That was a bad decision

 Yesterday was a nondescript day - raining steadily half the day, but I did get a walk in along the old railway line in town.  

As you can see, it was very dreary.

The first Canada Geese have arrived though. A sign of spring, as were the first fledgling leaves on the Elder bushes.  Spring was a bit further along in Carmarthenshire, as the first leaves were on the Hawthorns, lots and lots of Daffodils out, two sprigs of Cow Parsley in flower on the lane up to P&D's house, and amazingly, I passed a solitary Cowslip in a sheltered spot.

This was the problem with my sewing machine.  I removed the thread carefully with a pair of tweezers but think it must be doing the same again to have jammed once more.

I have done a bit of long-overdue vacuuming, and listened to my body and had an afternoon nap, before doing a bit more on my Hobbs/Russill/Allsop line on my family tree.  Poor Elizabeth, my g. grandmother - to give birth to 9 children and bury 7 of them . . .  She and my g.grandfather had such big hearts, as they even adopted a little boy when they were in their early 70s.  I don't know if he was actually related, though I presume so.  I have found a Hobbs/Gregory marriage which could fit.  

I then made an error, having been seeing what else Youtube had to offer, and it came up with Marvin Gaye.  I loved his music, back in the day, so put that on.  Then it started playing other 60s music - Keith and I both loved it - and then came the tears.  Thinking we would never listen to it together again.  More tears just writing that. . .

On the plus side, I was looking for my little bag which I take on walks, that had fallen into the brass bound barrel in the kitchen.  At the bottom I found a vintage Jecta Mark I fishing reel on a cork handle, which Keith had found many years ago at a car boot sale.  I will take it to the next Fair, as it has a little value - £20 or £30 I think.  I also found a very vintage kennel huntsman's or beagling whip, worth more than I had on it when it last saw day pre Covid!  So, bonuses.

Now I need to go down to town to get some change for Malvern Flea tomorrow.  We have sunshine so I may try to clear the space to plant the Glen Ample raspberries.  Update: I cleared 5 areas of grass and tried to clear most of the grass in between too, planted the 5 raspberries, put cardboard down and a bag of muck heap along there, but it will need more when I have some energy.  Car packed with what I need, a fresh loaf of bread made, Manderin Muffins made to take tomorrow, and I will make up my rolls when I've had tea.  My back will probably be complaining bitterly tomorrow now, but tough, you can't make an omelette without breaking eggs.

What women did to survive - Jeannie Jenner, an elusive soul

 

She's a fairly distant relative of mine, the "wife" of a first cousin, twice removed, but somehow I got dragged into researching her story.  She started off as just a married name on a census - I shall call her Jeannie Jenner, but finding her birth and birth name really took some hard work. She had an unusual Christian name - I assumed it was a shortened form - as it was - BUT it was her middle name.  I only found out her given name when I researched some of her children's births and got "Richardson" the surname. . .  Censuses and records said she was born in Rugby, in Birmingham, in Warwick, in Worcestershire. I drew a blank everywhere.  It wasn't until the 1921 census that I got the Big House name where her father worked and tracked her down.  I've changed all the names in case anyone she's related to happens to read this and is shocked.  Highly unlikely I know, but that's just me.

When she was born in rural Warwickshire, life looked like it held a gentle future - village life, marrying an Ag. Lab and settling down to having children year on year, with parents nearby and everyone who meant anything to her in the same village.  Jeannie attended the village school with her siblings and had no fears.  Her dad was stud groom at the Big House and they had a lovely tied cottage in the grounds.  Then he died, and everything changed.  They had no home, no money and had no option but to ask Granny B for help and went to live with her in London - 10 of them all told, in a couple of rooms in what we would call a "house of multiple occupation" - about 30 people crammed into one tenement. 

By the time she is 20 she turns up staying at a pub on the Isle of Wight with her first "husband", a man nearly old enough to be her father (he is 36).  But hey, he's a Comedian and is fun to be with and she feels SO grown up and she is out of Granny's overcrowded rooms.

Life continues to throw curved balls though, and by 1895 we find her in the Workhouse, "in labour". Did her family throw her out?  Her namesake little "Jeannie Richardson" is born and within a few months, has died.  

Then dependable "Albert Jenner" comes into the picture and the children start appearing like clockwork - one every couple of years, as soon as the protection offered by breast-feeding ended and doubtless Pennyroyal helped when she could afford it (it's an aborifacient - Keith's gran used to use it . . .)  They lived with his mum to start with (for whom London must have seemed horribly busy and life financially a struggle after rural Devon). Then she died and they were on their own, playing happy families with an increasing brood.  She was pregnant with her ninth child (3 of whom have already died) when her "husband" died, aged only 40.  The census shows us with just the three youngest children - including "Alice", the baby.  Scrawled across the page "Other Children in W******** Parish Home."  These were pretty well the three oldest ones, and even there they didn't stay put as "Bert" ended up at Chorlton in Manchester in the Ragged and Industrial Boys Home, where he still was in the 1921 census.

I couldn't find Alice anywhere.  Nor ever any marriage for her mother (either with the Comedian or Albert Jenner) until she marries  Mr D in 1924.  However, there was a May D born in the same year as "Alice".  I have made my own conclusions as Alice never shows up again.  A little fib on Jeannie's behalf on the census . . .  A son with the same new father also puts in an appearance.  Then in the 1921 census, two of the siblings are in a flat paid for by Mr D.  Written beside each of them was Step-daughter - only the first one had "step" crossed through, so it looks like Jeannie and Mr D may have been having an affair before her husband died.  Perhaps she had to nurse him.  Perhaps they had fallen out of love due to the hardships and privations they suffered.  Who knows what we would do in that situation, desperate for help and love and money.

They eventually married - after she had given birth to 11 children and buried 3.  They appeared to live happily ever after and I am still in the process of trying to trace missing children. 

 If you find this a boring post - sorry, but it cried out to be written.  "Jeannie" has been remembered and I'm glad about that as she had a tough life, one way and another.

St Andrew's Church, Presteigne

 Not mentioned anywhere, this stump of an earlier preaching cross (I assume) could well date back to the 9th C Saxon origins of the original church on this site.

Pevsner declares that St Andrew's Church at Presteigne is "architecturally much the best in Radnorshire", its wealth having largely come from the Herefordshire part of the parish (it is right on the border and indeed still in the diocese of Hereford.)  Hah! - you can tell the dividing line when the car feels as if it has square wheels and no suspension the moment you cross into Herefordshire!! Having a scanty population, they do not have much money to throw at road repairs . . .

I loved this "place in the landscape" type of photo showing some of the lovely old buildings lining Broad Street as it drops towards the bridge over the River Lugg.

The Church was held by the Augustinian Canons of Wigmore from the 13th C until the Reformation. The early roots are well hidden on the exterior in this view.

A plain 14th C font.

If you are a military person, these recently carefully-conserved banners would be the highlight of your visit.  I was certainly drawn to them (ahem, so much so that I totally ignored the amazing Flanders tapestry dating to 1510 and showing Christ's entry into Jerusalem.  See link for photo.  In my defence, I find faded tapestries a tad . . . boring.)  Anyway, the one above shows the historic banner of the Radnorshire Militia, which dates from the Napoleonic Wars.  I find this more amazing - it has survived a war AND 200 years since.  The silk colours would have originally been blue.

Here is the banner of the long-extinct Radnorshire Rifle Volunteers, which was formed in 1860 and this banner was given to them in 1861 by Lady Walsh.  The central coat of arms is the unofficial one of Presteigne - the shield of the Mortimers. 

I assume this section of the Union Jack flag was also from Napoleonic times.

Looking down the church - hello friend Gay!!  

An attractive rood screen (Pearson restoration detail?) and below, many memorials to the great and good of the parish.

The unsung heroines of any church were responsible for making pretty patchwork seat covers throughout.

A glimpse of the chancel roof which dates back to Tudor times.  Pevsner mentions early C14 stonework around the chancel arch and it was recorded as painted with figures of Moses and Aaron on the W side and Death and Time on the E. If fragments remain, I didn't notice them.  The Chancel is "fully developed Perp" (easy to tell when I am quoting Pevsner!) It is Grade 1 listed. The church was skillfully restored and altered by Gilbert-Scott back in the 1860s.

Finally, a 13th C coffin lid, possibly for a member of the Mortimer family, lies in a recess.

This poor girl, Mary Morgan - taken advantage of and who, in a state of complete desperation murdered her illegitimate baby, paid the ultimate price for it, being the last woman to be hung in Presteigne.  She was only 17.

My holiday is over now as my friend Gay returned home yesterday.  Lots more posts to come from our outings.

Keith saw the Physio last week and has some neck exercises to do, which really seem to help - after doing them he can stand up straight away from the chair -but sadly when we tried a walk yesterday his neck once again prevented him from walking easily and we had to do just a few yards and return to the car.  He is fine in the house, so he is thinking it is an almost psychological thing that stops him walking in the park. We are going to see about a wheelchair on Monday, so we can get out and about whilst waiting to hear that OT have finally recommended the mobility scooter he needs. Hoping it will be soon as two big Fairs coming up and Keith would love to go to them

Update: goodness it's hot out there already.  We have just sold our old chest freezer to some farmers from Rhayader way so that gives me some housekeeping for this week.  I think the afternoon will be spent doing more family history after I have had a breakthrough for my dad's deepest of Devon (Dartmoor fringe) roots.  Yesterday I found the house where our folk lived - my dream thatched and cob Devon farmhouse . . .  Wish THAT had stayed in our branch of the family, but sadly ours became Ag. Labs. rather than Yeomen.

UNCLEAN!!

 This week I had a bit of a poorly chest - my peak flow went down and my breathing worsened.  I had made the mistake last week of opening a bag of compost (without a mask) and finding it mouldy.  I did exactly the same this week (there's no fool like an old fool) and must have inhaled some mould spores as it began to feel like I was getting a chest infection.  I spoke to the Dr who advised my taking the anti-biotics I had in-house for just this event (though haven't needed for a couple of years now).  Then she said, "You'll need to take a Covid Test and Isolate straight away."  Well, I wasn't expecting THAT!  I had a choice of 3 drive-through test centres - ones obviously short on customers - as I decided on the nearest, Rhayader, and could have a choice of every single appointment that day!  It was almost like an afternoon out, as lovely scenery on the way, but at the test place it was very difficult to hear what the chap was saying, as he obviously had a mask on and with them insisting that the windows be totally shut, I struggled to hear what he was saying.  Anyway, I soon got myself swabbed as per instructions, though it does make you gag to touch your tonsils.  Fortunately the results came through by email yesterday morning, first thing, and I tested negative, which is what I expected. All the same, it put the wind up me for a few hours!

View of the kitchen windowsill, looking towards the bird feeders and below, my white dresser with its slightly changed display of my favourite china.  The gap on the top is due to me using the Doulton vase with the castle on it for the Daffodils (above). The cookery books are Tam's, so she didn't have to go searching for them when she was cooking.

The top three shelves house some of my Torquay and Devon potteries collection.  The ones with the most words and the more ochre colouring are the oldest.  I hardened my heart over some pieces and they are in boxes in the attic, awaiting us doing a Fair again (if that ever happens).

You can't see it very clearly, but behind the dried Hydrangeas is a European spoon rack with horses' heads either end.  The candle holder is one we bought in York for Keith a few years back - repurposed out of an old oak post.  The bluebirds piece is Tam's and the loving cup on the bottom one of mine.

This has made itself very handy indeed.  On the right are the crotal bells on an old leather collar used on a French bellwether sheep (in the Pyranees probably).  It rings a lovely tone.

This cupboard is set in the chimney breast (no longer in use) and has a wee window at the back which lights the interior of my jams/chutneys and pickles/oils and vinegar cupboard.

    I can't remember if I shared these photos with you before - but anyway, here they are today as I've not been out for a walk this week due to being off-colour.

    Today I had a short potter in the garden and planted two of the baby Clematis from Morrisons in the side garden and my Bathsheba rose.  That had to be moved from its original intended spot because we came upon a pipe . . .  Yesterday we planted the small Patio rose Peachy on the far side of the pond, in the middle of another big area of demolished bits of house, and had to move that rose back too because we found a polythene pipe carrying the electricity cable to the Summerhouse . . . We will have to dig very carefully here.

    I have gotten back to my family history whilst resting up and found my Great Aunt Nell - from a throwaway comment made by my mum many years ago now when we were discussing the family.  Aunt Nell moved to Oxford, she told me, and indeed she did . . .  Now I am trying to find my g.g.g. grandfather's birth details in Buckinghamshire.  He's a lot more elusive.