time I couldn't get all the ducks into a row.  And it hasn't been offered since.

But it made me think about visiting the Arctic Circle.  And when I saw a cruise advertised to see the coast of Norway and sail to at least 78 degrees north, I decided to go.  (The Arctic Circle is 66 degrees north.)  I've lived in the tropics: now I want to go as far north of the equator as I can.  

It's not until 2027 so I have a lot of time to feel excited.  The anticipation will help my wintering.  

(And yes, I do realise that the clip art is of the Antarctic, not the Arctic!  But I liked it.)

Wintering

I make no secret of the fact that I often struggle through the winter.  Next weekend the clocks go back so winter will definitely be here.  Next Monday sunset will be around 4.40pm so the curtains will be closed against the night.

I've long had a rather negative attitude to winter.  It's been a season to be endured, the foil which makes spring all the lovelier.  "Influencers" go on about getting outside and going for healthy walks but that's not practical for someone who isn't as steady as she might be on her pins.  I'm not a great one for candles (these days I just use LED ones) and a long soak in a hot bath can't happen.  If I drank as many hot chocolates with all the trimmings as "they" advise, the cholesterol, weight and blood pressure would soar.  Not a pretty thought.

But maybe there is another way, a way even I could find.  Maybe winter could be enjoyed.  After all the Scandinavian countries regularly top the happiness tables and they have some really rough winters.  

So this winter I want to explore what I can do, rather than regret what I can't do.  What things can I do better in winter?  Are there things to be enjoyed in the long winter evenings which can't be savoured so well in the summer?

Somewhere to hang my stocking

When I first moved into this house, nearly sixteen years ago, there was a truly hideous gas fire with a huge brick fireplace in the sitting room.  It came out the first day I had possession!

I then bought a neat little electric fire with glowing pebbles to imitate flames.  That was nice but eventually it died and for the last few years I have had no fireplace or fire at all in my sitting room, just relying on the central heating.

I really missed having a fire, especially at Christmas as there was nowhere to hang a stocking!  So, I've been looking various suppliers and last week I treated myself.  

I feel it is a good addition to my hibernaculum  which will become more howffy.

(Hibernaculum and howffy are both described in this post)

Dust if you must

 

Dust if you must...

 

Dust if you must,

but it might be better,

to paint a picture or write a letter,

to bake a cake or plant a seed,

to ponder the gap between want and need,

Dust if you must,

but there's not much time,

with rivers to swim and mountains to climb,

music to hear and books to read,

friends to cherish and life to lead,

Dust if you must,

but the world's out there,

with sun in your eyes, and wind in your hair,

a flutter of snow, a shower of rain,

this day will NOT come around again,

Dust if you must,

but bear in mind,

old age will come and it mightn't be kind,

and when you go, and go you must,

YOU, yourself, will make more dust! 

Rose Milligan

 

How's it going?

 

It's four weeks since  started on the physio course so I am reporting in.

I had my third session yesterday.  I'm not doing weekly sessions but rather at longer intervals so I get more chance to do more exercise between sessions.  It was actually two weeks since my last session and the next appointment won't be for three weeks as Fay (the physiotherapist) is taking a holiday. 

And it's going quite well.  I have about a dozen exercises to do twice a day at home and they are getting harder after each session with Fay.  Yesterday she asked me to get some ankle weights to use at home and that feels serious!  It may feel daunting when they arrive.  She's been impressed with the things I have been doing for years to try and keep myself functionally fit.  

I am beginning to feel the benefit of my efforts.  I was sitting on a rather low sofa a couple of days ago and I got up fairly easily.  

But I still haven't tackled the biggest challenge - getting up from the floor!  Maybe by the end of my course . . .

Playground games

 I think I have just about finished this series of posts about childhood in the 1950's but I can't go without talking about playground games.  They were so important!

The commonest game for girls was skipping, either alone or in a group with two people turning a long rope.  Ropes were most often cut from a washing line which had been repaired just too often.  My Mother favoured plastic covered washing lines which gave a very satisfactory sound when they hit the tarmac of the playground.  There were skipping rhymes too, handed down among generations of girls (boys didn't join in, they just played endless football).  

At certain times of the year "two ball" was the preferred game.  One of my aunts was a keen tennis played and she often gave me old tennis balls.  There were so many ways to play two ball: underarm, overarm, with or without a bounce against a wall, up into the air, alternating different throws.

In the autumn conkers came to the fore and that was popular with both boys and girls.  It could get quite vicious in ways which I suspect wouldn't be allowed these days.  Collecting conkers was a popular pastime in itself.

Then two came along at once.

 Before I went to the candle decorating session on Saturday, it had been quite a long time since I had been to a craft workshop but yesterday I went to another, this time for needle felting.

I don't really like needle felting (I don't like wet felting either) but the group needed to make up the numbers so I went.  It was the usual chatty sort of thing and we all made poppies.

And we had coffee and various home made cakes.

And we planned a pre-Christmas lunch together.

And I brought home a felted poppy.  

All very lovely.

But I still don't like needle felting.

School dinners

I had a school dinner every day from when I started school until I completed my fifth form at Grammar School.  Throughout primary school the cost was one shilling - five pence in today's money!  The price increased in my secondary school days but I don't think it was ever more than 1/6. 

Most days there was some sort of meat, potatoes, vegetables and gravy followed by a pudding with custard.  That was the basic idea.

Meat could be a meat pie, or braised liver, or stew or sausages or maybe roast meat.  Vegetables would be cabbage, or carrots, or butterbeans, or tinned peas, or swede and carrots.

Puddings were often milk puddings (tapioca, sago, rice) but could also be traditional English puds like Bakewell tart, Manchester tart, or steamed pudding.  We might also have stewed fruit or fruit crumble.  

On Friday fish appeared, fried, baked or poached in milk.  There would be a salad sometime although I have still never worked out why salads included cold baked beans.

Everything was washed down with water.  And everybody had to try everything.

Considering we'd also had milk half way through the morning, I think it could be said that we didn't go hungry!

It would never be allowed today!

 I was looking through some old photographs and I found this one, taken over sixty years ago.  It shows Mother my sister and me, all at Stonehenge.  We'd never be allowed to do this today!

And I thought of so many things which were normal in my childhood which would never be allowed today.

After my first week at school aged four I used to walk there and back alone.  It would never be allowed today.

I never had a special child seat in a car and neither did my parents wear seatbelts.  (There weren't any.) I never wore a safety helmet when riding my bike.  It would never be allowed today.

Bayko

The air in cinemas and theatres was stale with tobacco smoke.  Children were often sent to the shops to buy cigarettes for their parents.  Children had sweet cigarettes.  It would never be allowed today.

We were sent out in the morning during the school holidays and told "Be home by tea time"  It would never be allowed today.  

One of my favourite toys as a child was "Bayko".  See those steel rods sticking up?  It would never be allowed today.

Come to that remember toys, cots, everything else, being painted with lead paint?  It would never be allowed today.

How did we survive?

A Short Course

 

The Lincolnshire Humber Federation of Women's Institutes has started a new monthly craft session, so on Saturday I went to a candle decorating workshop.  

One of the best things about mornings like this is the opportunity to chat.  I went alone as no-one else from Brigg WI wanted to go, but I soon got chatting to two ladies, both called Jo, from a nearby village.  The world had been set to rights by the end of the session!

This form of candle decorating is a bit fiddly.  Pictures are cut from paper napkins, then the top layer of the napkin is peeled off and melted into the candle using a heat gun.  

Many ladies chose Christmas designs but I wanted something which could be used at any time of the year so I chose a bird and blossoms.  

Best wishes to my Canadian readers on your Thanksgiving Day.

Blessings

 

You're blessed when you're at the end of your tether. With less of you there is more of God and his rule.

You're blessed when you feel you've lost what is most dear to you. Only then can you be embraced by the One most dear to you.

You're blessed when you're content with just who you are -- no more, no less. That's the moment you find yourself proud owner of everything that can't be bought.

You're blessed when you've worked up a good appetite for God. He's food and drink in the best meal you'll ever eat.

You're blessed when you care. At the moment of being full of cares you find yourself cared for.

You're blessed when you get your inside world -- your mind and your heart -- put right. Then you can see God in the outside world.

You're blessed when you can show people how to cooperate instead of compete or fight. That's when you discover who you really are, and your place in God's family.

You're blessed when your commitment to God provokes persecution. The persecution drives you deeper into God's kingdom.

Not only that-count yourself blessed every time people put you down or throw you out or speak lies about you to discredit you. What it means is that the truth is too close for comfort and they are uncomfortable. You can be glad when that happens-give a cheer, even!-for though they don't like it, I do! And all heaven applauds. And know that you are in good company. My prophets and witnesses have always got into this kind of trouble. 

Sweets

 Still thinking about childhood, I've moved on to sweets.  What child wouldn't?  

We didn't get a lot of sweets but sweet rationing ended in 1953.  It had been lifted in 1949 but had to be imposed again after just four months because demand exceeded supply.

So many goodies from those days are no longer available.   I loved Spangles in all their manifold flavours.  Recently a Blogger (Sue?) mentioned sweet cigarettes. They made us feel very grown up as we pretended to smoke them.  I'm very glad they are no longer sold!  

Cadbury's had a very wide range of chocolate bars.  The ordinary mlk chocolate was available in 1d, 2d, 3d and 6d bars.  There may have been bigger bars but not on the shelves which tempted a primary school aged me.  They also sold 6d bars in a wide range of flavours: I can remember strawberry, orange, and lemon but I think there were far more.  

I remember Milky Way being introduced at 3d, much more affordable than a Mars Bar at 6d.  They were "The sweet you can eat between meals without ruining your appetite".  

Some sweets have been renamed - I think Lion Bars were called Picnic Bars and Snickers were called Marathon.  

Come on, which sweeties can you remember from childhood?

Early childhood

Writing about going shopping with my Mother made me think about my early childhood.  Most children seventy years ago spent their lives at home with mum.  Later on, children would go playgroups and pre school, but not those of us who are now top side of seventy.  I was nearly nine years younger than my only sister so most days it was just mummy and me at home.

Housework was hard work.   We had open fires which created mess.  When I was small we had no fridge so Mother had to go to the butcher's and greengrocer's very frequently.  She sewed or knitted all my clothes (other than the hand-me-downs).  She did quite a lot of gardening and we had a very large garden.  There were few convenience foods and she made both the bread and the jam to go on it.  

After lunch she would settle in her arm chair to do her knitting or mending and I would sit behind her in her chair whilst she knitted.  I loved wearing the ball bands as bracelets.  I wasn't so keen on having my arms pressed into service when she wanted to wind a skein of wool into a ball.

Unusually, we had a TV from before I was born.  There was just one channel which had very limited hours of broadcasting but early each afternoon there was a fifteen minute programme called "Watch with Mother".  We watched "Picture Book" on Mondays, "Andy Pandy" on Tuesdays, "The Flowerpot men on Wednesdays, "Rag, Tag and Bobtail" on Thursdays and "The Woodentops" on Fridays.  "The Woodentops" was my favourite!

The Changing Face of Shopping

 Each Wednesday when I was a little girl, Mother and I would walk around to Mr Todd's shop.  There Mother would shop for such things as flour, butter, tinned goods (not many of those), biscuits and the like.  And we'd go home without anything!  The reason?  Mr Todd would send the delivery boy with all the things Mother had chosen.  

I remembered being totally amazed the first time I went with her to a supermarket and she helped herself to items from the shelves and nobody stopped her!

She also went "into town" several days each week.  She'd go to Marshall's for meat, Fishers for baked goods (not many of those as she baked at home), and Shipley's for the fruit and vegetables not grown at home.  On Tuesdays the fishmonger would call.  

But she had to shop several times a week.  I remember the excitement when I was about six and we got our first fridge.  That was a total transformation as she could shop for several days supplies of perishable goods.  

Once a month Sainsbury delivers my groceries.  In one way it's like Mother used to shop.  She had to go to Todd's but the groceries were delivered.  My groceries are delivered but I don't need to go to a shop.  I need a monthly delivery as I'm a bit slow and I worry about the frozen foods.  I use Lidl on the other weeks. 

But I am making much more effort to support a local butcher and the farm shops.

One week of Plan B

 As I have said before, I regard myself as a permanent Plan B and October is definitely a Plan B month.  

On Sunday there were Harvest Festivals in quite a few churches so ministers had to be found for the churches which would normally have had their monthly service that day.  (Harvest Festivals are village events as well as church events so we need to fit in with village plans which often include a harvest supper or lunch.)  I was needed to take Morning Prayer.  

I am dog sitting this week so yesterday I needed a Plan B myself for someone to host a zoom.  

Today I am on stand-by as another priest may have to have her dog euthanised so may not be in a fit state to lead worship.  I shall make myself available as long as she needs.

Friday is another Harvest Festival and I have offered to preach as the minister conducting the service will have done about eight harvest festivals already.  I rather like that service as they have a brilliant harvest supper!

And that is just one week of being Plan B.  

Zoom!

 I really got into zoom meet-ups during lock down.  I really found it weird but five years on, I find it great.  I can chat “face to face” with people I’ve known for ever but no longer live nearby.  Today I’ve got a chat with S in Leicester.

We used to meet twice a year for lunch and we still do, but we can zoom every month and it is brilliant.  We talk about her grandchildren, my wandering, her photography, my crafting, and culinary experiments (always exciting) from both of us

S and I have a friendship which is like a personal time capsule.  I babysat her older boys while she went to hospital for the birth of the third.  She got excited with me when I was ordained.  We both have memories of wearing some pretty dodgy outfits, even though we thought we were the bee’s knees when we wore them!  “Remember when” is a favourite phrase.

We both look respectable on zoom but we each know that the other is probably sitting in the midst of chaos and we don’t care.  The top half of the outfit may be smart but we won’t even mention what we might be wearing below the waist.

That’s real friendship magic—being known fully and loved anyway.

Talking to God

 

I asked God to take away my habit.  God said, No. It is not for me to take away, but for you to give it up.

 I asked God to make my handicapped child whole.  God said, No. His spirit is whole, his body is only temporary

I asked God to grant me patience.   God said, No. Patience is a by-product of tribulations; it isn't granted, it is learned.

 I asked God to give me happiness.  God said, No. I give you blessings; Happiness is up to you.

 I asked God to spare me pain.  God said, No. Suffering draws you apart from worldly cares and brings you closer to me.

 I asked God to make my spirit grow.  God said, No. You must grow on your own! but I will prune you to make you fruitful.

 I asked God for all things that I might enjoy life.  God said, No.  I will give you life, so that you may enjoy all things.

 I ask God to help me LOVE others, as much as He loves me.  God said...Ahhhh, finally you have the idea.

 

THIS DAY IS YOURS DON'T THROW IT AWAY

 

May God Bless You, "To the world you might be one person, but to one person you just might be the world"

 

(Arch)Bishop Sarah

When I first worked for the church women couldn't be priests.  We had to have male incumbents in authority over us.  No matter how strongly we felt our call to priesthood was, the church couldn't/wouldn't ordain us.  (It was the laity, often women, who were the strongest opponents.)

Then things began to change.  In 1992 the General Synod of the Church of England voted (by a two thirds majority in each of three houses) to allow our ordinations.  It took a year and a half for that to pass into law and happen.

I was priested in 1994.  Women priests faced a lot of petty discrimination at that time.  All of us had to deal with childish behaviour.  

Last year "the 1994 cohort" was invited to a reception at Lambeth Palace and a service at St Paul's Cathedral to celebrate our thirtieth anniversaries.  Joining us were several women bishops, including Sarah Mullaly, the Bishop of London.

Speaking to our cohort Bishop Sarah said "Because you did what you did, I can do what I do."  

Yesterday she was named as the new Archbishop of Canterbury.  I feel very happy that I was part of the huge change which has happened.  And I pray for her as she prepares to take up her new role.

Holly Dog here

 

I hope you are all well.  I am and I'm making sure it stays that way.

Mary has come again.  I've heard rumours that she thinks that her stays in my house are holidays.  Well, she can forget that.  She's here to make sure I'm more than OK.

I don't mind her coming and I suggested to the regular staff that Mary should have her own room as she comes quite often.  It was decided that the study could be converted into a bedroom for her.  I'm quite proud of that idea: the study has French windows out into the garden so I can nip out during the night when once I can wake her.  I even organised a sign for the door!  The other advantage is that we now have a decent sized bed downstairs so I don't have to go upstairs for a human sized bed to snooze on.  

I've got Mary worried that I will miss the regular staff and be unhappy whilst she is caring for me so she always beings some rather nice roast chicken to mix with my kibble.  I get chicken sometimes when Mary isn't here but always when she is here.  I've got her very well trained.  

What will October hold?

I have no idea why we drew an artichoke for October in my on-line drawing club but an artichoke is what we drew.  

Yesterday I started a nine night dog sitting session with Holly Dog.  It's a sort of holiday but I continue to live my normal life so I can still do many of the things I would do if I were at home.

October is the month for harvest festivals and harvest suppers so I'm going to a few of those including preaching at one.

I've got a few meet-ups with friends organised and one friend has invited me for a meal which she will cook so I'm looking forward to that.  

I'm hoping to get more of my Christmas preparations done, some of them while I am staying with Holly as Holly's mum has a dedicated craft room filled with crafter's toys.   Yay!

That looks a rather "thin" month but I have no doubt that other things will happen.  

It's Lincolnshire Day!

 

Special greetings to all Yellow Bellies!

Lincolnshire Day has existed only since 2006.  1st October is the anniversary of the Lincolnshire Rising in 1536.  The locals were none too happy about the establishment of the Church of England and the vicar of Louth inspired a mob which eventually included about 22,000 people, including a contingent from Caistor.  It lasted just a few days.  The ringleaders were later hung, drawn and quartered.

So, moving on from the rising, let's celebrate this lovely county.  I live on The Wolds, one of its prettiest parts.   I shall be having Lincolnshire sausages for lunch today.  I might see if I can find a plum loaf when I go to Brigg.  I could also have stuffed chine or even savoury ducks, so beloved by Jack.

The Lincolnshire flag has two blue quarters and two green quarters, representing our coast and broad acres respectively.  The red cross of St George (England) is bordered with yellow for Yellow Bellies and topped with a fleur de lis for the city of Lincoln.

Have a great day!