Weekend Washout

Well, we had the usual Bank Holiday weather!  On Sunday Mike took himself out into the garden hoping to get some shots of the planes flying over.  The cloud was so thick and so low that we heard more than we saw.  We got the odd glimpse but nothing like it has been in previous years.  Still, I was able to snap Mike patiently waiting  - without him seeing me:

We do not have spotty dogs, those are rain splashes . I took this picture through a window.

It was too cold for me to sit outside. The family could not come over as Dean was busy dismantling a shed and also a small lean -to at the back of their kitchen in preparation for the builders next week and Becky is suffering a lot of bad back pain with this pregnancy.

Yesterday the morning started bright and sunny with clear skies so, once again, Mike got all ready to take pictures as it was day two of the Airshow.  Then the skies opened and he had to beat a hasty retreat.  It went on like that all day, heavy rain, thunder that shook the house and lightning, but in between bright sunshine and clear skies so he did manage to get some snaps.

This last one I am posting is the Essex Air Ambulance Service Chopper who do such a wonderful job in saving lives and rely entirely on voluntary contributions to keep them in the air.

Apparently, lots of the flying had to be cancelled due to the weather.  People were going to do wing-walking for charity but that had to be called off as well.  Such a shame.  The last few years the weather has always played up on Airshow weekend.

I think Mike was lucky to get the shots that he has.  I consider that they are pretty good as he has never had  any training and  is strictly an amateur.

Sandra and Sylvia, I will write about what you requested on my next entry.

Hope everyone has a good week.

Mrs. Dyer's Return (A ghost story)

Time for something a little different.  So, another murder and ghost story - this time combined in one!

 

The Evil Mrs. Dyer.

Mrs. Amelia Dyer. She was known as the “Reading Baby Farmer” Short and squat, grey and wrinkled, she was 57 years old. She was at one time a member of the Salvation Army. She was separated from her husband and decided to take in children at her home in Bristol. In Victorian times many girls found themselves pregnant with no husband to support them and no way of bringing up their children whilst having to earn a living. This is where Mrs. Dyer came in. She placed advertisements saying that she was willing and happy to board and/or adopt children. Of course, she charged a handsome fee for doing so. Many women paid the price - literally.

In 1895 she moved to Reading in Berkshire and once again continued to advertise. One day a bargeman working on the Thames fished a bundle out of the river which proved to be the body of a child. The bundle just happened to carry a Reading postmark.  Mrs. Dyer had already moved from her home. She used several aliases to cover her tracks. Shortly afterwards, two more dead babies were taken from the Thames. All of the babies had been strangled with white tape. Mrs. Dyer was careless. Maybe she had thought she would never be caught. After all, she had been evading the law for at least fifteen years and it is thought that she disposed of over fifty infants. However, when she parcelled the tiny corpses she left clues. It was inevitable that she would be caught. When she was eventually tracked down and her home was searched, the police found a mountain of baby clothes. They also found scores of heartbreaking letters from women enquiring as to their children and their whereabouts. When they searched the home of her daughter and son-in-law, a similar amount of clothes was found although Mrs. Dyer was to state that her family knew nothing of what she had done.

She was arrested in April of 1896 and taken to Newgate Prison. Without any sign of pity she calmly told the police “You’ll know all mine by the tape around their necks”. She was charged with the murders of Doris Marmon and Harry Simmons. In the meantime, more bodies had been taken from the water. Whilst in prison, Mrs. Dyer tried to commit suicide. She also pleaded insanity. In truth she had been in two asylums but only escaped into them when she felt the police were getting too close. It was decided that she knew exactly what she was doing, she was happy to accept the money from desperate women and decided to get rid of babies to make room to take in more. She made a full confession but showed absolutely no remorse.

This wicked woman was hanged at Newgate Prison on June 10th 1896.  Four years after her execution, the bodies of more babies were found in the garden of her previous home in Bristol.

But this is not the end of the story……………

Amen Court in London is where the Dean and Chapter of St. Paul’s Cathedral live. At the rear of the Court there is a large and dark wall. Behind it once stood the much feared Newgate Prison which was demolished in 1902. But there still remains a tiny passage which was known as “Deadman’s Walk”. The passage was so named because condemned prisoners were led along it to the gallows and were afterward buried beneath it.

Amelia Dyer was a prison in Newgate as mentioned above. She, like others before her used Deadman’s Walk to meet her end. On her way she passed a young warder, Mr. Scott. She stopped abruptly and fixed him with an evil gaze. Suddenly she gave a hideous grin and in a low rasping voice she sneered at Mr. Scott “I’ll meet you again some day, sir”. Moments later she was dangling from the end of a noose.

Years passed. Amelia Dyer was all but forgotten. Then just before the prison was demolished, Mr. Scott, now a very senior officer,  found himself alone one night in the warders’ room. His back was to the grille that looked out onto Deadman’s Walk. He suddenly felt a chill run right through him and had the eerie feeling that someone was watching him. Suddenly he heard that unmistakable voice repeating over and over “meet you again, meet you again”. He spun round to find Mrs. Dyer’s  evil grinning face staring back at him through the grille. He rushed at her but she disappeared before his eyes. Mr. Scott , although scared, was ready to put it down to his imagination until, the next moment a woman’s handkerchief fluttered down beside him from out of nowhere and landed at his feet!

Amen Court is also haunted by a slithering black shape………but that is another story.

Cloudy Sunday

Hello everyone.  The above shows another part of our garden.

And here is another view of the pond, taken looking back towards our home.  The yellow Irises are out as well:-

We had just had our cup of tea outside yesterday when we were disturbed from our quiet daydreaming in the nicest possible way.  Becky and Nathan arrived.  Dean was working so could not join us.  Nathan was fascinated with the pond. He is already attending swimming lesssons but cannot actually swim yet.  Children are drawn to water like magnets and Mike has not yet finished making the grill that will prevent him from falling in.  So to distract him I gave him a bowl of water to play with:-

Mum keeps a watchful eye

Of course he got absolutely soaked!!! Becky did not mind as it was a beautiful day and we soon took his clothes off and pegged them up to dry.  He is incredibly strong.  There was a lot of water in that bowl and it was quite heavy but he managed to lift it and empty it!

Our garden is quite a long one and Mike "walked" him down to the bottom at least four times and he crawled all the way back.  He was o.k. with the grass at least.  The previous day Becky had put him out on grass at her home and he screamed the place down. Well, due to the weather it has not been warm enough to put him on the lawn before and that was his first contact.  He obviously did not like the feel of it.  Happily he accepts it now:

He got so tired in the end but this is one little boy who does not like to give in.  Around about 5.30p.m. I had him in my arms and I was rocking him and singing to him.  For some reason "Falling in Love Again".  Well, he must have liked that because his eyes closed and he fell deep asleep.  He was not even aware of being carried to the car and strapped in, bless him.

Mike has been over at their home today helping Dean to dismantle a shed.  They have the builders starting work, tomorrow week.  They are having their home very much enlarged and the builders will be in for about three months.  I do not envy Becky with all the noise and dirt.  At one stage they are going to have to move out for at least a week.  Dean's parents have a caravan so they will be living there.  Becky is certainly going to have her hands full what with Nathan who is real livewire and being heavily pregnant.  Still, on the bonus side, we will probably see a lot more of her.  She will escape here for some peace and quiet whilst the builders are getting on with things.

The weather is very cloudy today.  Typical weather for the local air show.  It is the biggest free airshow in the country and it runs today and tomorrow.  For several years now the weather has always been cloudy for those two days.

However, we shall be outside plane spotting.  Although the actual show is about six miles from here, the planes all fly over and we get to see them.  Like to watch them, not so keen on the noise.  Whether we will get any photographs I do not know, they go so very fast.

Hope that you are all enjoying your weekend.  I am off now to put a chicken in to cook. 

 

Groundwork Done!

Another busy morning in the garden.  At last we have got everything planted that needs to be planted.  Now it is up to Mother Nature and the weather.  At least today it is pleasantly warm and we do not have the terrible humidity of yesterday.

We are pretty pleased with our efforts:-

The tall column you can see is our giant birdfeeder which is usually covered in finches.  At the bottom is the rabbit run.

It is all looking very colourful indeed.  It gets harder every year but we always say it is well worth the effort.

Now we are going to retire outside with a nice cup of tea and just sit back and enjoy:-

To be honest, I think we have earned it!!!! Boy, do I ache.

Whilst I am out enjoying the sun I shall be thinking up something for my next entry.

Bits and Pieces

These are some blooms from the Clematis plant outside our front door.

We had a busy day yesterday toiling out in the garden.  It was very humid which gave me a headache but I still enjoyed it.  Got all my Geraniums planted up plus some Nemesia, Lizzies and Petunias.  Re-potted a couple of plants that had outgrown their containers and trimmed back a tree and a couple of shrubs.  Takes us much longer than it used to, guess we are getting old!

The weather is supposed to be wet and windy over the Bank Holiday, so the plants will just have to put up with it. They were starting to look sad in their pots and I want them to get established so that, hopefully, they can withstand the very high temperatures they are predicting for July and August.

I am hoping that it will not be quite as hot as they say.  I simply cannot take extremely hot weather anymore but also Becky will be in the final stages of pregnancy and it will not be pleasant for her.  We know that our second Grandchild will definitely be with us on the 26th August.  Because of the problems late in labour last time, they have booked Becky in for a C-section on that day if baby has not arrived before.  Fingers crossed and prayers said that everything will be fine.

Had the sad news earlier in the week that I have lost a couple of cousins.  I feel particularly upset because I re-discovered them when doing the family tree.  They were astonished to hear from me as they knew nothing of me and my family since I was a small child.  They were both so helpful and gave me masses of information that I could not have obtained any other way.  Edna died on the 20th and Norman the very next day, the 21st.  I shall always be grateful to them.

I have been so pleased though that after tracing the marriage of my aunt in York I was able to find the birth of her eldest son. We knew he was a military man so bit by bit we were able to trace him and obtain an address. I took the chance and wrote to him.  Two days later I got an e-mail from him.  He told me I was very honoured because although he has a computer, he hates them and only uses his on rare occasions. The next step was to telephone him.  I was a little nervous, he is a retired Lieutenant Colonel.  He could not have been nicer.  He was astonished he had a cousin.  He knew nothing about his family whatsoever.  He was even more amazed when I told him he had lots of cousins.  He was not aware he even had aunts and uncles albeit deceased.  His mother, not getting on with our grandmother, (who did!) broke away from the family not only cutting ties with her mother but all her brothers and sisters.  So, her two sons grew up believing they had no family whatsoever!

John tells me he has three children, seven grandchildren and one great-grandchild.  He is going to provide all the information including data on the family of his late brother.  He is on holiday until June 9th.  As you can imagine, I can hardly wait for him to get back.  The family tree is growing yet again.

Have a great weekend everybody.

Normal Service Resumed

Thanks to Stuart Specimen Days my counter has now been rescued from the black hole it had fallen into and the figures are back to normal.  Now I am off to get some work done in the garden whilst the weather holds.

First Schooling

Well, of course, so many of you guessed the photograph yesterday.  It had to be Mike didn't it?!  He did not think I would put it on my journal.  The picture was taken when he was seven.

My first day at school. It was all a big adventure for me, not knowing what to expect. I remember arriving at the school gates and my mother being in tears, it upset me to see her upset so by the time she left we were both crying. However, my tears stopped when she assured me that she would be picking me up later, saying she just had some shopping to do and she would be back.

The school was a large building built in Edwardian times. Very high windows You could not see out of them. It was supposed to be like that to stop the pupils being distracted. So different from the bright and airy classrooms of today. The paintwork was all dark greens and dark browns, the desks worn and scarred by the doodling of many former pupils. The rooms seemed like vast caverns to me. A place that truly dwarfed me. However, that first day was such fun because all we did was play with toys and get to know our teacher. Miss Doyley was young, pretty and fun. I remember playing with all the other children and the sun streaming in through the windows. I had never had much to do with other children and I was painfully shy. That shyness was to lead to trouble in my junior school, but that is another story.

The following morning my Mother got me up again and told me I was going to school. I was mortified (if such a young child can have those feelings) and promptly burst into tears. “I have been to school Mummy, and it was fun but I do not want to go again, I want to stay here with you.” My first rude awakening to the real world when she replied to the effect that I was going to have to go to school every working day for at least the next ten years. (it turned out to be longer, I was almost seventeen when I left school).  I promptly dissolved into tears and begged and pleaded with her not to make me. I was scared stiff!

However, I soon settled in and can still remember learning arithmetical tables by rote, writing classes and learning to put words together. I think that is where I developed my love of language and literature - listening , spellbound, to a story being  read by a teacher. Of course I was only in the “infants” for a couple of years. Although I wasso very shy, I did mix more easily with boys. Mainly because one of the boys was Colin W and he and his family lived next door to us, our houses literally adjoined as they were terrace properties. At the age of six Colin and I had pledged our undying love and vowed to be married one day. I think we actually believed it. We used to  walk to school together and home again, hand in hand and he used to pick Daisies and Buttercups for me.

The truth of the matter was that when we were eleven and took the Eleven+ examination - I failed ( I think purely because I got so nervous over the exam and all the questions looked like Chinese to me) and he passed. He could now go on to Grammar School. I had to go to a Secondary Modern. He did not speak to me after that, he considered then that he was far superior to me. Years later I found out he had gone to the bad and ended up in prison. Such much for his education!

Anyway, going back to the boys. One of our favourite games was “horses”.

Three or four of us would link hands behind our backs and gallop around like mad. Usually me and three boys, Colin, Clive and Brian. One afternoon during break we were running around in this fashion when I lost my footing fell and somehow got dragged. It all happened so fast. I just remember severe pain, Colin running for help and myself ending up in the nurse’s office. In those days they did not send for your parents if you had an accident, nor did they ship you off to the hospital. You were just supposed to grin and bear it. I had skinned both knees, a large part of my forehead, all of my nose and part of one cheek. I was cleaned up and smothered in iodine. Then told to go back and play!

I remember walking back out into the hot sunshine with my face and legs stinging like mad, a headache and tears pricking my eyes. I wanted to go home. Just then I happened to look up and there, looking through the school railings was my Dad. It was one of his rare days off and he had gone to the Barber. On his way back, seeing children in the playground, he stopped to try and see if he could spot me.

I forgot my painful knees and my sore face and yelled “Daddy, Daddy” at the top of my voice. I will never forget his face when his saw this apparition coming towards him. Torn and dirty dress, blood on my socks, yellow knees and yellow face from the iodine and rapidlycoming up in bruises. He was furious and charged into the school demanding to see the Headmaster. The next thing I remember was him picking me up and swinging me onto his shoulders and carrying me home. I felt so special,I felt like a queen. At that moment I forgot all about my injuries. At that moment it was just me and my beloved Dad.

I had never felt more safe than on that hot and sunny afternoon with my arms firmly around his neck and my face on his shoulder.

I shall write more about my schooling another time.

Oh, the dress I am wearing in the above picture. I even remember the colours. The checks were in orange and brown.  To think I can remember that so very many years later!

Treasure Chest

This is my Hibiscus plant in bloom. I wish the English climate would allow for these wonderful plants to be grown outdoors.

Mike and I had a nostalgic afternoon yesterday.  He had gone into the loft to look for something he wanted and he came across an old wooden box we had forgotten about that had not been touched since we moved here.  He brought it down.  We opened it not knowing what to expect.  Inside we found some treasures.  Not treasures in the monetary sense but treasured memories.

There were all the congratulations cards we had received on the birth of Becky.  The first thing we noticed was how much nicer the cards seemed to be then.  I do not know why they just seemed better.  We went through them one by one.  We found one from my Nan who died just three months after Becky was born.  We came across names we actually could not remember.  They must have known us, we must have known them.  They congratulated us, they looked forward to seeing Rebecca, but we could not place the names nor put faces to them.  Strange how people can play such a large part in your life and then leave it. We pondered a long time on who they could be and wondered what happened to them.

We found Mike's driving permit from the R.A.F. and other military things, the announcement of our engagement in the newspaper, in memorium notices for his Dad, identity cards and ration books from WW2 and my old Pianoforte Grade 3 exam results. That got us talking about our past and Mike telling me what he remembered about the war, various houses he had lived in and I talked about things from my childhood that he did not know.

It was both a happy experience and a sad one, knowing that so many of the people that had written those cards were no longer with us.  However, we were both so glad to have found it and relive old memories. It made for a golden afternoon.

We came across quite a few old photos as well, family and friends.  I am going to leave you with one and now you can all guess  - WHO is it?

The Ghostly Chicken

Yes, the ghostly Chicken. Don’t laugh. Oh go on then! There really is a spectral Chicken (or it is reported that there is) that haunts a part of London although sightings have become rarer over the last few years.

Highgate, noted for its famous cemetery, is in north London and this haunting takes place in Pond Square, Highgate - named for a pond which once existed but was filled in during 1864.

The story goes that Sir Francis Bacon who lived between 1561 and 1626 was not only a politician, philosopher and writer but that he also dabbled in all types of scientific experiments. He is believed to have been the very first person to consider the possibility of freezing food to keep it fresh.

So in January of 1626, on a bitterly cold and snowy morning he decided it was the ideal time to put his theory to the test. He set out with a good friend with this idea in mind. He stopped on Highgate Hill to buy a live Chicken from an old woman who sold them . He immediately killed the bird, plucked it, gutted it and proceeded to stuff the carcass with snow.

Alas for poor Sir Francis. Going out in the inclement weather brought on a severe chill. He was immediately put to bed and it is said the bed had damp sheets which only worsened his condition and brought about his death.

Since his demise all those centuries ago, there have been constant reports of a phantom white bird, looking very much like a Chicken suddenly appearing out of nowhere in Pond Square, running around in frenzied circles and furiously flapping its wings. On one occasion a courting couple were startled when “the Chicken” dropped out of thin air and landed beside them. Despite many people reporting their encounters with this bird over the years, sightings seem to have tailed off since the 1970's.

Quite why it would be the ghost of the chicken I cannot imagine. One would think it would be the ghost of Sir Francis. Maybe the explanation lies in the fact that the chicken died suddenly and violently and Sir Francis passed away naturally.

It could only happen in London!

 

Iris

The Irises are out around the pond now.  How very beautiful they are:-

 

Getting There!

Well, slowly and surely we are getting there, putting things back on the computer bit by bit.  I shall be more vigilant in backing things up in future as I lost quite a lot of data.  Backing up is always something we intend to do and then somehow get sidetracked.  Probably because we think a computer crash cannot happen to us, it is something that happens to other people! So, I urge you all to carry out back-ups regularly.

I would like to thank my Son-In-Law, the wonderful Dean.  He started work at 5 a.m on Saturday and did a full day but he still came over and stayed here from 7p.m. until 3.30a.m. stripping down the computer and starting to rebuild it.  Thanks to Becky also for letting him spend all that time over here when I know they had already planned their evening together.  Dean worked again all day today but still spent two hours on the telephone with me this evening talking me through things.  He is a star.  The best there is.

Thanks also to Stuart for all the help that he has given me.

I am pretty exhausted as you can well imagine.  Only about three hours sleep last night by the time we got to bed.  So, I am leaving loading the rest of the programmes for the time being, having an early night and maybe a quiet Monday.

Obviously I have not been able to comment on your journals but I promise I will be visiting you again in the near future.

Please all cross your fingers that my journal and computer problems are over now.

Hope you all had a good weekend.

Offline

Due to severe computer problems which means clearing completely and starting from scratch, I shall be unable to post for the near future.

Hope to be back soon.  Take care all xxxxx

 

 

Brushes With The Law ~ Part Two

 

My second brush with the law was even more traumatic than the first. I had been working in yet another office but by this time I had already left. My parents considered it was a waste of my talents but I felt I had to escape from the confines of an office and try something entirely different. Well, my new job was certainly different - I was working in the meat department of a local supermarket. Talk about from one extreme to the other. However, I very much enjoyed it. I had far more inter-action with people which is what I wanted.

One afternoon I was washing out the meat cabinet whilst chatting to customers when the manager loomed into sight flanked by two large gentleman. He was heading my way so I look directly at him. He said, at the top of his voice, “Miss F. - there are two detectives here who would like to talk to you.” I nearly fell through the floor! Detectives! My mind raced, had something happened to my parents? I could feel my heart hammering.The whole place had gone silent. This was a small local supermarket and some of the customers in at the time knew me very well. Staff came out from behind the scenes having heard the Manager call to me.

I was escorted into the Manager’s office where they began questioning me about a Mr. M. Now, Mr. M had been my last employer. A foreign gentleman, very smart and well-groomed. Very courteous. The background is that he ran an estate agency, a one-man affair and he had advertised for a secretary and I had gone for an interview and been chosen. It was a small office, just him and myself, we sold properties, rented out properties. He also ran a small hotel with his wife so he would often be absent. He was very difficult to get hold off in the days before mobile phones. If I tried to ring him nobody seemed to know where he was. Eventually it was just me there most of the time running the whole show. Then, one day out of the blue, he called me into his office and said he wanted a serious chat. He then asked me if I would like to be his partner and take over the office completely. I was stunned. He went on to explain that it would mean putting money up. I explained I had no real money of my own, as he well knew, I was living at home with my parents. Well, he kept on and on and asked whether he could meet my mother and my father and discuss it with them. I was torn. Part of me said there was something suspicious in this and part of me saw it as a golden opportunity to achieve great things.

I approached my Dad. He was not happy. He agreed to meet Mr. M. and it was discussed. In the end my Father said no. Mr. M. accepted it and things went back to the way they were. However, I got heartily sick of being on my own all the time, no other staff to talk to. I had asked him if we could employ an office junior or someone to help out and he had refused. So, after a another couple of months I decided enough was enough, handed in my notice and walked away. That is when I decided I needed a complete break from office life and went into the meat department.

Anyway there I was, sitting opposite these two very serious detectives, looking from one to the other and totally bewildered. They were not friendly. They were not smiling. They were intimidating. I told them I had no dealings with Mr. M. since I had left his employ. They asked me what sort of phone calls I used to take, did I ever talk to people who seemed suspect, what sort of papers did I handle, did any strange characters ever come into the office (they did from time to time) had I seen any lists of names? I kept asking why they wanted to know these things, they would not tell me. After about an hour they said I could go home but they would want to see me again. I felt sick. My parents were worried.

The following week, two more detectives called at our home. They asked my Father about Mr. M. They quizzed me again, the same old questions over and over. Then they wanted me fingerprinted (again). All this time they told us nothing. They just kept on about lists of names, did I know where Mr. M. went during his absences? It all made no sense. I was duly fingerprinted. It was very hard to carry on as normal with all this going on. I was sure that as I worked with him and that there were only the two of us, they would assume I was some sort of accomplice to whatever he had done. I pictured myself being sent to prison.There was no basis for this whatsoever but I felt guilty and somehow ashamed, ashamed that I had been associated with this man. The supermarket Manager seemed to change his attitude to me and was no longer friendly.

A few weeks later, we had a third visit from the C.I.D. (Criminal Investigation Department). They informed us that Mr. M had been arrested and was facing very serious charges. They wanted to question me again so they could ascertain whether I could be a witness in the trial!!!!! Truthfully I told them all I knew which amounted to practically nothing. This time there were very nice to me and seemed to know that I was an innocent party caught up in something without even knowing it. Mr. M. had covered his tracks very well.

Apparently Mr. M. had been obtaining death certificates and false names, applying for and getting passports in those names and then selling the passports illegally overseas and making a fortune. He was also involved in drug dealing. Not only that but he had swindled several people out of very large sums of money. Thank God we decided not to put up any of ours. I knew nothing of all the goings on because, obviously, the estate agency business was a "front", he kept it all entirely separate although he could not stop a few dodgy characters entering the office now and again, but it takes all sorts and I just accepted the way they were. They gave me no reason to think they belonged to the criminal fraternity.

It was eventually decided that I would not add anything to the trial, they already had masses of evidence against him. I breathed a great sigh of relief. I had lain awake many a night and pictured having to appear in court. I do not think I could have coped.

We read in the newspapers later that Mr. M. had been given a very long prison sentence. What happened to him after that, I neither know nor care. I felt I could no longer go on working in that supermarket. They knew I had nothing to do with it but that did not stop me from feeling that things could never be the same.

So , back to secretarial work I went. This time I made sure I was employed by a large and well-known company with lots of employees.

Of course I was to meet the law in future years, in fact I went out with a very handsome policeman for some time (I wonder whatever happened to Malcolm?) Then there was the time a gang of drunken teenagers crashed their car through our front wall, completely demolishing it and almost part of our house. Then there was the dreadful time the police informed of us my brother' death. Hopefully my brushes with the law are over now. Neither of these incidents was funny at the time and are not funny now, but who would have thought that those experiences from my youth would now be fuel for my journal!

My Brushes With The Law

Why is it that you feel guilty when being questioned by Policemen, even if you have done nothing wrong.

I have had two “brushes” with the law and both times I felt like a criminal. I thought you might like to hear about them.

The first one happened when I was working in an Accountants office. When I say office, it was a converted Victorian house that still retained all its features like French doors onto the rear garden. My desk was directly next to those French doors. I had stayed on to work late one summer evening, just me. I quite enjoyed it, had the doors opened, the scent of plants coming in from outside and the warm evening sun. I finished my work, washed up my teacup and then closed and locked the French doors firmly. I checked that everything was secure and then went out through the heavy front door, locking it behind me and putting the keys into my bag.

The next morning I arrived at the office to absolute pandemonium. There had been a break-in! There was not much to take except the petty cash box but the people responsible had trashed the place. The French doors were smashed and had blood all over them (one of the villains must have cut himself quite badly). They had the cheek to go into the kitchen and make themselves a cup of tea and devour all the biscuits, so they must have taken their time.

The police arrived, finger-printing began on all the surfaces, on the smashed glass, door handles, in fact - every surface - and then it was our turn. All eyes were turned to me because I had been the last to leave. I knew I was not responsible. After all I had locked those doors and here they were - smashed and broken. Nevertheless, a policeman took me to one side and quizzed me and quizzed me as to what time I had left, had I locked up, had I noticed anything suspicious, how long had I worked there? He even asked me about boyfriends and associates of mine. The questions seemed to go on for hours and hours. Then I had my fingerprints taken. I felt so guilty, heaven knows why.

I did not get much done that day, I felt that everyone was looking at me, thinking that somehow, I must be involved.  I could hardly read my shorthand back and could not wait for the day to be over. Things did quieten down over the next few days, of course, and eventuallythe culprits were apprehended, caught red-handed doing another burglary in the same area. Three youths. The police were nice enough to come back and tell us and assure us that our fingerprints would now be destroyed.

Still, as you can imagine, I never worked late in that office again!

I will tell you about my second brush with the “boys in blue” next time.

Testing with pond pictures

I am adding these pictures again for all who missed them the first time around and also to try out the smaller sized pictures to see if I get any problems.  Would be grateful if people can let me know they are receiving them A o.k.

No You See Them, Now You Don't

Well, after all the hassle of yesterday, I got my pictures back this morning.  Until just a while ago.  Now they have completely disappeared again and for no reason that I can possibly think of.

I will be back posting when it is fixed. 

Something Has Gone Wrong

Well, dear readers, something has gone wrong and I am not sure what.  NONE of the pictures are appearing in my journal, not even in older entries or in All About Me.  In case I have run out of ftp space I have been back to much earlier entries and deleted the pictures and graphics from them and also from ftp so that they are no longer stored.  It has made no difference whatsoever.  Whether this is just a problem with my journal or with AOL I have no idea but I shall not be doing any more posting until it is sorted out.

 I did notice that when I did the posting I had the old welcome screen, now I have the new one, whether that would have affected it in any way I do not know.

If anyone has any ideas, please let me know.  Thank you.

Wartime Photo

The weather seems even colder today and we have had to put the heating back on.  Some Spring this is turning out to be.

Beautiful pictures always make my day, we all love them I know, so to view wonderful shots taken by a really good photographer, please visit Deborah - she would love to see you and you know you can spare a minute - oh yes you can!   Deborah can be found at:-

Whirled Piece

 

Not got a lot to write about today, all very quiet on the home front.  As we have been remembering VE day of late I thought I would share this old photograph with you.  It was taken when my Father was in the ARP before he got called up into the Royal Artillery during WW2. Not exactly VE day celebrations but very evocative of the war.

I like to think that I look like him. He was a wonderful man, a tower of strength, a true gentleman, always full of wisdom and always helping others behind the scenes and never taking credit.  I miss him.

Friday Laugh

Well, at last I am starting to feel somewhat better apart from the fact that antibiotics always upset my stomach and I still have a few days on them.

I do not know whether anyone else is having any problems with journals. I find lately that when I go into my journal some pictures and graphics do not appear.  All you get is a white box with a red cross.  I also get this when visiting the journals of others.  Somebody gave me this tip and I am sorry but I just cannot remember who the person was but if she reads this, thank you.

I am putting it on here as it might help others.  If you go to a journal and get the old white box/red cross,  right hand click on the red cross. You will get an option to "show picture".  Click on that. The picture or graphic then appears.  It has worked for me everytime.

Now for a little bit of Friday fun, a joke for you:-

A man goes to visit his 85-year-old Grandfather in the hospital.

"How are you Grandpa?" he asks.

"Feeling fine," says the old man.

"What's the food like?"

"Terrific, wonderful menus."

"And the nursing?"

"Just couldn't be better. These young nurses really take care of you."

"What about sleeping? Do you sleep okay?"

"No problem at all --- nine hours solid every night. At 10p.m. they bring me a cup of hot chocolate and a Viagra
tablet, and that's it. I go out like a light."

The grandson is puzzled and a little alarmed by this, so he
rushes off to question the Nurse in charge. "What are you
people doing?" he asks. "I'm told you're giving an 85-year-old Viagra on a daily basis. Surely that can't be true?"

"Oh, yes," replies the nurse. "Every night at 10p.m. we give him a cup of chocolate and a Viagra tablet. It works
wonderfully well. The chocolate makes him sleep, and the
Viagra stops him rolling outof bed."   

 

Have a good weekend everyone!

   

   

The Murderous Quaker

This is for Sandra of Sandra's Scribbles (link on left) who expressed an interest in hearing about a murder that took  place in her neck of the woods:-

The year was 1845. The newspaper headlines were full of the murder of Sarah Hart, a young woman who lived in Salt Hill, Slough, Berkshire. Sarah had got involved with a married man called John Tawell and had a long-standing affair. She claimed that he was the father of her two children. She repeatedly wrote to Tawell requesting money for the upkeep of herself and the children. Tawell was very worried that his wife would discover his involvement with this young woman.

He called to visit Sarah on New Year’s Day, 1845 and murdered her by giving her a drink of prussic acid. A neighbour heard Sarah’s screams of agony and went to find out what was happening. The neighbour saw a man dressed in Quaker garb hurriedly leaving Sarah’s house. The neighbour sent for the police and the police ascertained that a man clad in similar clothes had been seen at Slough railway station boarding a train to London. The police wasted no time and used, for the very first time, the newly installed telegraph system to inform the London police. When Tawell’s train arrived at Paddington station, he was greeted by a welcoming committee who promptly arrested him.

Tawell, although a Quaker, certainly did not live by their teachings and was a convicted criminal out on probation after serving a long prison sentence for fraud. At his trial a chemist who owned a shop in Bishopsgate in the City of London stated that Tawell, whom he recognised, had purchased prussic acid on the 1st January.

His defence council claimed that Sarah had met her death accidentally and had actually died due to eating apple pips. Apples had been found in her room. However, the prosecution showed that the only way this could have happened would have been if Sarah had removed the pips, crushed them and distilled them and then drunk the liquour! On the  14th March 1845 the jury found Tawell guilty and he was sentenced to be executed at Aylesbury on the 28th March. His execution was not carried out in or outside a prison but from the County Hall which had a large iron balcony outside the upper floor. A beam jutted out from the wall immediately above the balcony and there was a trap door in the floor. Huge crowds gathered to see Tawell meet his fate. The executioner, known for using a short drop, had made it even shorter than usual and Tawell took ten minutes to die from slow strangulation.

 

Finally thanks to my friend Angel  - link on top right, for the delightful tag she has just made me.

Miserable Monday

Well, this flu bug has gone to my chest now as it has done with Becky.  She is very unwell which is not good in pregnancy.  I have been cough, cough, cough all day and bringing up awful and discoloured phlegm and I am very wheezy.  Decided I had better try and get some anti-biotics.  Hate to take those things and I know they are over-used but when you have an infection and I most definitely have........

So we contact the doctor.  Remember it is Monday and doctors are busy after a weekend.  Would you believe they have no doctors on today!!!!!  One is off sick, one has done his morning stint and gone home.  The very nice lady doctor who had joined the practice and whom I mentioned some time back as having been very helpful to me , has left!!!  They just cannot keep doctors there, we have new locums practically every week and it is obvious why.  The two partners do two half days per week each and not one hour more.  Other than that it is left to whomever they have taken on to run the practice practically single-handed.  Nobody is going to stand for that so after a few weeks they depart.

As nobody but a doctor can sign prescriptions, there is nobody there to authorise any medications today.  The receptionist told us they are ringing around frantically trying to find a doctor to come in.  If they have been lucky then I shall know when I phone  again at 5.30p.m  as requested to see if a a prescription is ready for me.  If not, I have to try again tomorrow.  In the meantime I continue to cough and cough and to feel ever more unwell. Tony Blair ought to try being registered with our doctors!

So, I am not a happy bunny I can tell you.  In fact, I think this afternoon I shall retire to my bed and sleep.  Not a good start to the week. Oh well, hopefully things can only get better. Hoping that Becky improves quickly although she is lucky and has marvellous doctors. She phoned for an appointment this morning and got one straight away for her and for Nathan as they are both ill. So, at least she is being well looked after.

Well, no use moaning on.  Have to make the best of it and hope I get anti-biotics soon.

 

The Biter Bit!

Hangman William Marvell was convicted of theft, two of his sons were hanged and a third son was transported to the colonies.

German executioner Friedrich made a considerable sum with his sideline of making counterfeit coins.  He was caught and burned alive.

Another German executioner plotted against the authorities and for his pains suffered beheading at the hands of his own assistant.

English executioner John Thrift was so soft-hearted that he cried as he wielded the axe whilst decapitating Scottish Lords. This can hardly have improved his aim!

Henri-Clement Sanson lost his job when on being summoned to carry out an execution it was found that he had got into debt and had pawned the guillotine.

Charles-Henri Sanson had once been a lover of Mme Du Barry - a lover in the truest sense of the word.  During the French Revolution he had to restrain her frantic struggles on the scaffold and then behead her.

Gabriel Sanson neglected to look where he was putting his feet, slipped on the blood-soaked boards of the guillotine scaffold, fell off the platform and broke his neck!

 

Taken from William Calcraft - Executioner Extra-Ordinaire by Geoffrey Abbot.

 

 

 

A Demon In London

Spring-Heeled Jack first leapt out of the shadows and into the mysteries and romance of London, in the Autumn of 1837. Rumours spread around about a strange and terrifying creature who could leap hedges and rooftops and breathe fire from his mouth, but few people took them seriously - at first!

However, the rumours persisted of how this "demon" attacked people - mostly young women.  It would seem that he would hide himself behind walls or hedges and leap out on unsuspecting travellers. Usually he would tear their clothes with the long claws on his hands, and breathe flames into the victims' faces. Then, with his victims still in a state of shock , he would bound away in huge, leaping strides which covered great distances at each step. The thing about this devil/man which most stuck out in the minds of the victims were his terrible, protruding, hell-like eyes, and his hideous ringing laughter, which echoed in their minds for days afterwards. Concerned citizens formed vigilante groups to try and track down the monster , and at one point the Duke of Wellington was involved setting out on horseback every night with his pistols to try and bring Spring-Heeled Jack to justice. It was no use. Jack continued his reign of terror.

His ability to leap over high obstacles made him extremely difficult to catch. He had also added the act of terrifying coach-drivers to his list of other activities. The attacks reached a climax when, in the winter of 1838, he moved his activities into the city  of London itself.

 The first of these London attacks took place on a dark February night. Lucy Scales was walking home with her sister from their brother's house along a lonely street in the Limehouse district. As they passed Green Dragon Alley a tall cloaked figure bounded out of the shadows at them. He spat blue flames into Lucy's face, blinding her. As she lay writhing on the ground, Spring-Heeled Jack calmly turned around and melted back into the shadows.

Panic spread over the city of London. Up until now, his  activities had been centred around the surrounding towns and villages along the Thames. Word spread quickly: Spring-Heeled Jack was on the prowl in London itself!!

He struck again a few nights later. The Alsop family was spending a quiet evening at home, when a violent knocking was heard at the front door. Jane Alsop  got up to answer it. When she opened the door she saw a man standing in the shadows near the front gate. He swung around. "I'm a police officer," he said. "For God's sake, bring me a light, for we have caught Spring-Heeled Jack in the lane!"

As Jane ran to fetch a candle, she thought how exciting it would be to see Jack arrested. When she gave the candle to the man at the gate, she realized she had made a terrible mistake, for the man held the candle up before him and revealed the hideous features of Jack himself! Jane screamed as he spewed forth a huge amount of flame from his mouth. He then grabbed her and tore at her clothes with his sharp claws.

She tried to get away, but the Jack grabbed her again her and continued his attack. Hearing her screams, the whole family ran to her assistance, but Jack bounded away down the road, and was soon lost to sight.

Jane described her inhuman attacker to the police, saying that he wore a tight oilskin suit, and a kind of close-fitting helmet on his head. Jack is often shown in pictures as having devils horns and sharp claws.

Jack made a similar attempt a few nights later at another residence, but a servant boy realized who he was and began yelling for help. Jack escaped again, this time thwarted.

Throughout the 19th century, Spring-Heeled Jack was sighted all over England. After a brief period of inactivity  he was seen time and time again in the 1840's and 50's. He frightened army sentries in the 1870's, bydarting out of the darkness and slapping their faces with a cold, clammy hand before leaping onto the roofs of their sentry boxes. Angry townspeople shot at him in the streets one night in 1877. As usual, he laughed and melted away into the blackness.

Jack was last seen in 1904 in Liverpool. There, he terrified people by bounding up and down the streets and onto their rooftops.  When attempts were made to corner him, he just disappeared. This was the last reported sighting. 

It is thought that the original ( there were probably copycats) Spring-Heeled Jack  was an Irish nobleman, The Marquis of Waterford, who was renowned for his sadistic taste in practical jokes, and his scorn for women.

It is believed that Waterford's idea for the character of Jack was conceived due to a humiliating experience with a woman.  Waterford thought up the idea of Jack as as a prank and to get revenge in general.  Waterford had friends who studied mechanics and it is possible they could have helped him invent special boots with powerful springs in the heels to help him scale heights and that he learned the art and technique of "fire-eating." Waterford was known to have strangely protuberent eyes, which matched the descriptions of Jack. He was also in the area when many of the attacks occured. As a final piece of evidence, the servant boy who scared Jack away saw a crest with the letter "W" on the man's cloak.

Demon or man?  The truth can never been known for sure. Jack disappears into history and myth but I remember as a little girl, if somebody knocked on our door at night, my Father would say "that is probably Spring-heeled Jack!" so I was raised on tales of this demonic creature, whom, thankfully, I never saw!

Fooling Around

A cold and overcast day but not as windy as yesterday. The area has been very quiet and I have not seen many people going off to vote (the polling station is just around the corner from us) - maybe a lot of them will be going this evening. Thankfully we will not have to endure endless radio, t.v. and newspaper coverage after today - well apart from dissecting the results of course.

I must thank our friend Sandra of Sandra's Scribbles (link on left) for my posting today.  A couple of days ago, she put on a very colourful photograph she had been playing around with.  So, last night I decided to have a fool around for myself.  So many different effects to choose from but I came up with just four, the four I enjoyed the best.

Here is the original photo (taken in our garden)

And this is what I did with it:-

Due to some technical difficulties I have had to temporarily remove these photos.  Hope to put them back another time.

 

Top left - Solarized, top right - Inverted

Bottom left - Cartoon, bottom right - Stained Glass

All strangely beautiful in their own way although Mike says the bottom right one looks more like a honeycomb!!

Let me know which one of the special effects, you like the most. 

Have a good day.

 

The Way Through The Woods

Whenever Mike takes the dogs out, he always takes his camera - you never know what you will come across.  A couple of days ago he took our boys in another direction and came across this overgrown footpath. He thought it would make a pretty shot.  As soon as I saw it I immediately thought of a poem I had known and loved for years.  You know me and poetry - it is something I care for deeply.  I particularly like anything of a mysterious nature.  A picture in words where you can add any story that you might wish .   So, I thought I would share it with you today.

Here is the picture and following is the poem:-

 

 

The Way Through The Woods ~ Rudyard Kipling.

They shut the road through the woods
Seventy years ago,
Weather and rain have undone it again,
And now you would never know
There was once a road through the woods
Before they planted the trees.
It is underneath the coppice and heath
And the thin anemones.
Only the keeper sees
That, where the ring-dove broods,
And the badgers roll at ease,
There was once a road through the woods.

Yet, if you enter the woods
Of a summer evening late,
When the night-air cools on the trout-ringed pools
Where the otter whistles his mate,
(They fear not men in the woods,
Because they see so few.)
You will hear the beat of a horse's feet,
And the swish of a skirt in the dew,
Steadily cantering through
The misty solitudes,
As though they perfectly knew
The old lost road through the woods....
But there is no road through the woods

 

Mike also came across these two beautiful creatures

 

 

There is such beauty, even in the ordinary, the everyday.  It is there just waiting, when we take the time to look.

***Postscript - Our friend Sandra is feeling very low at the moment due to a bereavement.  We all have times in our lives when we need that little bit of extra support, so if you would like to leave her a message please visit:-

Sandra`s Scribbles

 

Growing So Fast

Tuesday mornings we always look after Nathan.  Had a surprise when he came this morning.  He had received his first hair cut!  Becky did it herself. She is very good at those sort of things, she cuts mine, Mike's and Dean's although she has never had any training, she just has a flair for it and the confidence to do it.

She said she felt sad and a little upset cutting his hair for the very first time but it was getting so long and growing down over his ears.  She has collected the cuttings and put them into a jar until she can get a special memento box to put them in. It brought back memories to me of her first hair cut.  Of course, I did not do it myself. I took her to the hairdresser and what with paying afterwards and chatting, I forgot to keep a piece.  I have always regretted that.

He looks so grown up now. A real little man. He was ten months old last week. Already he pulls himself upright and can even manage a couple of steps holding on to his walker before he gets totally stuck. 

Here is his new look.  Isn't his hair gorgeous?  If he keeps that colour, with those big blue/grey eyes, he is going to break some hearts when he grows up. This picture was taken in our garden today. We made the most of what sunshine we had.

He is a loving little boy, always smiling, always laughing, a real joy to be with.  We are such proud grandparents. God sent us all a  true blessing.

 

 

A Remarkably Fine Woman

She was born in Mexico in 1834. Taken from her Mother by some herders who were looking for a stray cow. They placed her in a Childrens' refuge. She was then taken into the home of the new Governor where she worked hard but in return was given an education and access to books. She could speak Spanish, English and some French. She loved singing and dancing and made all her own dresses. She remained in the Governor's home until she was a young woman of twenty. She decided she wished to return to her own people. As nobody knew who they were this was impossible  so she set out into the world by herself.

On her journey she met a Mr. Rates, an American impressario. He asked her if she would like to make a career upon the stage. He assured he that she could make a lot of money and he would be sure she was well cared for. She quickly agreed. Actually there was not much else she could do. There was little choice for someone like her. You see, she was different. She was what was called a "nondescript - I hate to use the word, but it was the word used then -  a "freak". There were many people in the same position , Joseph Merrick, the Elephant Man, being but one.  I hate the word freak, I loathe it.  I prefer to call them "different" or "special." Earlier this year somebody asked me if I had ever seen the film "Freaks" which was made in 1932 and incidentally, was banned in Britain for over thirty years.  I admitted that I had and that I had watched it with strange fascination (maybe it is inherant in us all to be fascinated or intrigued by something or somebody different) and also with distaste that these "special" people were being used in that way, some of them not understanding that they would be stared at by millions of cinema goers.  On the other hand, it gave them a living, people like P.T. Barnum treated them very well. Many of them married, some to other special people, some to normal partners.  They were protective of each other and made the best of their lives that they could.

That was the start of the career of Julia Pastrana ( the name that was given to her in the Childrens' home), who was to be billed as "The Ape Woman",The Baboon Lady" or The Ugliest Woman In The World". This remarkable and brave lady stood only four feet six inches tall, had  a hugely over-developed jaw and was covered in black silky hair all over her body except for the palms of her hands and the soles of her tiny feet.  In those far off and unenlightened times, people really did believe she was a hybrid, a cross between a human being and an ape.

Despite her appearance, Julia was kind-hearted, friendly and very intelligent. She could read and write thanks to the Governor. She also played the guitar and sang English and Spanish songs. She had tiny and very graceful feet and could perform all sorts of dances including the Highland Fling. She was first exhibited in America where she was a great success (thankfully those days are behind us now) and also in Europe.

Eventually Mr. Rates got an offer for her that he could not refuse so her new "Manager" was Theodore Lent and they went on tour for several years. Julia was lonely because she was not allowed out. Lent reasoned that people would not pay to see what they could see walking down the street in broad daylight. Julia would occasionally be invited to a party which she loved and people were struck by her charm.

Lent was worried, people were approaching him with huge offers for Julia and it was only a matter of time before they approached her directly. Fearing for his livelihood he promptly decided to marry her. Julia was delighted. She believed that somebody loved her, loved her for herself, loved her despite her looks  and so she agreed. The touring continued. Julia found that she was pregnant and was so overcome with delight.

While in Russia, Julia was delivered of her son.

When they put the baby into Julia's arms, she cried. He had been born hairy like her. The baby lived only 35 hours and five days later Julia herself passed away from complications of labour. She had a very small pelvis and the baby had weighed 8lbs. Some say that she died of a broken heart.

Lent was now deprived of his star attraction and of his major income. He had Julia and their son embalmed and put on display where he continued to make a good deal of  money from them. How heartless can this man have been? He soon found another "hairy" woman to marry and often got her to pretend she was Julia or Julia's sister. The second wife had to contend with being displayed alongside the bodies of his first wife and child which were housed in a glass case. Ultimately Lent went insane and was confined to an asylum. Maybe Julia got her revenge after all.

This was not the end of Julia's  travels.  After the death of Lent, his second wife sold Julia and her son. For around 160 years she continued to be exhibited all over the world in carnivals and sideshows that got ever more tacky. She was damaged when some boys broke into her glass case thinking she was a model.  Her baby son was thrown into the rubbish.

Her body is now in an Oslo Hospital, hidden away from the public eye among specimen jars of all descriptions. Kept in case her DNA can provide information sometime.

It is to be hoped that Julia's battered and damaged body  will one day rest in peace. She was a truly courageous and brave woman. Despite her terrible handicaps, she went out into the world, made a life, was liked by people, if she was bitter she never showed it. Charles Darwin said of her " Miss Julia Pastrana, a Spanish dancer, was a remarkably fine woman".

She deserved better.

 

Julia suffered from extreme Hypertrichosis. What caused her jaw deformity is not known.  She came from a trible of people called Digger Indians who were known for their shortness.

***If you wish to read more of her amazing story I can recommend the book Julia Pastrana - The Tragic Story of the Victorian Ape Woman by Christopher Hals Gylseth and Lars O. Toverud.

I must thank all of you who left such wonderful comments yesterday.  I have been truly touched by the things you have had to say. Thank you so much, I put the hurt behind me and move on! 

  

 

Please Visit Joyce

Can you take a minute to pop by to Joyce's journal and give her some support.

For some reason, her latest posting does not appear and you would have to leave comments under her previous posting. She goes into hospital tomorrow for surgery.

This is taken from her journal entry alert:-

I have waited two years to get this operation and finally it is going to happen. I am feeling worried, nervous but also relieved that something is eventually being done about all the pain I have been suffering. I don't know exactly what my surgeon will be doing and I don't think he knows either. It will all depend on what he finds when he sees the condition of my kidney. If he cannot repair it he is going to cut the nerves in the hope that that will end my pain. That would be the easiest option for me I think as it can be done with key-hole surgery rather than a full major operation.

I think it is the uncertainty of what is going to be done that worries me. I could be in hospital for a couple of days or a couple of weeks. Here's hoping it is only days.

We have been very lucky with our next door neighbors as they do a lot for us and they are going to keep an eye on my hubby for me while I am in so that I do not have to worry too much about him. He has been very unwell with his new medication and his bloods have dropped so low that he has been taken off the treatment for a week or so. Hopefully the doctor will allow him to continue with the treatment shortly. I think that so much has happened to me, my hubby's brother and also my hubby that it has been too much stress and a worry for him that his doctor thought it would be better to give him a break from his treatment until things calm down a bit.

My operation will be over tomorrow and his brother is slowly improving after his massive stroke so he should not have as much to worry about and can then concentrate on himself and restart his treatment.

I would like to thank all my friends out there in hometown who have sent me get well wishes and I will let you all know when I am back home and on line again. The e: mails and cards I have received have been lovely and have cheered me up a great deal. Just keep your fingers crossed for me that I will be out for my birthday on 7th May.

Till my next entry take care all of you and God bless. 

You can visit Joyce here. I know how much the support will mean to her:- 

Living with a Serious Illness

In your own journals, click on previous entries.  We now have a calendar and a better listing of earlier entries!!!!!!

 

Friendship And Loss

Still undecided as to whether I wish to continue this journal on a regular basis.

I have been very very down this week.  I lost a dear friend. Her name was Elaine. She was taken ill a little over eighteen months ago, underwent drastic surgery which was successful.   Although the operation removed everything  Elaine then unfortunately  lapsed into a coma.  Over the months she fought back regaining some movement and being able to communicate a little with people. Her husband visited on a daily basis and read to her, all the little messages from her internet friends. We were all hopeful, then she was gone.

What was special about Elaine?  Well, everybody is special, to their partners, their families.  Elaine was special to me  because she and I had never met.  She was an internet friend.  We met in a games room.  She was great fun and full of life.  From there all the people that played that game formed their own site and we exchanged daily messages, e-mails etc, you probably know the type of thing.  Eventually the games site closed but we remained on our other site until some newcomers spoiled it and a lot of people left.  I left myself for over a year and only rejoined this year, glad to still see some of the old faces, sorry to see others gone.

In the last two months, this is my second friend who has passed away.  I have been feeling so sad, not only over Elaine but over internet friends in general.  People who come into your life, people you get very close to, people you come to count on as friends even though you have never met and probably never will meet.  Then they are gone.  They leave your life and your world often without a goodbye. It has happened right here on journals.  It is hurtful, it hurts me.

Maybe I give my friendship too easily, maybe I am too sensitive for my own good.  But when someone comes into my life offering to share themselves, share their life, I accept them into mine .  I assume they will always be there.  Over the years I have been let down many many times by people I loved and trusted. Just recently I have been hurt again, not just by the death of my friends but the "loss" of others for no apparent reason.

 Elaine, despite her adversities, despite her suffering, remained faithful until the end. What a better world it would beif everyone could be as loyal as her.

I know as one door closes, another opens, there are many caring and true people out there.  Like I said, I have been feeling very down. As I get older and older I hear more and more about deaths of relatives and friends and it is once more approaching the anniversary of my brother's passing.

So I do want those of you who have stuck with my journal to know how much your steadfastness and friendship means to me.   I hope to be back, maybe when the sun peeps out again from behind the dark clouds that have descended.

To dear Elaine and Ivan I can only say thank you for your wonderful friendship. I shall always remember you.  I shall always miss you. Rest in peace, dear friends and thank you so much for all those good times and all the joy.