Where to start……………………
I’ve thought a lot recently about how my Dad influenced me and what I learnt from him.
My earliest memories are of sitting on Dads knee reading my Janet and John books from school – he definitely gave me my love of reading. Until lately Dad always had a book on the go. Later on he was the one trying to get me to learn my tables. Another of my earliest memories is of using my plastic hairdressers kit to style his hair whilst he tried to watch TV. He would always come up at my bedtime and tell me stories that he made up, he had a wonderful imagination. My father always did the decorating himself and I remember him showing me how to gloss the doors correctly.
He and mum belonged to an amateur dramatic club in Romford, called Caritas. I sometimes went with them to rehearsals in the church hall. Dad was the actor, mum made the costumes. Dads mum was also into Am Dram. I went on to specialise in drama at teacher training college.
My brother and father influenced me a lot – for better or worse!
Dad loved watching the wrestling on a Saturday afternoon. Chris and I would have a bucket and a milk bottle of water in each corner of the room. I was always Jackie Palo and Chris was probably Mick Macmanus. When seconds out rang we would wrestle on the floor of the lounge – Chris always won.
I spent many a weekend afternoon under the bonnet of a car with Chris and Dad. He always did his own servicing, when cars were mechanical not computerised.
He grew vegetables in the garden, onions, potatoes, cabbage, beans, lettuce, carrots.
We played cricket in the garden, tennis at the park and had lovwoely holidays in the west country, where he took us fishing! (Tom).
When Chris and Dad started gliding I would go over to the gliding club with them and help retrieving gliders and riding in the old launch truck.
Later in my teenage years, Dad and I clashed. I remember a lot of arguments – he had strong opinions and so did I. Later on after I was married and had Alison, we got on well. I loved the way he was with Alison – playing with her, being silly and making her laugh with his awful jokes.
The last few years have been very difficult for mum and Dad. Moving out of their home that they had made their own since 1976 was a massive upheaval. Neither of them was going to be as happy as they had been there, but Hatherlow House was the next best thing. I have nothing but praise for the management and staff, who treated them with respect and consideration. I know Dad would want me to thank them. After mum died Dad was very lonely, he became less and less able to do things for himself. It was awful having to feed my proud, independent father and it broke my heart seeing him being hoisted every time he needed to move. He told me many times that it was time for him to go. Some wonderful people helped Dad along the way and I know he would want me to thank Jim and Mary who were fabulous neighbours, Lorraine and Oliver who visited Dad regularly and did shopping for him and Paul Hardman who visited Dad and took him communion.
My daughter Alison was close to her Grandpa, ,more so as she helped to look after him towards the end. they had much in common. Both hated school and left as soon as they could, both worked their way up from the bottom. I would like to finish by reading what she wrote about her Grandfather.
Today I had to say goodbye to my fourth, final and favourite grandparent. My grandpa was my hero, a proud and hard working man who always had tales to tell from the war and his RAF days. He was the one that made me laugh, played with me and slyly slipped money into my pocket or my hand when nobody was looking. He made up amazing bedtime stories off the top of his head that would leave me with the best dreams for hours on end. He always greeted me with “nice to see you” and I HAD to reply “to see you nice”. I held his hand tightly through my grandma’s funeral last year and today I held it for the last time…cheerio granpops rest in peace.
Author: helengibsondavies
MY MUM
HILDA MARY GIBSON NEE FISHWICK
7/1/1924 – 3/1/2015
2013
I write this for myself, so that in some way I have permanently marked my mums passing.
Born 7/1/1924 in LiverpooL
She became the eldest daughter of Percy and Lillian Fishwick
She had two brothers Clem and John and a sister Barbara. She was the last of that generation of Fishwicks.
She attended Notre Dame school in Liverpool on Mount Pleasant.
The family lived in Tuebrook in Liverpool. The house was badly damaged by a bomb during the second world war. So the family moved to Noctorum, a then pleasant suburb of Birkenhead. As a child I, loved this house with its big garden, greenhouse, shed and fascinating extra outside toilet. I also loved Werbie the budgie that my Grandparents had. Mum however, didn’t and whenever it was let out of it’s cage she would run upstairs!
During the war my mum was evacuated to Gowerton in South Wales, with her young sister Barbara. My Grandma gave strict instructions that they were not to be separated. Whilst standing on the platform waiting to be selected for homing, Barbara was nearly snatched from my mums grasp, because she looked so cute but they didn’t want mum!! They were eventually homed together with what mum described as a lovely couple.
Mum did a secretarial course and then went on to Calder Teacher Training College in Liverpool. She specialised in Domestic Science.
She moved to London with a friend and started her teaching career in Stratford – the East End of London. Her next job was in Chadwell heath – also in the East End.
It was at this time that she met my Dad, through his sister Veronica who mum had got to know. I have photos of Dad in his RAF uniform at that time and he does cut a rather dashing figure.
Mum and Dad married in 1948 and have had a long and enduring marriage. Til death do us part.
They bought a house in Romford where Chris was born in 1953 and myself in 1957. I of course was a perfect baby, however Chris had to be left down the bottom of the garden due to his continual crying!!! Apparently the only thing to keep Chris quiet on a car journey was mum and dad singing “Blue moon”!
Mum went part time, teaching DS at Pettits Lane and Chase Cross Secondary Modern schools in Romford. As a child mum sometimes took me to school with her, which I found a little daunting. One time she subjected me to being a model for a fashion show that her needlework department was putting on. It was a bridesmaids dress with frilly knickers which i had to show off!!! Mortifying!!
When in 1978 Dads job was relocated to Southport, they bought a house in Park Road near Hesketh Park, where they lived until last year. Unfortunately Dad got called back to London and for a few years he ended up living down there during the week.
Whilst living in Southport, until she retired at 60, mum taught Business Studies at Bootle High School. I was teaching in Scotty Road Liverpool at the time and used to meet mum for lunch on Fridays at the Mons Public House. Those were the days when teachers had a proper lunch hour – long gone now.
Mum joined the Southport Townswomens Guild and the U3A where she played Bridge and learnt Spanish.
Last May, at 90 years old, Mum and Dad finally realised that they needed more support at home and with me and Chris living so far away, decided to move into the Methodist Housing Association, Hatherlow House, just round the corner from where they lived. Mum found this extremely hard but the staff and residents couldn’t have been more caring, helpful and friendly.
They say “once a teacher always a teacher” and this was definitely true of mum. She loved planning, organising and telling people what she thought they ought to do! Everything she did was always done with the best of intentions.
I will miss her phone calls and answerphone messages, her advice, her generosity, her love and most of all just knowing that she was there.
AUTUMN
HERCULANEUM
The photo on the right shows vesuvius in the back- ground.
This Roman town, significantly smaller than Pompeii, was once a seaside resort and trading port town with quite wealthy inhabitants. There were about 4,000 inhabitants.
Herculanium is very well preserved, better than Pompeii, because whilst Pompeii was buried under the ashes when Mount Vesuvius erupted, Herculaneum was buried under tonnes of lava and mud in A.D. 79.
Herculaneum was originally discovered when a well was being dug in the early 18th Century at a depth of 50 – 60 feet below the modern surface. Initially a series of ‘robber’ shafts and tunnels were dug to strip the site of any saleable valuables.
A basic plan of the town was mapped out and much of the portable remains removed but eventually these tunnels collapsed and were closed down. The modern towns of Resina and Portici grew up over the site and knowledge of where the entrances to the tunnels were was lost to the scientific community.
In the 20th Century, archaeological excavations re-commenced on a more modern and scientific basis fully uncovering a small section of the town but it was found that the earlier tunnelling had damaged the structure of much of the surviving buildings. The site is also suffering from exposure to the elements and the periodic earth tremors, so there is a constant battle to try and preserve the remains.
The mosaic on the right was on the floor in the baths.
The mosaics and wall frescos are amazingly well preserved.
In the 1980s hundreds of bodies were uncovered between the arches tucked into the town walls (boat storage areas) and the wall of volcanic stone the entrance tunnel buries through. It is believed that people fleeing the city huddled here in the hopes the arches would provide protection from the volcano.
The majority of people who died were gassed by the sulphuric fumes. They were not prepared at all.
At the time of eruption the Roman senator and writer, Pliny the younger, was seventeen years old. He later gave a very accurate account of the eruption which has survived to this day in the form of two letters which he wrote to his friend, the historian Tacitus. Here are the extracts of his accounts, showing how a volcano seemed to an ancient Roman:
“The cloud was rising from a mountain – at such a distance we couldn’t tell which, but afterwards learned that it was Vesuvius. I can best describe its shape by likening it to a pine tree. It rose into the sky on a very long “trunk” from which spread some “branches.” I imagine it had been raised by a sudden blast, which then weakened, leaving the cloud unsupported so that its own weight caused it to spread sideways. Some of the cloud was white, in other parts there were dark patches of dirt and ash. … Broad sheets of flame were lighting up many parts of Vesuvius; their light and brightness were the more vivid for the darkness of the night… The buildings were being rocked by a series of strong tremors, and appeared to have come loose from their foundations and to be sliding this way and that. Outside, however, there was danger from the rocks that were coming down, light and fire-consumed as these bits of pumice were … It was daylight now elsewhere in the world, but there the darkness was darker and thicker than any night … Then came a smell of sulphur, announcing the flames, and the flames themselves.”
“There had been tremors for many days previously, a common occurrence in Campania and no cause for panic. But that night the shaking grew much stronger; people thought it was an earthquake, not just a tremor … Now the day begins, with a still hesitant and almost lazy dawn. All around us buildings are shaken …. In addition, it seemed as though the sea was being sucked backwards, as if it were being pushed back by the shaking of the land. Certainly the shoreline moved outwards, and many sea creatures were left on dry sand. Behind us were frightening dark clouds, rent by lightning twisted and hurled, opening to reveal huge figures of flame. These were like lightning, but bigger … Now came the dust, though still thinly. I look back: a dense cloud looms behind us, following us like a flood poured across the land.”
“We had scarcely sat down when a darkness came that was not like a moonless or cloudy night, but more like the black of closed and unlighted rooms … It grew lighter, though that seemed not a return of day, but a sign that the fire was approaching. The fire itself actually stopped some distance away, but darkness and ashes came again, a great weight of them … At last the cloud thinned out and dwindled to no more than smoke or fog. Soon there was real daylight. The sun was even shining, though with the lurid glow it has after an eclipse. The sight that met our still terrified eyes was a changed world, buried in ash like snow.”
On the right you can see some the perfectly preserves vessels.
Here we have the entrances to to male and females baths.
To the left are the changing areas of the baths. You can see the shelves where they would leave their clothes.
To the right are the actual baths.
Some remains of building are still two storeys high and with wood still preserved.
On the left are some food serving counters. Food would be prepared and placed in these serving bowls. Many of the houses had no cooking facilities and they ate out.
The streets were planned and laid out in cross sections. There were shops and services.
This is just a tantalising taster of what the way of life was like for the wealthy in Roman society. There is so much more to see and explore at this site. I found myself standing still, totally in awe at some of the things I saw. I stood and thought of all the hustle and bustle that would have been occurring here in its heyday. I walked down steps worn by Roman feet and marvelled at what they achieved. I gazed from the streets of ancient Herculanium upon Mount Vesuvius and tried to grasp the enormity and horror of that eruption, the scale of terror and horror that it caused. Nature can never be tamed.
Ramblings on Italy and the Amalfi Coast
Ramblings on Italy The Amalfi Coast Sorrento 2015.
Journey to sorrento 6.45 very busy. In a merc people carrier. Naples looked a dump. Many long tunnels through mountains with long queues and fumes! Saw Versuvius pouting suphurous fumes out of various vents. Rather misty out to sea. The scooters and bikes make suicidal manouvers. The road wound through the mountains this way and that-huge vertical drops to the side. Darkness fell and there appeared pinpricks of lights up mountainside and down valleys. The traffics horrendous but the drivers seem quite laid back and easy going.
Off the main road through little tree lined narrow strrets. Hundreds of scooters I reckon 99% of population have scooters. A brilliant form of transport. You can carry your child dog shopping or granny in front of you in the well! If the weather wasnt so unpredictable in britain It would help traffic flow around our towns and cities and cut traffic jams. Although in uptight safety conscious UK we wouldnt be able to drive them on the wrong side of the road,over double white lines, down one way streets without your helmet fastened or heaven forbid in shorts and t shirts without a helmet altogether! The whole thing about the traffic in southern italy is that its so laid back and calm. I only saw one altercation in a week. Nobody shouts swears name calls or does rude signs! There are many cars with scraps and bumps though and sorrento is very busy during the day. One of the things I resolve to be when I get home, is more calm and relaxed when driving.
In Sorrento, the traffic stops in the centre at night, everybody comes out to eat, meet, walk and chat. Children are out playing around the trees whilst adults sit drinking and talking. I didnt see anybody drunk lurching about the strrets shouting bawling or singing football chants which is apt to happen most weekends in leeds. The streets here are very clean but Naples is different altogether. The outside of buildings look tatty with plaster falling off.
The schools start early and finish about 1pm, when the all surge out of school all in their own brightly coloured clothes. I reallly dont get the British and their pathetic insistance on school uniform and the ridiculous instances of children being sent home for,god fobid, show an ounce of originality or i dependance of style! Absolutely bloody stupid and ignorant! Clothes maketh not the man ( or woman).
I think the Italians must laugh at some of the rules we British think raise standards!
The Italians here love their dogs too! Another tick for them. Dogs are allowed anywhere. Shops, restaurants, cafes, trains, buses and shops. Many dogs are taken to work and lay quite happily oblivious to traffic, human and mechanical. They enjoy riding on scooters too. Cats too are all around the streets and ports – all seem well cared for and content even if some may be feral. However i did spy a couple of tame crows in a tiny cage! Not good for any animal let alone such intelligent ones.
One other negative is smoking! It is allowed evrywhere and anywhere which is extremely unpleasant if you happen to be in a restaurant having a meal next to someone smoking, particularly as the tables are all very close. I remember when it was allowed in England . It was particularly bad in pubs and used to make my eyes sting. That’s a plus for my homeland.
The majority of the inhabitants of Sorrento live in high rise apartments, with a small balcony. They’re in very close proximity and have no garden. In fact there appear to be no parks just plazas with cafes and a bit of grass oh and palm trees I suppose it’s due to lack of space. I couldn’t be doing without my garden.
Theres no dawn chorus in Sorrento. I found the lack if song birds really strange. There were plenty of pigeons and a few gulls. There were plenty of crickets the loudest ones ive ever heard on Capri .
There are many lemon groves in this part of Italy. I have never seen such large lemons and the region around Sorrento is famous for its Limoncello liquor which is basically 30% alcohol with lemon.
Watch out for little bitey buggers! Never actually saw what bit me but ended up with several nasty red lumps .
One thing i absolutely hate about Italy and a lot of medditeranean countries is their horrid smelly toilets. No toilet seats! I mean whats that all about? God help you if you have bowel problems! They were fine in the hotels.
Sorrento is a busy unashamedly tourist town. Lots of paces to eat inside and out and some gorgeous patisseries , with various coffees served just right as Italians should. The ice cream in the gelateries is to die for! Every flavour you could think of and more. I had an ice cream nearly every day. Italians make the best waiters without doubt – so attentive and efficient.
The little tiny alleys that crisis cross off the main street can have you confused as they begin to look the same and you end up asking yourself if you’ve been there before. There are many souvenir shops selling products made from lemons and ceramics that are made in the area. there’s a lot of Italian linen garments in the shops and leather goods.
Public transport in this area is very reliable and cheap. We took the train from Sorrento to Herculanium. it took about 50 minutes and cost 2.80 euros. the train was a bit rickety rackety with loads of graffiti.
NEXT UP HERCULANEUM
EMPATHY, COMPASSION AND REASON
So we have a major crisis on our hands – yes our hands! We live on this planet with the rest of humanity, therefore any of the worlds problems are our problems.
Thousands upon thousands of people rushing out of Syria, in abject fear for they lives. These people are REFUGEES, that is “a person who fears, on well founded grounds, persecution in their own country”, as accorded by the Geneva Convention on refugees. Well I think being bombed out of your home, with whole villages being wiped out, just about covers it!!
A MIGRANT, on the other hand is someone who wants a better standard of living, a better job, a better way of life, who leaves their own country to live in another. This is also called IMMIGRATION. The person leaving the country of their birth is called EMIGRANT! There is also a crisis at Calais in France, where their are thousands of economic migrants, who wish to come to Britain.
With a large amount of reason, a sprinkling of compassion and smattering of empathy lets look at this situation.
Firstly, wherever you are lucky or unlucky to end up on this planet is a complete accident of birth. You might be lucky and pop out of your mothers womb in a rich, democratic country, with freedom and food and luxury. Or unlucky, born into a poor, starving country, or a war torn country or a country ruled by drug barons, a country ruled by a despot or the army. Believe me, there are more nasty places to live than nice. If you live in Europe, or North America or Australia/New Zealand/Japan you are living in the richest countries, which comprise a third of the world! How lucky are you? I hope you are grateful.
So, if you didn’t win a place in the “West” ask yourself this? What would you do? Probably what people have always done – migrate! Thats if you had any initiative. I wonder how many people sitting in their armchairs in the UK would have the guts to do what some of these migrants have done.
Secondly, humans have always migrated, immigrated, emigrated – moved from place to place. Thats how the world got populated in the first place. Humanity came out of the African Sub-continent. The UK is a country full of immigrants – we are all immigrants. From Scandinavia, Germany, Holland, France, Spain, India, and the old colonial countries, that we ransacked and raped. Indeed Britain is responsible for many of the worlds troubles. Our country has been made great on the backs of thousands of these nationalities. Its all in the mix!
Thirdly, many Briton are migrants. Thousands of British people have made their homes in Canada, USA, Spain, France, Australia, New Zealand to name a few. And some are lucky enough to have homes here and abroad!
And so we come to the question of refugees from war torn Syria. England has given refuge to the smallest amount of these people. I know we are a small country but I think thats something to be ashamed of. I’ve heard all the excuses, the latest that they may be terrorists in disguise. Some may well be but surely we can weed them out? Are we to be dictated to by Isis threats.
Are we happy to be a race of Little Islanders, who barricade their doors for unfounded fears?
WEMBLEY 2015 RUGBY LEAGUE CHALLENGE CUP
Had a fantastic long weekend in London, topped off by my team the Leeds Rhinos winning the Challenge Cup in fantastic blazing style. Brilliant experience – never been before. Amazing stadium and atmosphere. Rugby League fans rub shoulders together without animosity. Friendly banter and fans from all clubs attend making it a really special family occasion.
I cried my eyes out when Danny Jones’s wife sang Abide With Me. Danny died of an undiagnosed heart condition whilst playing for Keighley Cougars against London Skolars earlier this year. He left his wife with twin babies. She is a professional singer and completely stunned the crowd with her singing and courage. We stood, sang with her and cheered and clapped till our hands were sore. Danny would have been so proud.
The rhinos were on fire. They beat Hull KR 50 points to nil. Tom Briscoe made five tries making an all time record.
The Hull KR fans were brilliant, staying to the end and supporting their team. We left the stadium on a high and went to celebrate in London with a few beers.
Adel Woods north leeds
Have had some lovely dog walks at Adel woods. Been going here for years with all my dogs. Lots of people do the same but it never seems crowded. Its a mixed woodland with a small moorland.
From the moor you can catch sight of the old Adel Reformatory
The sun shining through the leaves make dappled patterns on the soft forest floor.
There are many paths to choose from and is a great place for orienteering. You can ride your mountain bike through here and get a really good workout. There’s plenty of birds and wildlife and its so lovely and peaceful.
Can be very muddy at times, particularly when the bikers have been through.
Adel Woods is part of the Meanwood Valley Trail. Click here for a leaflet of the trail.
AYSGARTH FALLS ONE OF YORKSHIRES TOP BEAUTY SPOTS
Had a lovely walk with Mike and Tetley today at Aysgarth Falls in the Dales near Leyburn. The river Ure winds its way through Wensleydale, tumbling over limestone at Aysgarth. There are a number of waterfalls but Upper, Lower are accessible but the Middle can be viewed from a platform.
The Yorkshire Dales National Park information centre there has a shop and cafe. The scones are absolutely amazing. I had a cherry and sultana one with jam and cream. I actually struggled to finish it, which is unheard of
AND there was so much cream that I didn’t need it all – again unheard of!
This walk is taken from the www.walkingenglishman.com Fantastic website for walkers.
FRANKENSTEINS CAT – EMILY ANTHES
This book deals with biotechnology. Quite a fascinating read and very informative. I didn’t realise how far genetic engineering had come and I found it rather un-nerving. Do we think its right to change the molecular nature of various animals for our benefit? Could it be that we are able to engineer changes that benefit the animal itself or are we meddling at our peril?? To be honest I found the book a bit hard going but it certainly gave me a lot to think about. 