A mild morning at sunrise
It was marked on the calendar but we had hoped it wouldn’t happen
Although Wisp had visited Billy goat Archie three weeks ago (and they seemed to like each other) she had not gotten pregnant. She will come into season three weeks hence and we will take her over to meet with Archie once more. Out in the field the twins are doing well and enjoying exploring.
Hooray – nails, teeth but no hairdresser
Snow delayed my trip to mum on Tuesday. I saw her today and she had fresh nail polish
And, miraculously, her dental plate fits again so she can smile!
Such a busy (and poignant) day
The hens are laying a dozen a day so I was glad to be able to give some to friends in the village
I walked with one companion and we met (at a goodly distance) many others out enjoying the mild air
When I returned home Di, who was working here, had a cuddle with the lambs before leaving
It seems that Nugget, the hen, has begun to crow and is a cockerel!
When I was walking with my companion we talked about Holocaust Memorial Day (today) and on my return home I watched a link that my childhood friend had sent to me while I was out
My friend’s mother survived Auschwitz and the death march and the link above is the extraordinary story of her close friend. A story of luck and strength and survival and gratitude for small acts of kindness and great acts of bravery along the way. It is more amazing and terrifying than any movie plot.
When I had finished wiping my eyes I went outside to see Perky and her lambs who are now enjoying fresh air and freedom
On this day I also want to thank St Andrew’s Church in Bedford who organized a sensitive zoom service last Sunday to commemorate Holocaust Memorial Day. They remembered, too, more recent genocides in Rwanda and Bosnia and encouraged everyone to show compassion for present day refugees and asylum seekers. I was pleased to be able to participate and to light a candle along with the Church congregants. May all good people be a light in the darkness for the world.
Rising sun through trees as snow disappears
Salads in midwinter
Chinese leaves and spring onions from the poly tunnel
A “tail” of two lambs
Born Sunday night, up and about and feeding well and today it’s time to “dock” the lambs’ tails.
It doesn’t hurt and in a few weeks the longest part of the tail will drop off due to a constricted blood supply. If we leave a “long tail” in place there is the risk of fly strike in summer. Blow flies settle on mucky tails and lay their eggs and then the hatched maggots burrow into the sheep. It’s horrible and having had fly strike some years before (luckily Farmer Rob rushed over and cut out the maggots and sprayed all the flock) we don’t want to take any chances.
Snow walking – it’s hard work
But so beautiful.
Along the footpath I met (by chance and at a goodly distance) with the beautiful Weimarana, Amber, and her companion Harry and their “human carers”.
New day, new life
The boy is named Marcus (after Saint Marcus Rashford) and the girl is called Lucia (the name of the Saint’s companion). They were also named in honour of a cup victory last night when Manchester United beat Liverpool. A double celebration.
Another year, another candle and sweet memories
In bygone years my mother would have lit the memorial candle to commemorate the anniversary of her father’s passing. Now that mum is 93 years old and being cared for in a Home, I light the candle to remember and honour my grandpa Charles.
Charles’ parents arrived on these shores from Vilnius, Lithuania in 1896. One baby daughter in arms was with them and was soon followed by another girl and in 1900 a son, my grandpa. They joined family who had begun small businesses, one relative lived above his jewellery repair shop and another ran a hairdressing shop in the Edgware Road. My great grandparents opened a barber shop in Cable Street near the docks in the East End of London and they lived there with their three children Cissie, Bertha and Charles. Charles’ sister, Cissie, was an excellent piano player who used to accompany silent movies at the cinema. She married a “wrong ‘un” who was a drunkard, always losing jobs and disappearing for long periods without explanation. Eventually Cissie and her only child returned to live with Charles’ mother and Cissie’s husband was never heard from again.
At age 17 Charles enlisted in the army but, luckily, this coincided with the end of the Great War and he did not have to fight.
Charles was introduced to my grandma Anne by mutual friends of their parents. It was an immediate love match and they supported each other through hard times and good with complete devotion.
Grandpa Charles was too sweet natured to succeed in business and the small dowry that was gifted to him when he married Anne was soon gone. Both Charles and Anne worked whilst bringing up their only child, my mother, and throughout my childhood they worked together running a cousin’s wholesale business until she sold the premises and they took retirement.
My mother was evacuated to Oxford during the first part of the Second World War. When she returned to live with her parents Charles and his daughter “dug for victory” and planted tomatoes and other vegetables in the garden of their rented rooms. Charles also joined the home guards and patrolled the streets of St Albans, where they lived until the war ended.
When mum met my dad Charles accepted her fiancée and made him welcome
My father, his son in law, had great respect for Charles and appreciated that his father in law never interfered in his life whilst giving him and my mother love and support. By the time my brother and I were toddlers we lived in a block of flats opposite my grandparents Anne and Charles. My parents had instant babysitters that they could trust and who helped to bring us up.
We, as children, were the lucky recipients of the love and care and attention that we were given, almost unconditionally, from Charles and Anne. We had to behave and be well mannered but in return we could visit them as often as we liked, we were taught to play cards, were listened to and given pocket money, taken for weekly outings to the Queen Mary Rose Gardens in Regents Park. We rode in grandpa Charles’ meticulously polished and spotlessly clean Ford Anglia. Grandpa watched wrestling with us and rugby too – though I doubt he told us the wrestling was fixed nor did he teach us the rules of rugby (if he knew them). When we walked in the street he always doffed his hat to a woman and walked on the kerbside if he was walking next to me. When I passed my driving test he showed tremendous faith and nerve as I drove him around Hyde Park Corner. I never knew how we survived that journey but he said nothing to dent my confidence. Above all Charles was a loyal and living husband. He cared for Anne in every way, especially as she was crippled with arthritis for many, many years. He did most of the cooking as she couldn’t stand for long, he drove her everywhere (although he had never taken a driving test) and he never wanted more than to be able to live a quiet and decent life with his small family being visited by and visiting his sisters and sisters-in law and their spouses.
When, on Friday, I asked my grandson about school and his favourite subject he replied, “history”. “Ah yes” I said, “you get that from my grandpa Charles who also loved history and history books. And it’s his yahrzeit on Sunday!” He, in his quiet, decent, humble way lives on through so many memories and into the next generation and the one beyond. May his memory be for a blessing.
