Tag: Life

Mad March weather

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One minute it’s snowing, the next it’s cloudy, then it’s sunny and then we have a massive hailstorm. The hail has melted already because the sun has come out again.

That’s the thing about British weather, it rarely stays the same. In some places like Yorkshire or the Lake District you can buy postcards with mottos on them saying things like if you can see the hills now you won’t be able to in ten minutes because it will be raining or words to that effect..

I was going for a walk this afternoon but its blustery and cold. Perhaps if it improves in an hour or so I will go out. March winds seem to be in evidence today, it’s very gusty. In April we should have showers. Then summer arrives, in the past that’s when we used to get lots more gentle rain. Nowadays with global warming it seems we will get very hot weather or big thunderstorms, weather is never boring here, on some days you get all four seasons at once! 

Illness

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Two years ago I ended up in hospital and had to go on intravenous antibiotics. I was so miserable I decided to get my partner to bring a sketch book in so I could at least draw the view.

The room I was in was on one of the top floors, so unless I got close to the window all I could see was a few rooftops then sky. I took a few photos of the drawings on my phone while I was there for a few days.

My most miserable memory was the food. Tasteless stuff, pap, soft with no flavour. How patients are supposed to get better when the food is so awful … I think it must have cost pence to make. I remember enjoying the sandwiches, they were the only tasty thing in there.

Apart from that everyone was good and kind. But I was pleased to escape. Unfortunately when the ambulance took me home there was no one there to let me in! Luckily my partner turned up so I managed to avoid being carted back to the hospital! Happily we don’t normally have to pay for treatment in this country. Long may it remain so.

Dreaming how many?

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How many faces are in a crowd?

Do they look at me?

They are so solemn, so quiet, so still.

They could be real, they could be ghosts,

Conjured from the past.

The fist thump, bump of my heart

As I see your eyes, glinting

Back at me,

Deep in my dream, hundreds

Turn to thousands.

Heads multiply like cells

Mitosis and myosis?

I don’t know if you are real

Imagined

Ectoplasm

Ethereal

But you scare me.

Black and white

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I only have a couple of drawing apps on my phone because they take up too much memory. This app is quite good, it’s called sketcher. There are a lot of textures you can use, plus pens. I only draw using fingers although I have got a stylus somewhere. The image is not very clear but I used leaf shapes, a chalk pen, a crackle pattern and stars. I’d like to make it more accurate and realistic but it will have to do. I kept to a monochrome so that the texture becomes more important. I guess I could put it through different filters to see how that would affect it.

Meanwhile it’s one am in the morning and there is quite lively talk and shouting going on across the road at the local pub. Once that quietens down I will try and get some sleep.

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Trees

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Driving home this afternoon. I was a passenger for a change do I had the chance to take a closer look at the verges.. And I was horrified at what I saw. Every foot of every yard of every mile had plastic litter strewn along it. Plastic bottles, tins, paper, wrapping, rubbish, mess. Oh what are we doing to the world?? Then I noticed I could see further than I could in the past. Then I realised tens, perhaps hundreds of trees have been chopped down. There are piles of wood chips where they have been felled and some trunks are still lying there.

I couldn’t take photos but I wish people could have seen it. How much has it cost to do? What habitat has been lost? Why is it more important to fell trees than pick up the mess of litter?

There are signs saying the road will be closed for several days for road work’s  Perhaps the trees had to go because of that? In which case I hope they replace the trees with saplings. I will wait and see.

Curtains for you

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Curtains, you cover my modesty

Hide my imperfections,

You keep the warmth in, the heat out.

You stop me seeing the rain,

Shut out the traffic

Such a simple invention.

You divide rooms,

Seperate scenes in plays,

And yet you remain unremarked.

You can be cut down to make a dress

Or a gown.

You protect tapestries and paintings

From harsh sun.

You fade in sunlight

Get moth eaten

Eventually fade and die

Then it’s “curtains” for you!

Timothy Trow

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Sorry for the blurry photo. This is the memorial to a man called Timothy Trow.

I’d known about this for a few years but got a leaflet today and it explained he was a local hero 125 years ago.

Timothy Trow was from neighbouring area of Shelton. He was a conductor on a tram that ran along London Road in Stoke. When the tram reached the West End area of Stoke, at a spot near James Street, he saw a young girl who had fallen in the canal. She was later identified as Jane Ridgeway. He jumped into the Newcastle Canal and rescued her but he then got cramp and despite people trying to rescue him he drowned. All of this happened on 13 April 1894.

There is a memorial stone in recognition of his courage. In recent years our local Councillor has encouraged an annual commemoration. The local West End Methodist Church and local people have turned it into an annual event. One of my friends actually wrote a song to commemorate his bravery and a couple of years ago we walked along the course of the canal (which has since been filled in) and my friend sang the song next to the memorial stone.

International Women’s day

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A date to remember. Its international women’s day and also one hundred years since the suffragettes’ fought for the vote for women in Britain. The colours of purple white and green were used to signify their struggle.

It should be remembered that when they finally did get the vote it was only for older women who owned property…

International women’s day means freedom to me. The freedom to vote and be part of a democracy. The freedom to control your body and not be forced to do things you don’t want to. The freedom to own your own property and to earn equal pay for work of equal value.

As a woman I have seen years of inequality. I have seen mysogeny and misanthropic behaviour. But not everyone is like that. At the end of the day we need to learn to respect one another. After all women are not another species. Equality is still some distance away, people shouldn’t be judged on the way they look or act. Life can be hard work. With age comes experience. Women don’t need patronising it’s time for equality.

A lesson

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The old school walls were damp and the paint was peeling off them. There were holes where ceiling tiles had fallen down and sunshine had broken through the roof.

She walked between discarded chairs, the tables were stacked against the walls. At the front of the classroom stood one of those rotating chalkboards. Grey with layers of chalk.

She reached out and pulled on the join between the boards but the thing was jammed up, no movement.

She remembered the first day she had taught here. Registration followed by the history of the celts. Teaching about Boudicca and the ancient Britons.

Nowadays children didn’t come to school. They were all home schooled, isolated, plugged in. Teaching was easy. Link to the local computer by an imput in the cranium. Download all the information, sit in a chair and learn the curriculum.

She remembered the sweet feeling of imparting knowledge  The look of wonder when a pupil understood a new concept. Ideas flying from lips to ears to brains.

No more, no enthusiasm, just imput, data, no fun.

She sighed, closed the door to the classroom. She walked home.

Cycling home

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“I used to be fit.” The old timer said as he looked down sadly at his old bike. “I could ride up to the lake district, round Windermere and back home in a day. Now look at me, my knees are wrecked, my back aches and my balance makes me wobble all over the place.”

“You need to keep cycling though, I said, I know it’s tough, but if you stop now you will probably stop for good.”

“I’ll ride to Scotland and back he said, no doubt it will take some time.”

“But you don’t know the way. Why not try cycling on canal towpaths?” I suggested.

That was two weeks ago. I haven’t seen him since. Though I did get a post card from John o’Groats saying “in Scotland, can’t find the canal!”