4th August 2014 - A hundred years ago today

Dartmoor View:

This afternoon, as I peeled and cut windfall apples to cook up for a pie, I thought how, on a summer's day, just like this one, a century ago, our ancestors went about their work pretty much as we are all doing today.  The young Swallows would have been skimming around in groups of 20 or more, practising their flying skills just as they are today.  The harvest would have been ripening, the hay would have been in stooks or carefully stacked and thatched, rowanberries turning orange on the trees and countrywomen would have been trying to make 6d do the work of a shilling, just as they have always done - and still do - whilst their menfolk laboured in the fields.

Down on Dartmoor my female relatives might have been amongst the tors gathering whortleberries for pies or to be sold at local markets at 6d or 7d a quart.  Staggering home with huge baskets full, their thoughts would doubtless have been more on events close to hand than those unfolding in a foreign country they had scarcely heard of.

I wonder how long it took for news of war to percolate to the more outlying farms?  I wonder if folk realized the impact it would have on their lives, and that by the end of four years, scarcely a household in the country would remain unaffected by lives lost - fathers, sons, brothers, cousins.

I thought today of the excitement the young men had felt at the idea of fighting for their country - those country lads especially thinking that at last they had a chance to get away from their humdrum life and have the chance to have a dependable regular wage coming in instead of every chance of being laid off because business was slow or the farmer could get a younger boy cheaper to do their work.  To escape their cramped living conditions and monotonous diet and to be the envy of their friends.  After all, it would all be over before Christmas.  It strikes me that they were full of such innocence.  They truly believed what their leaders told them.  Only the old sweats who had experienced war knew differently, but not even they could have dreamed of the carnage and futility and terror of trench warfare for years on end.

I hope that you will join me in lighting a candle of remembrance tonight and remember all those who fought, whether they returned or stayed, in the words of Rupert Brooke, who sadly fulfilled the prophecy of the poem he wrote in 1914:

THE SOLDIER BY RUPERT BROOKE

IF I should die, think only this of me;
That there's some corner of a foreign field
That is for ever England. There shall be
In that rich earth a richer dust concealed;
A dust whom England bore, shaped, made aware,	5
Gave, once, her flowers to love, her ways to roam,
A body of England's breathing English air,
Washed by the rivers, blest by suns of home.
And think, this heart, all evil shed away,
A pulse in the eternal mind, no less	10
Gives somewhere back the thoughts by England given;
Her sights and sounds; dreams happy as her day;
And laughter, learnt of friends; and gentleness,
In hearts at peace, under an English heaven.

Many thanks to www.bartleby.com from whence I copied the words. .

Spare a thought, especially, for those 54,000 men whose bodies were never recovered, but are remembered on the Menin Gate, like my husband's Great Uncle, George Brown Bird, left mortally wounded in a bomb crater which later received a direct hit from another bomb.  Think too of those who were broken in body or in mind, yet returned home, and men whose mental breakdown was simply called Cowardice and punished as such by a firing squad at dawn.  Forgiveness is a word to choke on . .

Devon Vernacular

I bought a few copies - old ones from the 1940s and 1950s - of The Countryman recently.  I love them for some of the obscure stories and reports they carry.  Here is a wonderful piece of "Devon-speak" which appeared in the Spring 1948 copy of the magazine:

"I'll baste thy hide vur thee ef thee dissent come into th'ouse dreckly minit!" exclaimed the old lady to her five-year-old grandson.  "What with yurr mumbudgetting an' trapsying roun' th' drange-way, yu'll be rinnedaver."  When she caught sight of me, she crooned, "Aw, me dear sawl, how 'ee be grawn zince I zeed 'ee last!  Come in an' zit yezelf down, midear!"  Little Archie followed us into the cottage where a fire burned cheerfully in the "bodley".  Giving the boy a playful clip over the head, his grandmother said, "It vair makes me bivver to zee littul Arch, the way 'e du love a drap o' dirt.  'E's wors'n 'is farthur were at 'is age.  An' 'ave 'e zeed 'Aryot Webb's littul maid zince 'er comed back vrom schule?" she rambled on.  "'Er's a praper maid right enuv.  'T'ath adued 'er gude gwaine away."



I love to think of my Devon ancestors talking like this.  Dad never did - he always had a nice speaking voice without any Devon accent, but he used to tell me about t'owd bwoys up on't moor, who said thee and thou like they had done for centuries . . .

A very wet weekend . . .

As I write it is chucking it down with rain outside. Not a good day to be out and the good car boot sale in town will definitely NOT be taking place, which is disappointing.  We shall head up to our nearest village to check out the indoor car boot sale there (nothing to get excited about usually) and also a garage sale in the same village.

We may go into town afterwards as I need more seagrass to cover with material to restore a little footstool.  It is in shades of purple, lilac and white, with a bit of purply-maroon thrown in for good measure.  These cottons come from a couple of pillow cases I found in charity shops, so they came cheaply.

After a fortnight of my very low histamine diet, I am ending today, as it would appear it is Alcohol, Dairy, and one or two other bits which affect my asthma. Anything with sulphites in is a no-no too, and of course, I have long known that motorway driving with lots of heavies about does me no good either.  All those tiny particulates from the diesel affect me.

I shall still be aware of what foods are high in histamines and try and avoid them.  To be honest though, it would be very easy to get paranoid about what you were eating for fear it would make you ill, and then you are just a step away from food-phobia and Anorexia.  I have an appointment at the Hospital later this month, so will discuss it with my Respiratory Nurse then, and see what the way forward is.

We had a lovely morning yesterday when friends came round for coffee and cake. I made a luscious Rhubarb and Custard cake, the recipe of which will be swiftly added to my personal recipe book of favourites.

We were talking about re-caning a child's highchair I have had awaiting restoration and my friend is an expert at recaning and will show me how it's done so I can restore things in future.  I can't wait for my lessons, as I love learning new crafts.  

Time to get on with the day now.

Time to rest occasionally and return trip to Manorbier

Here is one of my "resting" projects for the summer, when I decide to sit in the shade and put my feet up.  I hate to be idle, but will allow myself embroidery or a good book to read.  Obviously, this is the embroidery project, a half-finished linen tablecloth which came in a bundle from a car boot sale.

Yesterday I had arranged to take a dear friend, who sadly is in poor health now, to Manorbier, as she had never been there.  Her grandson had been staying the night and came with us.  It was lovely to be surrogate grandparents for a day!

This is looking back at the castle from the path to the beach.

The inner ward of the castle and the hall-range, now available for weddings.  This was built in the 12th C by Gerald of Wales' father, William de Barri.

The enormous fireplace and chimney in the Great Hall.  They knew how to impress in those days.

This kitchen hearth was equally impressive.  In between this and the hall is a deep well, which also gave access to the beach . . .

Bear's Britches, with A just in the picture.

Another stretch of long border.

Hardy Fuschias.

Looking back towards the gatehouse (far left), with the cafe (open door) beside it, and the holiday home with the tower behind it.

A close-up of the holiday home.  Isn't it lovely?

Then, having eaten - and I have to say that the Rhubarb and Elderflower Cheesecake was DIVINE - we made our way down to the beach.

Barnacles and beadlet anemones sit it out until the tide reaches the rock pools again.  Fortunately it wasn't too hot a day - just right.

In a wetter rock pool there were some tiny fish darting about.  Not that you can spot them here!

A's grandson proving he was brave enough to put his head under water (braver than me then!)

Oops - I think he opened his nostrils too soon . . .

But it didn't deter him.

The high spot of the day was him wishing he could see a Grasshopper for the first time, and me stopping to shake the sand from my shoes and finding myself surrounded by them.  He was delighted.

Rosebay Willow Herb which I stopped to photograph on the way home.  

Kale chips and Coconut flour . . .

We went into town on Wednesday to do a "Healthy Shop" at the Health Food Shop (of course!) and on the way, got some fresh apples and others to top up the fruit bowls.  Green bananas, a pomegranate,  organic pears, some manderins (I'm not meant to have those, so my husband will eat them), lemons, and then the apples which I eat about 4 a day of.  They are high in quercetin which is good for my lungs.  Quercetin is an anti-inflammatory and anti-oxident (asthma is much about inflammation of the lungs).   Cranberries, plums, blueberries, blackcurrants, cherries, are all fruits high in it, and vegetables onions, green chilli peppers, kale, broccoli, lettuce, chicory, sweet peppers and french beans are also high.  All of these, I think I am correct in saying, I can eat.  But there's a long list of stuff to avoid as well!  Which leads me on to . . .

Remember my post back in January, when I wrote of "eating myself well"?  Follow the link if you don't!  Well, here we are again, and this time I have a very strong suspicion (shared by my respiratory nurse) that I may have histamine intolerence, probably (hopefully) caused by my gut flora being depleted after so many courses of antibiotics.

So, after doing a lot of research, I have decided to go for a month without as many high-histamine foods/drinks as I can, eating a diet which is low-histamine, and with limited foodstuffs which release histamines into the system.  A difficult balancing act and at first the diet looked like it was going to be SO BLAND.  Not even any curry powder, so I'll have to blend my own mix, no soy (Soy is a REAL bad guy, as is anything fermented).  I have yet to start smoothie making but in the meantime I am not starving.  Last night's supper was salmon steak with grated ginger and red chilli, and a pile of purple French beans from the garden and the last of the garden-grown runner beans I bought from a stall at Malvern last Sunday.  Scrummy.

As you can see, I have alternative gluten-free flours for baking, though I don't think I have Gluten intolerence, but for a month . . .

I prefer organic fruits and vegetables when I can get them, although of course they carry a big premium in price.  I have always been careful to wash/peel fruits and vegs because of the hideous sprays used on them which I am sure are the cause of a lot of illness/deaths.

My "treat" from this pile was the Nakd banana bread bar.  Hardly two mouthfuls but really tasty, and nearly . . . well, almost . . . as nice as a bar of chocolate (which I'm not allowed, chocolate that is).  The bottle with the illegible label is toasted sesame oil for stir fries.

I shall be back to say more about this I am sure.  It's early days yet, but I am hoping, when I start on a course of probiotics, that things will really start to change for the better.  I am following an excellent blog called the Low Histamine Chef and have downloaded one of her books to my Kindle.  Onwards and upwards I hope . . .

. . . and Ledbury Photos

Ledbury is a lovely little town, full of "Magpie"half-timbered houses.  This is Church Street and the Church is St Michael and All Angels.  In the 8th C, the Bishop of Hereford deemed it necessary to send some of his clergy to establish a church on the site of a pagan shrine and by the 11th century there was a large and important Minster church on this site, which was rebuilt in the 12th C and altered down the centuries.

On the right is the old Grammar School (now a local history museum).  It has the most enormous inglenook fireplace I have ever seen.  Imagine the last few feet of a room, spanned by a beam and then open to the roof behind it, literally from floor to chimney, the width of the house.  It dates from around 1480.  Inside is a good guide to Ledbury's interesting history and famous people, who include Poet Laureate John Masefield, who was born here, and Elizabeth Barrett-Browning, who lived with her family at the curiously-designed (by her father I believe) Hope End.  It had turrets all around it at intervals, extending above the roof of the house, and looking for all the world like Smartie tubes . . .  The Barrett fortunes were tied up in Sugar Plantations in the West Indies, and income declined (around the time of the death of Elizabeth;'s mother in 1828).  By 1832 the house and 500 acre estate had been sold, much to Elizabeth's distress, and the family relocated to Sidmouth in Devon.




Illustration from a book, copied from an internet link, originally on a blog called Tinsmith's Cuttings. Weird Weird house!  Had it been still standing, they would have used it in the Harry Potter films I'm sure!

This lovely building, Butcher Row House, is now a Folk Museum (and free entry too).  Apparently it was removed from the High street, where it originally stood, and rebuilt here, many years ago now.

Next month when we are there again, we will look around it.  My husband thought I was just taking a couple of quick photos, so I couldn't linger too long.

Another lovely building close to the Church.

At the top of Church Street.

I can never resist peeks along alleyways and into back yards . . .

No time for tea and cake today, but what a lovely spot for it.

Malvern Fleamarket and Ledbury photos

We were up at 4 a.m. yesterday morning to get an early start at Malvern Fleamarket.  We had missed the last Antiques Fair there (which has outside stalls too) so were really looking forward to our day out.

It was quite foggy first thing and didn't really start to improve until we got to Llandovery.  Hence the rather arty-farty picture above (LOVE it!) which I think I took just outside Brecon.

We arrived just before 7.30 a.m. (when the gates open for buyers to come in) and were surprised to see a long queue of sellers' cars going in too.  It would seem that the fog had been widespread and held up those buyers from much further afield. Normally everyone is through the gates at a little past 6.30 a.m. and soon setting up and the most desirable items get sold between dealers before the public get a sniff of them.  On this occasion we struck lucky and got our best bargains first thing. 

 I was banned from going near the plant stall ...

The usual general view though if I had had room to take it from head on, this stall was more decorative than most.

This unusual stall claimed to do "sculpted taxidermy" - as per the pictures.  I don't think he realized that Zebras have short manes too.  

This is for my friend Kim over at Oakmoon Studios, who loves Unicorns.  I think her Araby paintings of Unicorns are much prettier than this one though.

This old Victorian picture of Thoroughbred stallion St Simon was one of a couple of dozen, taken from a book, for sale at the Fleamarket.  I looked through them all, and unfortunately they were nearly all marked by damp and mould.  I asked the price - £10 each!  I am afraid I snorted at the price! and then walked way.

This made a great photo!  I'm not sure I would enjoy these "dummies" on a chair in my house though . . .

This lady had turned ordinary pieces of furniture into ones that children would love.  The Wind in the Willows theme here.

Horses - she wasn't quite so strong on her horses . . .

This was my favourite, the Beatrix Potter chest of drawers.

Various views painted on old saws.  I think she had taken "side-saddle" a bit too literally, but I think this was a really good idea - upcycling at its best.

I was chatting with another stall holder, and admiring some of the things she was selling and she got out this very old Paisley shawl, a proper one made in Paisley, Glasgow.  It had seen better days and a previous owner had "mended" a tear with HUGE stitches and a full 6 strands of red embroidery thread, bless her.  Obviously her eyesight was going.  A real piece of history here.

I didn't ask the price on this, but what a wonderful old vintage street vendor's popcorn-maker.

I will have to add the Ledbury photos later, or do a separate post, as I need to get SOME work done today.