Backing Up Journals

This is not a regular journal entry but I thought it would be of great interest to many of you.  I found links on Coy's journal.  Apparently some AOL members have had their journals deleted recently due to "errors" on the part of AOL.

Many of you have been writing for a long time and put on photographs of family, stories of your children growing up  and other things that mean a great deal to you and you would probably be very upset, to say the least, if you suddenly found your journal deleted.

There is a way to back up your journal so that it is not lost forever.

Instructions can be found at:-

Backing Up Journal Files

I hope this is useful to you.

Just to let you all know that this journal is closed until further notice.  No, there is nothing wrong so, no need for you to worry.  I have just decided to shut it for a while and think over whether I wish to continue it or not.

Family Tree Successes!

Well, I have been busy again on the family tree. Still no luck with the army papers I was after (Grandfather's brother) and I am not hopeful now.  However, I have had one or two breakthroughs I am very happy about.

When I first started collecting information, some twelve years ago now, one of the first things I started with was the army papers of my Grandfather.  Now, he had listed his next-of-kin as "Sister Mary" and an address.  I had no idea whether this sister Mary was a nun or a genuine sister.  Nobody in the family knew anything about Grandfather having a sister.  So I made many efforts to find any sort of a sister with no luck.

Several years later I managed through many twists and turns to track down where my great-grandfather had settled after he discharged from the army.  There were few records online at the time but those I searched turned up with nothing.  So, I wrote to the Hampshire records office asking if they had any burial records for a J.F. and stating a space of fifteen years.  I was stunned to receive a telephone call two days later from the Records Office telling me that they had found his burial and were able to give me full details including the date of his death (as a bonus they also told me that my great-grandmother was buried in the same plot two years later).  This lead me to applying for his death certificate and there, present at death, was daughter Mary!

To cut the story down a little, all attempts to find a birth for her failed (although I did trace her marriage) and I assumed that the birth records had been lost like those of her brothers.  I had always searched in Hampshire where the family settled.  Well, more and more records have come online and I was recently able to access the 1871 census.  Lo and behold, I traced the family and found Mary aged 10 and she was listed as being born in Dublin. Census records can be very innacurate but I took the chance and applied for the certificate stipulating it was only to be issued if Mary's father was indeed, J.F.  I received the certificate a couple of days ago and yes, it was her!  I love it when things come together.

My second success brought me even more pleasure because there is one line of my family that I have never been able to trace.  Due to problems caused by my Grandmother the family split apart and one of her daughters completely cut herself off from the rest of her brothers and sister.  I only knew the date of her birth and that she was baptized in Bermuda.  All attemps to find anything about her husband failed.

I have told people many times never to give up on their family trees because amazing things can happen.  You see, her husband was always known in the family as Rollie or Roly.  He was never known as anything else. My parents knew him as this as did my brothers and all my cousins who are much older than me.  So all my searching had been for a Roland, Rowland or Rowley.  Absolutely nothing.  I had searched for a marriage in Hampshire - nothing.  Year after year I kept trying and getting nowhere.

Then just ten days ago I was talking to a relative who just happened to drop into the conversation that Rollie was, at one time, a Page to the Archbishop of York, Cosmo Lang.  This immediately made me consider York as a possible place to look.

Back onto the web and searching for a marriage of a B.F. (my aunt) to an R.R in York.  I knew that they had to have been married either during or immediately after WW1.  Well, I only found one marriage of a B.F. but her husband, although he had the surname of R. had the initial H.J.  This made no sense to me.  Surely, he must have been called Roland or something similar.

I mulled it all over in my mind.  Was it worth spending out good money for a certificate?  I decided that after coming this far and after all these years, I might as well go for it.

The certificate arrived this morning and hey presto - it was the marriage of my aunt.  Her husband's proper name was Harold James and not Roland or a similar name!  There is absolutely no doubt as her address is given as the family home mentioned on other certificates, my grandfather is given as the bride's father along with his occupation (military). Not only that but the marriage certificate was signed by...........Cosmo Lang, the Archbishop of York. 

 So, after twelve years and looking in all the wrong places, the truth is found at last.

Today I was able to tracethe Father of the groom and I am now hoping to find the birth of their two sons.

So, I repeat never give up, never ignore conversations with other people, never assume relatives had to be in a certain area,  take into account possible nicknames or that the person used their second Christian name rather than their first,  take up the smallest clue.  It might well reap rich rewards!!!!!

 

St. George (for those that asked)

Under comments on my previous entry,  people have asked about St. George and what he did.  There are many different stories about St. George .  He is the Patron Saint of England. Scotland has St. Andrew, Wales has St. David and Ireland has Saint Patrick.  They all have different days.

I can do no better than direct you to my good friend, Sandra, who has done an excellent entry on St. George for those wishing to learn more

Sandra`s Scribbles

 

Sad at the loss of Sir John Mills who has died at the age of 97.  A wonderful age but it would have been so nice to see him make his century.  He contributed so much to British film and theatre over a remarkably long career. You always knew a film would be good if he was in it.  The last of his type, a man of many talents, a truly nice person, a devoted family man and a real gentleman.  Sleep well, Sir John.

 

Saturday

  HAPPY ST. GEORGE'S DAY!!!

 

 

Patron Saint of England.

Not a great deal to write about today. Weather is overcast and chilly unlike the glorious day we had yesterday.

The trees are really starting to come into leaf now. I love the fresh new green. Yesterday, I took the opportunity to go out with the camera and take a few garden shots.

 

Will post some more next time. Happy weekend everyone.

 

 

Added

Photo now added to previous entry.

Over To You.......

Well, I have related my spooky experience to you, the tale of the second haunting.  There are those of you who will believe, there are those that will disbelieve, there are those who will not be interested.

Now, I am passing it on to you.  I would very much like to hear about any strange experience that YOU or a member of your family have had.  Or, on the other hand, if you have no ghost story,  you can tell  us what you are frightened of.  I do not mean things happening to family, health or similar problems. It could be spiders, snakes, horror movies.  You decide what you would like to share and I will be happy to read it.

You can either let me know in comments or leave a link to your journal so that I and other readers can come and share.

After all , there must be something you are frightened of..........

In the meantime I will leave you with just one little tale.  When Becky was small, around the age of four, and she got tired of the garden she would spend a long time playing in her bedroom with her many toys.  One afternoon I went upstairs to get something from my bedroom.  I heard her chatting away and, pleased that she was having fun, I stopped to listen assuming that she was playing with her dolls.  Her door was closed so I stood with my ear to it.  I was quite surprised when she seemed to be answering questions.  She would say something and then seemingly wait for a reply.

Well, children are supposed to have imaginary friends, I know I did when little, but something struck me as odd about this.  She was answering in a very grown-up manner, I was spoken of, Mike was spoken of.  It went on for some time.  I was astounded because of the way she was speaking, not the way a child talks to an imaginary child friend.

Eventually it stopped.  I opened the door and went in. I asked her who she had been speaking to.  "Oh, the nice man with the birdie" she replied.  "Birdie" I queried, "what kind of birdie?".  She replied that she did not know but it was a pretty birdie all green, red and yellow. She then told me that "birdie"was sitting first on the man's hand but then on the man's shoulder.  My heart gave a little leap.  "Becky, what did this nice man look like?"    "He was like Daddy".  "What do you mean, he was like Daddy."  She pointed to her head and explained he had skin showing through like her Daddy, loss of hair.

I quickly ran into my bedroom, took a box from the top wardrobe shelf and rifled through. When I found the picture I wanted, I took it into her, very casually, not to pressure her or alarm her in any way.  She asked what I had got in my hand.  I showed her.  She jumped up and down and clapped her hands.  "That is him, she said, that is the man with the nice birdie" I can assure you that little Becky had never seen the photograph before. In fact, I had not looked  at the family photos for some long time myself.

The photo I had shown her was of my beloved Uncle Bill who was never without a parrot.  He died in March of 1968 and this was 1975! No, I was not scared. I loved my Uncle Bill very much, he had a heart of gold , a wonderful sense of humour and was a true character.  It gave me a lot of comfort to think that he was still watching over us.

Here is the very photo:-

Bill and his beloved friend.

Now, like I said - over to you................

 

 

 

 

Haunted Again - The Final Chapter!

So, life went on. With the approaching birth all my time was taken up with medical appointments, decorating the nursery, knitting baby clothes etc. etc. All seemed to remain quiet on the whole until after Becky was born. My mind was so taken up with her those first few months that I probably would not have noticed had anything been going on. I still felt uncomfortable at night but as I had to do night feeds, that took the edge off. I still hated crossing the hall and ascending the stairs but somehow I got used to it. Also, I was much more tired at night which probably all helped.

I still discussed things with the neighbours and questions had been asked in the neighbourhood. The following story emerged although I have never been able to establish its accuracy. It did come, however, from someone whose family had lived in the area for generations. The ground on which the housing estate - and our Close stood, had originally been all farmland and woodland. It was owned by a very eccentric family who kept very much to themselves. A Father, Mother and one son who never married. They were wealthy but only as far as the land went because they owned so much of it in the area. They had a very large and rambling property made entirely of wood with a long approach lane to it, at the end of which there was a very large wooden gate (seemingly the one or the remains of one I found in the woods). They were unsociable and much disliked. After the death of his parents, the son remained there alone, like a recluse and making a living however he could. He would not allow people on his land and anyone who ventured there would be seen off with a shotgun.

Well, one night, and nobody seems to know what happened, a fire broke out and the house was reduced to ashes along with its owner. For countless years the charred remains stayed, decaying more and more until nature overtook everything. For a long time thereafter it stayed as countryside and woods. Then the Council acquired it, there being no known owner, nobody they could now trace it to and so the land was turned into streets with countless houses. We just happened to live in the house that was closest to the large gate that was all that remained of the wooden house and their property. Only the land was left.

What really decided me that we had to leave, that I could not remain in the house any longer was  downto two things. Firstly, we had a very large hall. Large enough to accommodate a floor- to -ceiling bookcase that was made by Mike’s Dad, plus a chair and you still had room enough to hold a dance. It was a large space. Our telephone was in the hall in those days, sitting on the bookcase with my chair beside it so that I could relax and chat. Directly opposite were the two living room doors. As you already know, we lived in the back room. I always kept the front room door closed as this was our “entertaining” room whenever we had visitors and I did not want the cat and the dog in there dropping hairs. (I was much more house-proud in those days!) Mind you, I hated people ringing me in the evenings because I just did not like to be in that hall.

Well, one night the phone rang and I was sitting on my chair nattering away. As I sat down I glanced across and saw that the front room door was firmly closed as usual. I sat talking and paying attention only to the caller, swinging my feet and looking at the floor. When I glanced up again the front room door was wide open. I was a little taken aback, but thinking nothing of it really, I told my caller to hold on and walked across and shut it. It was a heavy door with a brass knob and it closed firmly with a loud click. I returned to the phone but, as I sat talking, I stared at the door. Suddenly, I saw the door knob turn, very slowly but it was turning and then the door was wide open again. I turned to ice. My quaking must have sounded in my voice because my caller asked what was wrong. I made some feeble excuse and said I had to go. I put down the phone and somehow forced myself to go and close the door again. I then retreated to the bottom of the stairs where I sat on the lower steps and watched. For around ten minutes - nothing. Then the door knob turned again, some unseen hand was opening the door! As the door flew open, I flew up the stairs, ran into the nursery, grabbed the baby and barricaded myself in my bedroom. What good I thought this would do, I did not know. All remained quiet for the rest of the night.

The following night, having given the baby her fed in the early hours, I retired back to bed for more sleep. I was lying there thinking of nothing in particular when I heard heavy footsteps coming up the stairs. I sat bolt upright thinking it must be a noise from outside. No, they were footsteps and they were inside and were now on the landing. They stopped outside the baby’s door!! Then I heard a loud report, a very loud report, just like a gun being fired.

Now, somehow you find courage from somewhere, especially if you think that your child or a member of your family is in danger. My main thought was for Becky - no-one or no thing was going to get her. I shouted at the top of my voice, flung open the door, saw nothing, went into the nursery, grabbed Becky from her cot and fled downstairs where I spent the rest of the night praying for the protection of the Lord. I put crosses up in all the rooms, but my mind was determined. I could not live here anymore.

That was it for me. I told Mike I could not stay in the place, I would live in a cardboard box but I was not staying there. We put the place on the market, we even dropped the price and made a big loss on the sale just to get rid of the place.

Luckily we found a quick buyer with no chain and it was only a couple of months later that we were able to drive away for good.

Do I still believe it was haunted? Yes, I most certainly do. I think the “gentleman” who had owned the land was furious that people were living on it. He had driven them off in life, he was trying to drive them off in death and he succeeded in our case. They say that when people die a violent or unexpected death, the spirit remains unquiet, trapped in limbo. Maybe he did not realise that he was dead and was protecting his property just as he used to in life.

I kept in touch with a couple of the neighbours for a long time afterwards, although one of them moved shortly after us.  Apparently the people who bought our house only stayed six months, the people after them lasted only slightly longer. So why should “our” house have been the one singled out for the most activity. Because “his” gate was directly behind it, our home would have been on the direct approach to his house. I had also uncovered the gate and taken Mike to see it and he had lifted it up and examined it.  "He" was not at all happy with us. That is the only explanation I can give.

Do you know, dear readers, that it has even given me goose bumps writing about it - even after all these years!

 

 

 

Hoax E-Mails

Well, I got suckered in this morning.  Received an e-mail about AOL stopping IM's later this year and then charging for them.  I did not know what to believe.   The e-mail came from someone I know and trust so I thought, better to be safe than sorry!!!

However, I guess after all the years I have been on the computer I should have known better.  I apologise to all of you that had it forwarded on from little old me. My face is red!!!!

To be honest, I hate stuff that is forwarded, unless it is a very funny joke or a really comical picture, information on how to do something on the computer  - stuff that is worth sharing.

I have often asked people not to forward me stuff.  One friend was sending 20+e-mails per day several years back.

So, unless you have something funny to share, please do not forward me anything.  I do not want to know a thousand and one things to do with salt, vinegar or any other household products. I do not want to hear about deodorants and cancer.  I am sick of stuff that says "you will have bad luck for x amount of months/years if you do not forward on."    "All you dreams will come true" if you do this or that. I do not want to hear about so-called school projects, appeals for money etc. etc. Also, when I am feeling very low as I do from time to time with my health problems,  it plays upon my emotions - well I am only human!  It clogs up my mailbox, it annoys me, I have enough rubbish to deal with as it is.

It is hard though when it comes from someone you know well.  I guess that is how all this nonsense works, you get a junk e-mail from someone you know and trust, you feel obligated to pass it on.

So, please dear readers, no junk e-mail, check if it is a hoax BEFORE you send it to me.  If you have something really worth sharing then I would love to participate.  If not, then please keep it to yourself.  In return I promise not to inundate you all with rubbish.

Once again - apologies

I will put the final chapter of my true ghost story on soon if people want to read it.

Brief entry - photos.

We had our favourite little man over.  He is extremely tall or long, however you look at it, considering he is not yet ten months old.  He had a tinkle on my electronic keyboard (he loves music of all types), spent quite a while opening and closing sideboard drawers.  It is the opening and closing he likes, he is not interested in anything inside, but we do keep a careful eye.  Then he had a long game of cowboys with Grandy who was the horse of course!!!

So I grabbed these quick photos.

It seems sad that he will soon need a haircut.  As you will see, he has beautiful hair.  Some woman spend hundreds of pounds to try and achieve that colour!

 

Haunted Again...Contd..

What a strange Spring we are having, yesterday was so warm and sunny, poured with rain over night, overcast most of today and bright sunshine again now.  Well, my appointment for BP reading has been put back for around two weeks. Problems, problems. I always stick with one nurse though and she is going on holiday and then on a course so I cannot now see her until the 6th May!  Whilst I do not like it hanging over my head, there is little I can do about it.  Only carry on and hope that all is well. Plus it does give me a chance to carry on with my healthy eating, try and get more exercise which should all help. 

Time to continue the story:-

Now, Mike has always said that everything must have a rational explanation. Not far from us was the railway, in fact there was a railway bridge about a quarter of a mile up the narrow lane which ran at the back of our property. He felt that some vibration had caused the door to slide and the glasses to fall out. I could not possibly see how - all the glasses, even the ones at the very back! In my opinion it would have taken an earthquake to also shut the cupboard door again. I was alarmed to say the very least. But what could we do, we could not afford to move again, every penny we had went into the house, all our furniture was second hand, it was to be another two years before we got our very own suite. We only had carpet in the hall and the front room. The rest, we made do with rugs. We had a baby on the way. No, we would have to make the best of it.

So, life went on. I loved getting up early in the morning and taking Shep the dog out into the lane where we could walk along next to a tiny stream and listen to the singing of the birds. Almost opposite our gate into the lane but slightly at an angle was a plank of wood that enabled you to cross the stream into the woodland. Shep would not cross. I did on quite a number of occasions but as soon as I got to the other side and into the woods I felt extremely uneasy. One day, having gone across I was looking at the woodland flowers at my feet when I noticed something large and wooden. I kicked away leaves and dirt and could make out part of a large gate, a very large gate. It would not have possibly fitted any of the properties. I could not understand how it came to be there. I got Mike to investigate and when it was unearthed, it proved to be very large indeed. For the time being it remained a mystery.

I gradually got to the know the neighbours, all nice people. Our house was part of a close, eight properties in a crescent shape at the end of another road. We were on the right at you looked onto the close and I got quite friendly with a young woman with two small boys who lived on the extreme left. I happened to mention to her one day that I hated going outside after dark, only to find that she had exactly the same feelings and always felt uneasy when she happened to be there alone. Not only that but she told me that another neighbour’s son had experienced something very nasty in the woods.

He and some friends were into camping and decided one night to try out his new tent. So late afternoon, they had made camp in the woodland and were all set for their great adventure that night. They lit a small fire, cooked their sausages, sat telling each other stories and then settled down to sleep. This boy had needed to go to the toilet sometime in the night so he left the tent and went a few steps into the woods. He was doing the necessary when he felt the hairs on the back of his neck start to prickle. He looked around and in the moonlight could clearly see the lane (and our property). He saw a black shape, blacker than all the blackness around it come gliding down the lane towards him. He blinked and shook his head. He looked again. It was still coming and he felt utterly frozen to the spot. Somehow he managed to yell at the top of his voice. At his cry his friends came running, they saw nothing but he was so seriously terrified that they ran home, leaving the camp. They got a couple of the Dads to go back and retrieve their stuff the following day. They all swore they would never enter the woods again.

I knew from all this and from what I had experienced in my previous home, that this was not imagination, this was not railway vibrations, this was a haunting and we had not heard the end of it yet………….

To be contd...........

 

 

Amazing!!!!!

I just reached the amazing amount of 1,800 people I am related to in some way or another on the family tree.  Well, 1,802 to be precise!!!!!  545 different surnames through inter-marriages and eighteen generations in all but not all on the same line. Ten years work but very worthwhile and much easier nowadays with the internet.

To think, when I started, I only knew about 30 people to put down.

Which reminds me, if any of you would like some research done, I would be happy to look for you but please bear in mind I cannot conjure something out of nothing. I would need some basic facts.

I can access the 1871, 1881, 1891 and 1901 census records and also births, marriages and deaths.  I would need the name of the person (it is much easier with males because, as a rule, they do not change their names) the place where they lived and if possible an occupation would help.  I could not possibly help if you asked me to look for a John Smith in London.  Anyone interested can drop me an e-mail and I promise I will try my hardest.

Best of all, if you are interested, it will cost you.........nothing.  I have a year subscription to the main site where I do my research.  As I have eleven months left of it, it would be a pity to waste it.  So scratch your heads, ask around for information and I will see what I can do.

Anyway, we are, apparently, ALL descended from one female.  So hi all you cousins of mine!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Off to make the dinner now but I am elated that this magic figure suddenly appeared on my screen congratulating me.  I like to think all my ancestors would be proud.

Haunted Again!

Where does time go? I cannot believe it is way back last Halloween when I left you on a cliffhanger by writing “ little did I know, dear readers, that I was leaving one haunted home only to walk straight into another.” (Those who missed it check out the entry for October 31st  last year.)

So, I guess time is well overdue for you to hear the tale of my second haunted abode.

Mike and I were engaged and looking for a home. As he worked away a good deal he said he would leave it all to me and that if I found something suitable, then go ahead and set the wheels in motion. So I spent hours going through property particulars. This one day I came across a house I liked the look and sound of so I phoned the agent who arranged a viewing that very day.

It was a glorious August afternoon. I took my Mother along with me and we soon found the place. True, it was much farther from the shops than I would have liked, you had to snake in and out of several streets to reach it. However, it seemed perfect to me, pretty front garden, large hall, good sized rooms. But it was the back room that swung it for me. Beautiful French doors onto the most delightful garden. The garden was filled with Roses of all colours and varieties, shrubs and some small trees. It did not need large trees because there was woodland right behind . In the large hedge at the bottom of the garden was set a wooden gate and you only had to open that to step out into a narrow lane and then across to the woodland. Being a nature lover I was bowled over by this.

So, I loved woodland aspect, the rooms were of good size, the price suited our pockets. I told the Agent we would have it. I was worried that when Mike returned and saw it, he would not agree. But he liked it also as it had a very large workroom to the side. The purchase went through smoothly and Mike moved in early November. That was when we decided to bring our marriage forward from the following year and go ahead and get married as soon as possible.

We could not afford a honeymoon, so after the service and celebrations we retired to our new home together. We were very busy the first few weeks, decorating, hanging curtains, Mike building a range of wardrobes in our main bedroom which was huge compared to what we have now. We chose to live in the rear room because of the French Doors and it was lovely to look out many times a day to see rabbits, foxes and all variety of birds visiting. I was so delighted to be able to see wildlife up so close.

There was one drawback and I could not say anything to Mike, because I felt silly. I could no bear to go outside the back door after dark. This was difficult because Mike worked away a great deal and I had to do things like put rubbish in the dustbin, let the dog in and out etc. I had an absolute dread of opening the back door after night had fallen. I put it down to the fact I had always liked horror films and knowing how forbidding woods can be in the dark, it was some primeval instinct. However, it got so bad I hung thick curtains at the kitchen windows and door so that I could not see “the dark”. At sunset, thick curtains were pulled over the French doors. On the odd occasion I had to go outside, my heart would thump in my chest, my hands would sweat, I felt sheer terror, there was no other word for it. To make it worse, the dog would suddenly look up and stare at something for ages. I could see nothing, but sometimes he would growl and this made me more uneasy. Then it got to be the hall. I had to cross the hall to go upstairs to bed and I hated doing it. It is not easy for a woman to be alone when her partner is working away and, as I had just fallen pregnant, I tried to put it all down to that. But I used to race up those stairs, dash into the bedroom and shut the door tight. I could not wait for sleep to come.

In the end I did say to Mike that I was not so sure of the house now, how uneasy I felt when he was away. He put it down to my being alone and also to the fact that pregnancy can affect women in strange ways. He laughed it all off.

One bright sunny afternoon I went into the garage to take something from the freezer for our evening meal. I happened to look up at the bare bulb hanging from the ceiling and saw some cobwebs on it, so I reached up to brush them aside. The next thing I knew I was thrown violently across the room, tingling from head to foot, an electric shock out of nowhere but at the same time I heard a man’s voice distinctly say “Get out”. I got back into the house and phoned my Mother who came around immediately. She was so worried about the shock I had received and the pregnancy. Luckily, Mike came home early that night and I told him what had happened. He immediately went into the garage and checked out everything. There was nothing wrong with any of the wiring, nothing wrong with the light. He touched it and nothing happened. It went on and off as normal when he tried the switch. He could not understand how I had received an electrical shock. None of us could understand it.

That weekend I sat Mike down and told him I was seriously worried. Something was “not right”. However, he could not understand. Mike had never had anything strange happen to him. He tried to calm my fears. But, he was soon to have his mind changed. That very Saturday evening we were sitting watching t.v. when there was an tremendous noise from the kitchen. It sounded like all the windows had blown in. As we had a cat as well, we thought he had knocked something over. We hurried into the kitchen. Now, the kitchen was a galley type, long and narrow. Work surfaces at the normal height but for storage there was a rang of cupboards above them, so high I had to stand on steps to reach them. This is where we kept all the stuff we did not use on a daily basis and in the end one, the one nearest the back door, we kept all our wine glasses and tumblers. The front of these cupboards were sliding glass doors, thick and opaque. Imagine our surprise, not to say horror, to see all our wine glasses and tumblers smashed to smithereens on the floor but on looking up…..found that the cupboard door was still firmly closed!

To be continued...........

 

 

Jokes

Three Irishmen, Paddy, Sean and Seamus, were stumbling home from the pub late one night and found themselves on the road which led past the old graveyard.

"Come have a look over here," says Paddy, "It's Michael O'Grady's grave, God bless his soul. He lived to the ripe old age of 87."

"That's nothing," says Sean, "here's one named Patrick O'Toole, it says here  that he was 95 when he died!"

Just then, Seamus yells out, "Good God, here's a fella that got to be 145!"

"What was his name?" asks Paddy.

Seamus stumbles around a bit, awkwardly lights a match to see what else is written on the stone marker, and exclaims,

"Miles, from Dublin."  

***************************************************

Two leprechauns went to the convent and begged an audience with the Mother Superior.

"Well, how can I help you little people?" asked Mother Superior.

The larger and more intelligent looking of the leprechauns asked  "Oh Mother Superior, would you be knowing of any midget nuns here at the convent?"

"No," says Mother Superior, "I don't have any midget nuns here at the convent"

"All right then, Mother Superior, would you be knowing of any midget nuns in all of Ireland then?"

"No, No," replied Mother Superior, "I don't know of any nuns who are also midgets in all of Ireland at all."

"Well then mother superior, in all of Nundom, in the whole world of all the nuns, would you be knowing then, of any midget nuns?'

"No, I would not, there are no midget nuns in the whole of the world!" replied Mother Superior,  "and would you please be telling  me what this is all about!!?"

The asking leprechaun turned sadly to the stupid leprechaun and said

"See, its as I told you all along -  you've been dating a Penguin"  

 ****************************************************

 

 

Angry!

Yes, today I am angry.  Families!!!!!!  Let me explain. I happen to live in the same road as my remaining brother but we have never been exactly close to say the least. That is not to say we have never had some fun times but they have been few and far between.

My brother has always been a difficult man. One of those who knows everything, has experienced everything and is never ever in the wrong.  His wife is even worse and has caused no end of problems in the family down the years.

As a Christian I have always forgiven if not forgotten. Well, over two years ago she caused a terrible row and I mean terrible.  Things got very nasty indeed but I do not intend to go into that here and we have had no contact with her at all.  Obviously, Mike is always bumping into my brother when he takes the dogs for their walks or is in the local shops and they have spoken in a civil way to each other.

Well, you know I have been working on my family tree .  I mentioned in an earlier entry that I was contacted by a cousin of my sister-in-law who wanted to make a connection with her and pass on family history.  I was in a quandry.  I did not like to admit we were not on speaking terms.  However, this information was not mine to sit on and as my sister-in-law is considerably older than I am, I turned it over and over in my mind.  Then this cousin said she wanted to send me family photographs and documents to pass on.  I knew I had to do the right thing.  I know how I would have felt if family history had been handed to me on a plate, so I swallowed my pride, turned the other check and rang my sister-in-law.  A very frosty reception at first but when I told her why I was ringing she was amazed and astounded and then got excited.  She was going away for a few days she said but gave me the go ahead to continue this contact with her cousin and another cousin who had by then joined in.

So, all the information was sent to me.  Yesterday morning, as they had returned from their trip, Mike took it all down to her, together with a proper family tree I had drawn up for her.  She rang me to say she was so touched by my act of kindness, that she could not thank me enough, howmuch it all meant to her especially now shehad found and could be in contact with two family members. She asked me if I could do some emails for her, passing on some details and their phone number (they have no computer).  I just said I was glad I could be of help and e-mailed her cousins right away.

So, comes this morning.  We were looking after Nathan whilst Becky went to aqua-natal classes at the local pool. I realized as I looked at him that he had never seen his great aunt and uncle and they had never seen him.  So, once again, I did the Christian thing.  I telephoned my brother, told him we were looking after Nathan and asking whether they would like to pop up and see him for the first time.  Oh yes, says my brother but you will have to give us about an hour.  I said that was o.k. and near the time they were due, we put the kettle on and got some cake out.

Yes, you have guessed it, they never turned up.  What is worse to me is that they did not even have the decency to telephone us to say they were not coming.  When Becky returned I explained we were waiting for them. She was not best pleased but understood, so she waited for another hour.  Nothing.

What do I do as a Christian, turn the other cheek again?  To be honest, with this couple I am out of cheeks to turn.  I am angry, hurt, bitter.  They say if you do good it comes back to you threefold.  Well, once would be nice in my case.  I find myself feeling sorry now that I ever told her about her family and ever got involved.  But what is done is done.

I know I did the right thing but it has only brought me more hurt.

I now feel it would be better for all concerned if we went back to having no contact with them at all.  Well, dear readers, how would you feel and what would you do in the same circumstances?

 

Sneezy Saturday!

Eyes and nose still streaming.  This is some cold.  Mike is still sneezing from time and time and coughing and he has had it for eleven days now!!  However, I thought I would do a posting before wrapping up warmly and settling down to watch Charles and Camilla's wedding.  If nothing else, I enjoy seeing what people are wearing!

I thought I would share another of my poems with you as it is some time since I posted one.  Although it is bitterly cold today, the sun is shining at the moment and out of the window I can see my plum tree coming into blossom and the buds swelling on the trees so it seems the appropriate time to post this:-

The photos were taken by Mike and are some of the other plants in flower in our garden right now.

SPRING SONG

An orchestra of Daffodils raise their golden trumpets high
And lady Crocus tips her purple bonnet to the sky.
The Bluebell woods are ringing and Primulas are springing
To display their gaudy show,
The lovers' arms entwining, their eyes so brightly shining
As Cupid fires his bow.

There's a billing and a cooing and birds are wildly wooing
And each must do his best
To attract a little lady, who in some corner shady
Is feathering her nest.

In the ponds there is a churning and bodies, twisting, turning
Mid the newly sprouted reeds,
By their jellied offspring floating, the frogs now sit a-gloating
And survey their mating deeds.

The fruit tree buds are swelling as if they are foretelling
Of riches yet to come,
The breeze is softly sighing and new-born sunbeams lying
On Apple, Pear and Plum.
Old earth is softly stirring, insects wings a-whirring -
The awakening has begun.

                                  ~ Copyright JMO 1996

As you can see, the garden is looking very colourful. Mike just rushed out and took the second group whilst I was adding my poem. So, even when the sky is dark, there are splashes of colour which stand out even more.

Hope you enjoy the posting and have a good weekend everyone.

Bug!

But not for long. I have an absolutely stinking cold and feel dreadful. Spent most of yesterday in bed and been there most of today.

Him indoors loves me so much that he could not wait to give it to me! Tuesday night I seemed o.k. and was helping Julie out with her pictures and graphics.  When I woke yesterday, somebody had installed a tap in my head overnight and left it in the "on" position.  I have not been able to read, compute or watch t.v. because my eyes and nose were streaming non-stop.  Now I have a sore throat as well and my chest feels tight.  As Mike has had an awful chesty cough.........well I just hope I do not get that bad because I have the doctors in a little over two weeks and I promised them I would be active in the meantime!!!!!!

Not much news otherwise at this end.  Him indoors continued the decorating.  Decided to change the hall as well.  Four years ago we decorated it and chose a sort of golden yellow emulsion paint with a hand-stencilled (by Mike) deep orange border to match the carpet.  Well, it seemed a good idea at the time!!  However, as we live in a bunglow, the clash with the new pale green and lilac bedroom was terrible and I could not stand it.  Great groans from lord and master but he did it in a day so it now looks like this:-

A nice Magnolia colour.  Cannot beat good old Magnolia, it goes with anything.

We had a tremendous hail storm this afternoon.  They came down so hard I thought they would smash the windows but now the sun is shining brightly.  They forecast it will be bitterly cold the next two days with snow in the north of the Country.  This seems to happen every year now, just as the blossom is coming on the trees and the spring flowers look so nice, we get a cold spell that spoils everything.  Still, Mike did get a nice picture of a tree in flower - surprise, suprise - A Magnolia - but a pink one:-

Not ours, it stands in a neighbouring garden.  Please excuse me for not visiting your journals.  I had 54 journal alerts and I simply cannot cope with them feeling like this.

I am having to squint now because eyes are streaming again and head is starting to thump. I am off back to my bed.  Even if I cannot comment right now, I am thinking of you all.  Hope this does not last too long, hate feeling this rough and it certainly will not do my diabetes or blood pressure much good!  Take care all.  I will leave you with something really colourful to remind you that Spring proper and Summer cannot be that far away.

 

A New Friend

Second entry from me today.  There is a nice journal out there that could do with a few more readers.  So come on your lovely people, go and pay Julie a visit at

random musings of my mind

I know she would make you most welcome.

St. Osyth Witches

Continuing on yesterday's theme, the village of St. Osyth is situated between Clacton

 

and Brightlingsea

 

St. Osyth suffered during the witchcraft hysteria that swept through East Anglia. Records which survive from the 1582 trial held in the County Town of Chelmsford show that fourteen women from St. Osyth were charged with Witchcraft.  Of these fourteen, ten were charged with "betwitching to death" and that carried the death penalty.

Here is the story.  The trial of these women seems to have been brought about by local quarrels and vendettas which was usually the way.  If you disliked a neighbour, had eyes on their property or land, had a quarrel with them or simply disliked them it was simple to accuse them of sorcery.  Of course, many of the women were old, ugly, deformed in some way or perhaps their minds were going.  Those were cruel times.

At the heart of this trial was one Ursula Kempe who was an impoverished local woman who made her living as a nursemaid and midwife.  She had a reputation for removing spells from those who thought they were being attacked by black magic.  Her trial was presided over by the the local magistrate, Bryan Darcy.  Witnesses swore that Ursula Kempe had cured Davy Thorlowe of illness using herbs and incantations but had later taken offence when the boy's mother, Grace Thorlowe, had then refused to use her as a nursemaid for her baby daughter.

When the baby somehow fell from her cot and broke her neck, Ursula Kempe was suspected of causing her death by witchcraft.  However, Grace Thorlowe, for her own ends, disregarded the rumours and approached Ursula Kempe for treatment for her arthritis.  Ursula suggested a method that she said she had learned from an old Wise Woman.  After treatment, Thorlowe refused to pay Ursula's charge of one shilling and a argument ensued.  Following this, Thorlowe's arthritis worsened.

So, Thorlowe decided to make a complaint to the authorities. Ursula Kempe was arrested, imprisoned and sent for trial.  During the trial, Bryan Darcy persuaded Ursula's illegitimate eight year old son, Thomas Rabbet, to testify against his mother and recount her activities as a witch.  Ursula was then offered clemency if she admitted her guilt.  Kempe was traumatised and scared so she accepted the offer and confirmed that her son had told the truth.

Ursula testified that she kept four "familiars" two cats called Titty and Jack, a toad called Piggin and a lamb called Tyffin. She claimed she fed them on white bread or cake and drops of her own blood. She stated that the black cat called Jack had caused the death of her own sister-in-law, while the lamb had caused the death of the Thorlowe baby and caused her to fall from her crib.  She was pushed and probably tortured, to name any other women that she knew to be witches.

She named Alice Hunt, Alice Newman, Elizabeth Bennet and Margery Sammon.  They were arrested and brought to court where they confessed to being witches as well and they, in turn, named Joan Pechey, Agnes Glascock, Cecily Jones, Joan Turner, Elizabeth Ewstace, Anis Herd, Alice Manfield, Margaret Grevell and Alice Hunt's sister, Anne Swallow.

Two of these women were not indicted, two were discharged as innocent of witchcraft but held on other charges, four were acquitted as innocent, four were found guilty but reprieved.  Only Ursula Kempe and Elizabeth Bennet were sentenced to hang, and hang they did.

In 1921, two female skeletons were unearthed at St. Osyth. What was remarkable about these remains was that they had iron rivets driven into their knees and elbows, effectively pinning them to the ground.  This was a very common method of stopping witches rising from the grave.  This was very strong evidence that these were the remains of Ursula Kempe and Elizabeth Bennet.

The county of Essex had the highest rate of witchcraft prosecutions anywhere in England due to one man, Matthew Hopkins, the notorious "Witchfinder General"

 

In less than one year, Hopkins was responsible for one hundred women being hanged. Chelmsford saw nineteen of them hanged on one day. It is estimated that between 1542-1736, one thousandpeople were executed for Witchcraft in England.  Although in films, witches are usually depicted as being burned at the stake, this was never the case in England where hanging was always the punishment.  Burning at the stake was usually reserved for heretics.

A startling fact is that Scotland, which only had a fifth of the population of England, saw four thousand executions placing it second only to Germany in witchcraft persecutions.

 

An Essex Saint

 

 ~ St.Osyth Priory

This is all the remains of St. Osyth's Priory situated on the junction of the rivers Stour and Blackwater in Essex.

St. Osyth was the daughter of Redwald, the first Christian king of East Anglia and his wife, Wilburga, daughter of Penda, king of the Mercians.

When Osyth was very young she was given into the care of St. Modwen in Warwickshire.  During her time there she was sent with a book to deliver. She fell off a bridge into a river and was thought to have been drowned but she was restored to life by the prayers of St. Modwen.

When she returned to her parents she was betrothed to Sighere, King of Essex. However, Osyth was not happy. She was of a spiritual nature and had decided to dedicate her life to God.  A great feast was arranged prior to the marriage.  During the feast, Sighere, a keen hunter, saw from the window, a Stag and he could not resist leaving with his friends to hunt it down.  Osyth saw her chance and slipped away from the celebrations and went to some local nuns begging to be allowed to join them.  They took her in.

Sighere was an understanding man and when he realised how devout Osyth was, he accepted her decision and let her take her religious vows.  He gave her the village of Chich and built a nunnery for and she became the abbess.

In October of the year 653 a band of Danes commanded by Inguar and Hubba landed in the neighbourhood of Chich and ravaged the country.  They eventually came to Osyth's nunnery and dragging Osyth out they took her into Nun's wood and commanded her to turn from Christ and worship their Gods.  She steadfastly refused.  They threatened to whip her and taunted her with even worse torments, but she continued faithful to Christ.

It is said that Hubba, by then infuriated with the young woman, grabbed her by the hair and hacked off her head and that where her blood fell a miraculous healing fountain spouted.  It is more likely that her throat was slashed  because Osyth was able to walk to the back to the church and rap on the door before she fell dead.

The martyred princess was first buried in the church of Chich which had been founded by her, but her parents soon removed her body to Aylesbury .  Many miracles were performed at her shrine and six years later her body was taken back to Chich and buried with great solemnity in Christ Church.

Her nunnery was destroyed by the Danes immediately after she was killed but the church of St. Peter and St. Paul now stands on the site of the church she founded.

In times long past when people in Essex went to bed "they did rake up the fire and make an X on the ashes and pray to God and St. Osyth to deliver them from fire and from water and from all misadventure."

According to local tradition, on one night of the year, St. Osyth revisits the scene of her martyrdom, walking with her head in her hand.

In the reign of Henry the first, the Bishop of London built a religious house of St. Augustine at Chich in honour of the great apostles, St. Peter and St. Paul and St. Osyth, virgin and martyr.

 

 

John Paul

In memory of Pope John Paul.  We are not Catholic but as Christians we share in the sorrow of all Catholics.  He was a very good man, a man of the people, a man who had great influence in the World.

His suffering is over and he has gone home to the Father he spent his life serving.  May he rest in peace.