John Milton

Today in 1649 John Milton became the Government's Secretary for Foreign Tongues.

      Experts reckon we have 2000 different languages spoken in the UK at this time.
                                  Where is he now that we need him?

Look what I found on my way to the library!

This little lady sneaked into our Wapping Wharf this morning and
caused something of a stir.  Many people were there to stare with cameras clicking from every vantage point.  It cost 100 million and is to be delivered to it's anonymous owner in the West Indies next week.  I was appalled and disgusted at that kind of money being spent for the gratification of some rich nobody but as we drove home we discussed the merits if any of such a beast.
Well!  let's think - it needed designers, marine engineers, ship builders, Interior designers, plumbers, carpenters, electricians, glaziers, tilers, carpet fitters, upholsters, furnishers, a crew of 20 people and lots more I cannot think about.
The visit to Bristol is it's first port of call from the ship yard where it was built and where it waits for a few days to take on supplies
before sailing to be delivered to it's owners.
All the suppliers in Bristol are rubbing their hands at this unexpected customer and vans were lined up on the keyside this morning      morning.   All the coffee shops were packed with on lookers having a quick cuppa before going about their other business.
So perhaps it is true to say MONEY MAKES THE WORLD GO AROUND and I should stop being so sniffy.
She is a really beautiful lady and God Bless all who sail in her.

Clowns

I have just read a story in a recently published book of short stories named 'Satan's Toybox'
The story I read was called 'Last Line of Defence' and was written by my number 2 son.

One sentence leapt out at me - a crying child was told 'shut up or I'll set the clowns on you'
Now clowns have always been scary things for me but I thought I had managed to keep it to myself.   When I was about 11 years old my parents took me to the circus which arrived on a mass of spare ground near our home.  This was in the days when a man with a whip would enter a cage of lions and tigers, a bear was lead with a chain around his neck and a person walked on a wire high above our heads with no safety net in place.  This was the first  show I had ever been to and I was running a gambit of emotions - excitement, anticipation, thrills and certainly fear but nothing compared with the actual terror I felt when the clowns came running on.  I was simply petrified into silence.
They were to me frightening and unknowable just like the criminals whom we see today with head and faces covered so that they are totally unrecognisable as people.
 I can't believe that I might have passed my fear of clowns on to my children.

My mother passed an irrational fear of cats to my sisters and me and eventually as an adult I had to face the fear head on and get a kitten to grow up in my own family with us.
Perhaps I am going to have to go out and buy a clown.

What a strange week ...minus temperatures...icy...no ice...plus temperatures...flowers...and even a tree in blossom near our house.
What a difference a day makes (they say) and a week or a year can completely change your life.
In a week which started with the death of a close friend and news this morning of the closing hours of another close friend it brought to mind the death of our young daughter in law some years ago and of how our dear son had to find out that no matter how badly your heart is broken the world does not stop for your grief. Her death changed all our lives in an instant but nobody can turn the clock back, though everyone can start afresh today and create a wonderful ending.
Thank you for some lovely memories Stewart and Jean xx

A difficult Day

This week brought the sad news of the death of a close and dear friend so Saturday found us on a journey to the beautiful city of Wells to discuss arrangements for his funeral.  We spent the journey in silence with lots of thoughts in our heads.  Our friendship had lasted for 32 years, we first met when we had small children, we had 2 boys and they had a boy and a girl, all our children are now in their 40's with families of their own.  It was difficult and we used lots of hankies during the day. We left late afternoon in a low spirited state for the journey back across the Mendips but soon the sun came out and we took in the beautiful countryside stretching for miles in every direction, baby lambs were appearing in the fields and we saw
lots os snowdrops in the hedgerows - none of these things had been apparent to us a few hours earlier.  It might be fanciful but we really believed we were being reminded of the continuence of life and finished our journey almost on a high.  Was Stewart saying to us - whatever has happened to me and however you feel   'get up, dress up and show up'.
At his funeral next week I hope someone will say - 'don't cry because his life is over, laugh because it happened'.    RIP Stewart

RAF Biggin Hill

A friend who lived close to us some years ago had many interesting, sad and funny stories to tell. He flew a spitfire during the war (aged 19 years) and was eventually shot down over Holland and reported 'missing in action'. He woke up lying in a field smothered by his parachute and wondering if he were dead or not. Rain stinging his face made him realize he was very much alive and in great danger of being found by the wrong people!
Thankfully he was found by the right people - 2 Dutch men, who quickly buried his parachute and took him to a 'safe house' where he found the cellar decked out for unexpected visitors such as he.
Day by day he was moved by guides from 'safe house' to 'safe house' making his way across Holland, Belgium, France until 3 months later he found himself in the foothills of the Pyrenees and along with a mountain guide he began the long walk into neutral Spain and eventually rejoined his old Squadron at Biggin Hill and continued flying until the war ended. He never lost his love and gratitude for all the people who had helped him and kept in touch with many of them until his death as a very old man.
One day he had a call from a TV company in the Netherlands who said they were doing a programme about the people who fought their own war with the Germans by finding 'lost' allies and helping them to get home. Would he like to tell his story? He sure would.
The TV company asked if he could name some hotels close to his home wher they could base their staff but he decided to ask the church
congregation the next day for help and to his astonishment he had more than 30 offers of accomodation.
He was delighted to call back and say 'Bring as many people as you wish, I have 'safe houses' lined up here for them'.

Money!

One dark night in 1940 a small vessel slid out of the English Channel stacked with millions of pounds of British money, the ship was surrounded by destroyers who accompanied it to Canada where the money was placed into the 'safe hands' of the Canadian Government until after the war in Europe was over.
Last year 2011, the British Government gave 126 million dollars to Zimbabwe as a gift mainly to be used on education as many schools have no text books or indeed chairs.
The Zimbabwe Government spent 25,000 dollars on primary schools and absolutely nothing on secondary education.
Meanwhile they managed to scrape together 120.2 millions to spend on the office of Robert Mungabi and Prime Minister Tavangirai and a mere 5 million on updating Preident Mugabi's home (picture).

The value of money has changed so much over the years as we in Europe well know but so has the idea of   'putting your money into safe hands'.