Local Pics

This is the Church were our daughter was christened and where the funerals of both my parents took place. It is set on a hill overlooking a river. It was mentioned in the Domesday Book although all traces of the original building have disappeared. This current building was erected in 1220. It has a font of Purbeck markble which dates from 1160.  The tower was built in 1350 and is very unusual because it has two stages, the first square and the second octagonal. In the small window of the Lady Chapel there are six panes of glass. These are in the form of a cross and bear the words "Deus ictus" - God stricken.  How the parish came to be God stricken is not known.  It is thought that this window dates from the time of the great plague. Set into the ground immediately outside the Elizabethan brick porch is a stone in the shape of a coffin which bears the initials W.W. and is dated 1791. This is the grave of William Waight who left instructions that he was to be buried right outside the church door. He stated that "having been trampled on in life, he wished to receive the same treatment after death!"

William Tyms, deacon and curate of the Church was burnt at the stake at Smithfield, London in April of 1556 for heresy. He preached against the Catholic doctrine of Queen Mary Tudor.  A very popular man, he was hidden in the district by local villagers although he did manage to give two sermons on a nearby hill. However, he was eventually betrayed.  Imprisoned and tortured, Tyms continued to write encouraging letters to his congregation in his own blood. A sad tale indeed.

This and the following two pictures are the original village school.  On the right hand side of the roof you can just about see the bell hanging that summoned the children to lessons. You can see how small it is so the number of pupils must have been few. As this was a farming community, many of the children would not have taken lessons during spring planting and harvest time as they would have been working the land along with their families. It is now a private residence and one of the few remaining properties in the area to boast a thatched roof.

The actual date when the old school house was built is not known to me.

This is our second local pub.  It has a large garden at the rear where you can take a drink or food set in woodland as the garden of the pub is actually in the woods.  A very popular haunt not only for locals but many passers-by.

And lastly a close-up of the charming sign that hangs outside.

The area around here was strongly associated with witchcraft and a nearby village was known as the "witch capital" of south-east Essex. Several local people were tried as witches. It is not know what became of them. Two of the known witches who have passed down through history are Nelly Button and Mother Fawkes. Nelly was supposed to put curses on people, put them into fits or send loud noises to keep awake those who had offended her in some way.  It is said that she met her end when the local blacksmith, knowing that witches could not cross iron, hid iron items all around her cottage.  Some say that as she could not cross, she starved to death, others that she simply disappeared. Mother Fawkes was more into frightening people by threatening to turn their milk tainted or to stop their pigs feeding and chickens laying unless local people gave her food. So, more of an extortionist than a witch.

Legend has it that this area is haunted by a huge black dog with fiery eyes which pads around the village in the dead of night.  To see it means bad luck for a whole year, although apparently, there are no reports of it having been seen in a long time.  There is also supposed to be a ghostly coach and horses passing by the church (top picture) at midnight on Christmas Eve.  No-one can give an explanation as to why.Old superstitions die hard and for many years people visited our woods with their crippled children in order to pass them through a tree trunk which had a large split in it. They believed that the deformed tree would take on the disabilities of their children and leave them strong and straight. The following is a local recipe to cure the bite of a mad dog:

One ounce of best Dragons blood (a herb),Spanish Brown (a herb) an ounce and a half  Five ounces of box leaves dried, pounded and passed through a fine sieve. Mix together and take in the following fashion. Man or woman take in the morning on rising, one large table spoon in a little gruel, white wine, whey or warm milk. To children - in proportion. No food to be consumed for three hours after taking.

Pictures courtesy of my beloved.

Funny Pictures

These speak for themselves!!!!

 

 

Samurai Joke

Long long ago and far far away there was in the land of the Samurai, a
powerful emperor who needed a new Chief Samurai, so he sent a declaration
throughout the land that he was searching for the best one. A year passed,
and only three people showed up for the trials: a Japanese Samurai, a
Chinese Samurai, and a Jewish Samurai.

The emperor asked the Japanese Samurai to demonstrate why he should be the
chief Samurai. The Japanese Samurai opened a match box, and out flew a
bumblebee. Whoosh! went his razor sharp sword, and the bumblebee dropped
dead on the ground in two pieces. The emperor exclaimed: "This is
impressive."

The emperor then issued the same challenge to the Chinese Samurai; for him
to demonstrate why he should be chosen. The Chinese Samurai also opened a
match box, and out buzzed a fly. Whoosh, Whoosh! Went his great flashing
sword, and the fly dropped dead on the ground - in four small pieces. The
emperor exclaimed in awe: "That is really VERY impressive."

Now the emperor turned to the Jewish Samurai, and asked him also to step
forward and demonstrate why he should be the head Samurai. The Jewish
Samurai also opened a match box, and out flew a small gnat. His lightning
quick sword went Whooooosh! Whooooosh! Whoooosh! But the tiny gnat was still
alive and flying around.

The emperor, obviously very disappointed in this display, said: "I see you
are really not up to the task, for the gnat is not dead."

The Jewish Samurai merely smiled and said: "Circumcision is not meant to
kill."

I have been unable to find out who painted this picture of yellow roses but a dear friend told me yesterday that yellow roses represent friendship. So, Sherry, I send these to you in token of our friendship and to thank you for the wonderful entry you did about me yesterday on your journal. I was deeply touched. You are a very special lady.

I also send it to all my journal friends whose journals make me laugh, cry, think, enjoy.  Yellow roses fit the bill. Friendship is golden and as precious, no -  more precious than gold itself. Treasure it.

Horrors

Nightmares.  Do you ever have nightmares so real that they scare you, really scare you?  The type that you cannot shake off, the type that you keep re-living even after you wake? 

I am not prone to nightmares although I do have quite vivid dreams.  However, Sunday night I seemed to have them all night long and last night........

I had got up to go to the loo which I usually have to do sometime in the night due to my Diabetes, then I got back into bed and fell back to sleep.  I had a nightmare so bad that I cannot even bring myself to tell you what it was about. I do not want to put it on cyber paper and give it even more life. Let me just say that it was about me and my health and that Mike featured in it together with medical people. It was not like a dream or nightmare at all, it was as if it was real, like it was actually happening, unfolding frame by frame in front of my eyes.  I can find no reason for it.  It was not triggered by anything I had heard or read, nothing I had seen on t.v. nothing that had been discussed. It just happened and this is the second night running.

So today, I am very worried and very upset. There are many people who say dreams are prophetic and show things that will happen.  I have had dreams in the past myself that were prophetic so this worries me even more.  On the other hand, my Mother always used to say "reverse your dreams". She believed that dreams were only worries or troubles that we had in day to day life manifesting themselves and our brains trying to sort things out.  I have usually tried to follow her advice.

However, I woke shaking and sweating and literally sobbing, the tears streaming down my face. Much worse I woke up frightened. No, not frightened - scared, really scared.

Now I do not know which side of the fence to come down on because I just cannot shake this dream off. I keep thinking about it, it keeps coming back to haunt me even though the day is bright.

Do I just hope it will fade as the day passes, do I just put it down to some passing trick of the mind or do I take it seriously? Do I accept, as my Mother did that dreams actually mean nothing and are just the workings of a tired or overworked brain or do I take it as prophetic because if it is prophetic........then I am in big trouble! Trouble of the worst kind. So, if you have had this sort of experience, was the dream right or wrong?

.

P.S. When I re-arranged my journal and put sites and journals in their proper places, I must have done something wrong because I have "lost" two journals I can no longer access and I have failed to find them under search.  Can anybody help with links please for:-

My Day And Thoughts
and
In The Mirrors Of My Mind.

Doing Nothing

Him indoors has a week off from his part-time job and of course, it is blowing a gale, pouring down with rain and so dark we have the lights on!!!!!  We have even lit the fire.  Alas, we do not have a coal fire but the next best thing  - an open living flame gas fire. Just looking at it makes me feel warm and cosy. In a recent entry I mentioned the nature table at school. Well, in those days we had real coal fires in the classrooms, no such thing as central heating or radiators.  The children at the back of the class froze so, of course, everyone wanted to be at the front.  As we all had regular seats, this was not possible but............ if we did something against the rules, like flicking ink soaked pellets of blotting paper across the room at someone, giggling or chatting, we were called to the front to stand there until we were "sorry".  I was always a chatterbox so I relished those times standing with my back to the class but delighting in the warmth of the fire!!!!! It also takes me back to home, during the few good times, when I would come home with a book from the library, and at supper time would sit in front of the fire, wrapped in a cosy dressing gown, with a big mug of either Cocoa or Ovaltine. There I would be in a world of my own, snuggled in the chair and, in the warmth of the firelight, would be transported through the pages of my book to other places and other times. Those were the occasions when I felt safe and secure.

So, today, I am going to do just that again.  Sit by the fire and read a book whilst my beloved continues building his model ship, glad that he does not have to give the lawn a final mow or do any work in the garden.  This is a day just to indulge ourselves!!!!

My book will be "Death At The Priory" by James Ruddick. which attempts to finally solve the riddle of the Priory murder, one of the great mysteries of crime. Just my cup of tea.   The inside blurb says :-

"In 1875, the beautiful and vivacious widow Florence Ricardo wedded Charles Bravo, a dashing barrister.  The marriage seemed a happy one, although society gossips whispered that Bravo had married Florence for her fortune. Yet behind his charming public persona, Charles Bravo was a brutal and vindictive man, who dismissed Florence's steadfast companion, Mrs. Cox,  and who regularly subjected his wife to violent abuse.  Four months after the wedding Bravo collapsed and suffered a slow and agonizing death. Charles Bravo had been poisoned. Suspicion fell upon everyone in the Priory, the house in South London in which he and Florence had lived. James Ruddick's meticulous recreation of the Bravo case brings its main characters and their times to vivid life. He has created a gripping historical thriller and an intimate and often startling portrait of a woman, a marriage and a society. The brilliant conclusion uses new evidence discovered by the author to demonstrate conclusively who really murdered Charles Bravo."

So, I cannot wait to get started, just a couple of little jobs to do and I am off, dear readers, to spoil myself, to take some time out -  time away from the computer for a couple of hours, to ignore the inclement weather and to just do nothing but laze and enjoy myself and be transported back to another age. Oh joy!

It Is Sweet To Do Nothing ~ by John William Godward.

Touched

I was truly and deeply touched by the comments left after my entry of yesterday. I know it reached many of you and it has helped me because I really see that I am not alone.  I send my love and prayers and a big hug to each of you. We often think we are alone when we suffer, that nobody understands and just knowing that there are others going through their own private hell, others who know exactly what it is like, others who care,  it does help.  It adds fuel to that little spark I spoke about. Life can seem very unjust and we ask ourselves - why me?  What have I done to deserve this?  There are no answers, we can only play the hand we are dealt and make the very best of it. Tears can release the tension and the fear for a while but they are not the cure. Each of us carries our own private cross. It is hard for our families also, standing by feeling helpless.  But, like I said, hope is the one thing we must never lose.  It can be hard to keep that spark, it can be hard to keep your faith and yet you find it never really deserts you although sometimes you have to dig  very deep to find it. I have cried into my pillow many times but somehow I have always found the strength to carry on. I read your comments with tears in my eyes and I feel for each and every one of you. Let us make that spark glow brighter and let us all walk out of darkness into light together.  This is a great community with very special people. God bless you all and thank you for sharing what that entry meant to you. I feel privileged that you did so.

Here is the biggest reason now why I am determined, somehow, to fight and defeat my demons and return to better health in every way. It might be a long struggle but, if it is possible, I will do it. With God's love and help I will do it. So, I leave you today with a smile from a very special little person who deserves a Grandmother that can smile again, that can venture outside again, a Grandmother who will play with him, teach him and make him smile.

Taken at 12 weeks old, four days ago.

So, dear friends, I know you will pray for me that the doctors will find a cause for my problems and an answer. I shall be praying for you.  Let us carry the torch together and remember there is forever hope in the prison of despair.

 

Depression

Yesterday, I was reading the journal of someone I have come to look upon as a good friend. In it she talks about depression and how it affects her even though she says it does not last more than a couple of days.  I know that black hole so well, having experienced periods of deep despair many times in my life.  I know that there are other journal keepers out there who live with depression as a daily companion. It is very hard to put into words how you feel when you suffer it, sometimes you do not feel at all,  you are just a robot going through the motions. Other times you lie and stare at the wall unable to think, unable to read, watch t.v or have any interest in anything. Other people function around you but, to you, they seem like a dream that you are no part of.  I have likened it to being in a deep muddy pit, standing waist deep in water.  You frantically try and scramble up the sides but you cannot get a handhold on the mud and keep falling back.  You so desperately want to reach the light and climb out but you feel you have no strength left.  Othertimes it feels as if you are drowning and going under for the third time. Sometimes you cannot bear noise. Sometimes you long for companionship whilst, at the same time, you do not want to be among people. It robs you of your joy of life, robs you of happiness.

I have already written one poem about depression but that is very personal and very very dark.  So last night, as I am going through one of these periods myself right now, I sat down and tried to put into words something of how it feels.  I do not want this to be a dismal and unhappy entry but wanted to share this with you today, especially all who are depressed, to let you know that you are not alone:-

DROWNING

When we chat in the street, shopping in hand,
I look alright, so you don't understand.
Don't walk away, don't turn your back,
Look at me - I'm drowning.

When you knock at my door with parcel or post
And I flash a fake smile though I feel like a ghost
Don't rush to your bike and pedal away
Look at me - I'm drowning.

I stand at the check-out, you tot up my bill
You glance at your watch and slam shut the till
Don't cut me out and dream of your tea
Look at me - I'm drowning.

When I stand at the door and blow you a kiss
And face a dread day in the deep, black abyss,
Don't leave me now, just give work a miss
Look at me - I'm drowning.

And when I am gone far out of this place
And you cannot recall the look of my face
Don't just shrug and go on with the race
Remember me  -  I drowned.

                                                    Copyright 2004

                    

However, my faith and my loving family have always got me through. Pray God they continue to do so.  I always hang on to that little spark of hope which never seems to burn out however bad I feel.  Just one tiny spark, but that can be enough. That spark can one day ignite a blaze that will illuminate the road back into the light. 

I have, for a long time, loved this painting which  is entitled

Hope In The Prison Of Despair

By Evelyn De Morgan

So, to all of you who suffer either depression, physical illness or chronic pain, never lose that spark. Always hang onto hope.  It is always darkest before the dawn.