Sunday, 30 March 2008

The Week that was

The Easter holidays are flying by and I've been a real lazy blogger just lately!

So far we've had a really great week.

Monday and Tuesday were spent at home, mainly on general garden duties and cleaning the windows (in order to remove Bonker the Blackbirds body prints!!).


On Wednesday we spent the day in the University City of Cambridge walking around exploring all of the side streets and ancient beautiful old buildings.

We then ventured onto the River. The weather was freezing but we decided to have a ride on a punt ( a shallow bottomed wooden boat propelled by a long pole and the use of poorly paid student).

It was great fun and the kids really enjoyed it. We passed several sights which were pointed out to us including a building which was used in the Harry potter films as Hogwarts ( the exterior only).

The photos are better larger it you click on them.


Afterwards as we decided to walk a little off the beaten track Sam said to me in a low whisper ,

" Mummy , What's a Big Buddha Thigh restaurant?"

I was a little taken back by this at first thinking, OMG Where is this question leading to, having an instant image of scantily dressed women and poles for some strange reason!


"Why do you ask that Sam ?"

"Well it's just that there's one over there"

He pointed to a seedy looking establishment above the "Ugly Duckling" Chinese restaurant.

I didn't see any red lights or women of the night trying to entice us anywhere - instead I saw



I breathed a sigh of relief to see "Thai restaurant!"


The following day we went to Duxford Air Museum which was really interesting.I hadn't been for years and the kids learned a lot about the sacrifices that were made in World War 2.

There is a huge hangar which contains an American Air museum. All along the outside of the building is a glass panel with aeroplanes etched on it. Every single etching represents an aeroplane and it's crew that lost their lives.

The whole experience was very humbling.

On Saturday we had another great day with our friends Liz and Tom. We took the kids roller skating. Both Sam & Georgie are novice skaters but got braver as the morning went on. Liz made us a lovely lunch and we whiled away several hours.

Today we went to Redwings horse sanctuary where we sponsor several rescue ponies. It was Georgina's donkey "Louie's" birthday and the centre were holding a special birthday party for him. We had a lovely time and the weather was fabulous!

My Town Monday - Part 6

I can't believe how quickly the weeks are passing and I am now on My Town Monday part 6.

I thought I would write about one of Bishop's Stortford's famous inhabitants - Cecil Rhodes.



Cecil John Rhodes was born 5 July 1853 at Netteswell House, a three-storey semi-detached Georgian property in South Street Bishops Stortford . His father, Rev Francis William Rhodes moved to Bishop’s Stortford in 1849 to become the Vicar of St Michael’s Church ( opposite the Boars Head pub !).



The young Cecil Rhodes was a sickly boy with fair curly hair, piercing eyes and a squeaky, almost ‘girlish’ voice. He spent most of his formative years wandering around Bishop’s Stortford, usually on his own, or sitting idle in the garden of the family home. The remainder of his time was spent attending the High School built by his father in the High Street.

Cecil studied under his father, who always expected him and his brothers to take part in parish work and attend regularly services at St Michael’s. Cecil also taught in Sunday school helping his mother with Bible classes.

His father wanted him to go into holy orders but Cecil’s preference was to become a barrister, which even his usually supportive mother was opposed to.

The solution to the problem came in the form of a letter from his older brother, Herbert, who had earlier gone to South Africa and successfully established himself as a cotton farmer in the British colony of Natal. He invited Cecil to join him, and on the 21 June 1870, at the age of sixteen, he embarked on a 72-day journey in an old wooden sailing ship called the Eudora.

Cecil quickly adapted to life as a cotton farmer, but Herbert soon grew restless and decided that there was more money working in the diamond mines.

Cecil realised the cotton boom was coming to an end and knew he'd stand a far better chance of making his fortune if he joined his brother in the diamond fields. He set off on the 400 mile trek to join him in October 1871, but when his pony died along the way he walked the remaining distance, covering about fourteen miles a day. He finally arrived there in November.

Cecil established a company with the De Beer family and today De Beer lives on as one of the world’s biggest and well known companies, still controlling about 70% of the diamond market.

Within three years Cecil amassed for himself a considerable fortune and in 1873 returned to Bishop’s Stortford a wealthy young man and visited his father who was now living back at the vicarage with his remaining family.

All seemed well, but the following year Rev Rhodes resigned his position as Vicar of the parish. He insisted it was infirmity and old age that made him resign, but his constant quarrels with churchwardens was common knowledge.

Rev Rhodes died in 1878, and Cecil, who had now finished his studies at Oxford, returned to Bishop’s Stortford for the very last time. But it was not a goodwill visit. His anger at the way the town had treated his father after all he had done for it was so intense, he cut all ties with his birthplace and never referred to Bishop’s Stortford again.

Cecil returned to South Africa.

In 1886, gold was discovered south of Pretoria in an area called Witwatersrand (white water’s ridge), which proved to be the richest deposit of gold the world had ever seen. It became known as ‘the Rand’ and within a few years a city named Johannesburg grew up around the gold field.

At the age of thirty-five he was, arguably, the richest man in the western world, and in 1889 formed the British South Africa Company for which he received a Royal Charter signed by Queen Victoria.

In 1890 Cecil Rhodes reached the peak of his political career by being elected Prime Minister of the Cape Colony, and in 1893 he founded Rhodesia.

His ultimate aim at this time was to take control of the two neighbouring Boer republics, and that was to be his downfall. He conspired to overthrow the government of Paul Kruger, and after being implicated in the disastrous Jameson Raid on the neighbouring Transvaal Republic, all support was withdrawn and he resigned as premier in 1896.

In 1897 the British Parliament censured him for breaches of duty, after which he devoted his time to the development of the country that had been named Rhodesia (now Zimbabwe) in his honour that same year.

The final years of his life were fraught with ill health and marred by native rebellions in the Rhodesian territories. This, along with the deteriorating relationships with the Afrikaners, eventually led to the Boer War in 1899.

Ever since the 1870s, when he’d suffered two heart attacks, Rhodes had had premonitions of an early death. As his heart weakened in 1901 he decided to return to England and booked a boat passage. But his health steadily declined, and on 26 March 1902 he died at Muizenberg, aged 48.

On his deathbed he is said to have uttered his final words, ‘So little done, so much to do’.

Herbert Rhodes spent a short term in prison for gun-running and died in 1879, aged just 34. While pouring out a large bottle of home-brewed gin in his hut, an ember from his pipe ignited the spirit and caught his clothes alight. He threw himself into a nearby river to quench the flames but died shortly after.

As Cecil Rhodes lay in state at his 17th century Cape Town home, Groote Schuur (The Great Granary), more than 30,000 residents filed past his coffin to pay their final respects. His body was then moved to Bulawayo for another laying in state and funeral, and finally he was taken to be buried in the Matopo Hills, Rhodesia – known as ‘View of the World’ and the traditional burial place of African Chiefs. It is said a team of 1,000 Matabele carved a 25km route through rocky terrain for his cortege and that his grave was excavated out of solid granite rock.




His resentment towards the town of his birth left its mark and was possibly the reason why Bishop’s Stortford itself did very little to proclaim its part in the life of this great Englishman in the years following his death.

Before the Rhodes Centre was built in 1963, no public statue or portrait existed here to recall the features of either Cecil Rhodes or his father.

The only memorial to Rev Rhodes is a stained glass window in the tower of St Michael's.

At Netteswell House in South Street, a large plaster tablet was placed high on the wall of the house recording the fact that he was born in the room within.



A county memorial was actually proposed soon after his death and large sums of money were promised to the committee formed to oversee it. However, a difference of opinion soon emerged within the committee resulting in several members resigning and many subscriptions being cancelled.

The remaining fund stood at almost £3,000 and after advice from Lord Kitchener it was decided to use the money to build a Drill Hall. This was erected in 1906 to the south-west of the Market Square and still stands today There is, however, no mention, inside or out, of Cecil Rhodes.

In the 1930s the South African financier and statesman Sir Abe Bailey (1864–1940), together with several other prominent Rhodesians, was responsible for the inauguration of a Rhodes Memorial Foundation Fund: its purpose being to establish a Rhodes Memorial Museum in Bishop’s Stortford.

Some years later it was decided to further build on the side of the Rhodes family home and today we have the Rhodes centre which is used by many members of the community as an Arts complex. My children have dancing lessons here and my son starred in the yearly pantomime.The museum is also still going strong.



One unfortunate but amusing incident that occurred during building work involved the disappearance of a stone Roman coffin, found in 1962 near to Hockerill College. On removal from the site it was slightly damaged and later left in the garden of the Rhodes museum for safekeeping. Unfortunately, workmen mistook it for hardcore and used it to pack the foundations of the new Rhodes Centre !

Monday, 24 March 2008

Happy Easter!

Easter celebrations started off very early.

"Bonker" the Blackbird has continually carried on attacking all of the windows along the side of the house which are now covered in an array of muddy blackbird foot, body and head prints.

I have sat in wait to capture him on film but the minute you point a camera at him - he's off! I will eventually get a photo.

His behaviour is completely bizzare.I am trying to find a silhouette or photo of a much larger scarier bird to stick on the window, in the hope that it might scare him off.Malc has suggested a few scary birds but none of the feathered variety - he is of no help at all!

The Grand Prix started at 0615 ish, my Turkey needed to go in the oven at 0700 and the kids are always up early- especially when it started to snow !!!!



It was really exciting !!! We haven't had snow for ages and when it started to settle- it was great ! ( especially as we didn't have to go to work or travel anywhere).

By 0900 we had a family ( albeit a small one ) of muddy Snow people. We had had a series of snowball fights with the neighbours ! - Yes they were up early too in all the excitement and the kids had eaten copious amounts of chocolate. ( Georgina had given up sweets and chocolate for Lent and was making up for time ).



The rest of the family arrived at 1230 and we had lunch at 1pm.

After lunch we had the "Wii Olympics".

My 70 year old "Mad Auntie Sheila" became a very competitive Boxer, with my Mum, the bowling champion.

We had a great time!

Creating the Mii's on the Wii is also really funny. The kids loved giving us all imaginative extra features!!


The weather then changed again and within a few hours we had glorious sunshine , then rain , then sun , then hail!!

This morning the snow has all but gone but a few remnannts of the snow people remain - but "Bonker" is still very much here!!

Mt Town Monday - Part 5

In 1804 Napoleon Bonaparte set out on a quest to conquer Europe and Britain in what became known as the Napoleonic Wars (1804-1815).

But his plans to invade Britain were effectively ended in July 1805 when the Royal Navy outmanoeuvred his fleets at Cape Finisterre off the northwest coast of Spain. Any further thoughts of invasion were finally quashed in October that same year when Nelson defeated the combined French and Spanish fleets at the Battle of Trafalgar.

However, in the build-up to invasion Britain had been unable to import wheat from Europe. This inevitably led to an expansion of British wheat farming and, subsequently, higher bread prices. Farmers and landowners profitted greatly but feared once the French wars ended, the resumption of imported wheat would lower prices.

To protect their profits they put pressure on parliament to introduce a duty on imported wheat, and in 1815 a Corn Law was introduced stipulating that no wheat could be imported until domestic wheat cost £4 per quarter. Naturally the price was kept artificially high, but the subsequent increase in food prices caused people to spend far more on food than on other commodities, and the economy suffered.

In 1821 Bishop’s Stortford’s population of 3,358 were suffering the effects of the Corn Laws like everybody else, more so the working classes who struggled to feed their families.

As a result of the flourishing wheat trade corn exchanges were being built in towns and cities throughout the country, and in 1828 a consortium of local businessmen put together a plan to build a corn exchange in Bishop’s Stortford. The site chosen was that of the King’s Head Inn in the market place.



Built in 1680 the King’s Head sign portrayed Henry VIII, but an earlier sign, depicting a bunch of grapes, indicate it was first a tavern. Its elevation to ‘inn’ status was due to the growth in stagecoach travel in the 18th century, but as more and more stagecoaches journeying between London and East Anglia began to avoid the busy town centre in favour of the Hockerill bypass ,the King’s Head’s fortunes declined.

It later gained a reputation for being a rowdy house and when the petty sessions or ‘courts’, often held there, moved to the Crown Inn at Hockerill its days were numbered. In 1828 the landlord, George Perry, had little hesitation in accepting the £3,150 offered by the Corn Exchange Company.



Designed in the neo-classical style by Lewis Vulliamy and built in 1928, the Corn Exchange despite much alteration is still one of the few 19th century buildings in Bishop’s Stortford of real architectural merit.

It is the oldest corn exchange in Hertfordshire and by far the most distinguished. There is even a suggestion that it inspired the design of St Albans Town Hall in 1832

Four giant Ionic columns and pediments support the portico facing North Street, with two similar columns in place on the eastern side above the building’s Market Square entrance. Above the original entrance to the trading floor (currently occupied by a restaurant and a hairdressers), stood a statue of *Ceres the Greek goddess of the earth and, especially, grain. She, along with the building’s turrets and other embellishments was later removed and replaced by a large circular glass roof, giving the 65 dealers who worked here added light by which to judge the quality of grain being purchased and sold.

Although called a Corn Exchange, the word ‘corn’ was a generic term for all cereal grain.



A single-storey addition to the rear of the building at the turn of the 20th century housed a barber’s shop and the Capital and Counties Bank then, later, Lloyds Bank before it moved to 20 North Street in the early 1970s.

Although the Corn Exchange was built for the trading of grain, it has since served a variety of purposes. In the 1800s it offered public meeting rooms holding up to 500 people, a library, club, literary society, and facilities to put on plays.

The Guardians of the Union Workhouse, who held their first meetings at the George Inn, later moved to the Corn Exchange before building their own headquarters at Hockerill Street.

During restoration of St Michael’s Church in 1868 the exchange was temporarily used for vestry meetings and as the parish church, and during the Second World War (1939–1945) it was used as a synagogue by Jewish refugees from London.

Bishop’s Stortford’s Working Men’s Club was founded here in 1873, as was the Conservative Club in 1883. It also acted as a courthouse in the late 1800s.



When the Corn Exchange finally ceased trading in 1959, Hertfordshire County Council bought the premises in order to control development of the site. Willful neglect soon ensured it fell into disrepair and in 1967 the same council proposed to demolish the building as part of the town improvement scheme.

Local feelings ran high at this suggestion, the proposal so strongly opposed by the Civic Society and Local History Society that a ministerial decision was made in 1971 to save it.

After the reprieve the exchange was sold to a developer who, in 1972, removed the glass roof and restored and converted the building for use as shops and offices.

Saturday, 22 March 2008

The Mayonnaise Jar and two cups of coffee

I got sent this e-mail the other day which made me stop and think



The Mayonnaise Jar and 2 cups of coffee


When things in your life seem almost too much to handle, when 24 hours in a day are not enough, remember the mayonnaise jar and the 2 cups of coffee.


A professor stood before his philosophy class and had some items in front of him. When the class began, he wordlessly picked up a very large and empty mayonnaise jar and proceeded to fill it with golf balls. He then asked the students if the jar was full. They agreed that it was.


The professor then picked up a box of pebbles and poured them into the jar He shook the jar lightly. The pebbles rolled into the open areas between the golf balls. He then asked the students again if the jar was full. They agreed it was.


The professor next picked up a box of sand and poured it into the jar. Of course, the sand filled up everything else. He asked once more if the jar was full. The students responded with a unanimous "yes."


The professor then produced two cups of coffee from under the table and poured the entire contents into the jar effectively filling the empty space between the sand. The students laughed.


"Now," said the professor as the laughter subsided, "I want you to recognise that this jar represents your life. The golf balls are the important things - your family, your children, your health, your friends and your favourite passions - and if everything else was lost and only they remained, your life would still be full.


The pebbles are the other things that matter like your job, your house and your car.


The sand is everything else - the small stuff. "If you put the sand into the jar first," he continued, "there is no room for the pebbles or the golf balls. The same goes for life. If you spend all your time and energy on the small stuff you will never have room for the things that are important to you.


"Pay attention to the things that are critical to your happiness. Spend time with your children. Spend time with your parents. Visit with grandparents. Take time to get medical checkups. Take your spouse out to dinner. Play another 18. There will always be time to clean the house and fix the disposal. Take care of the golf balls first - the things that really matter. Set your priorities. The rest is just sand”.


One of the students raised her hand and inquired what the coffee represented. The professor smiled and said, "I'm glad you asked."

The coffee just shows you that no matter how full your life may seem, there's always room for a couple of cups of coffee with a friend."

Thursday, 20 March 2008

I'm under attack !

This morning at 5am I woke up hearing a strange banging noise.

I lay in bed listening in a dreamy haze wondering what it could be.

It wasn't raining. The neighbours had not yet gone to work. The roof of the house was still on.Malc wasn't snoring ( and nor was I)

I wasn't unduly worried so rolled back over to try to catch up on important beauty sleep.

"Bonk", I lay there my mind still whirring. "Bonk" - followed by another "Bonk"

Perhaps it's the central heating coming on? and closed my eyes again.

"Bonk" - By this time I was now wide awake and eager to find out what had disturbed my restful slumber.

I got out of bed and looked out of the window - nothing.

"Bonk"

I flushed the chain on the ensuite toilet ( I'm still not quite sure why I did this but think I thought that if it was the central heating - it might in some way cure the problem)

"Bonk"

Dam ! - What the hell is that noise?

All of a sudden it stopped. Great - perhaps my flushing the chain did work after all.

I got back in bed.

"Bonk"

I jumped back up again and stood in my PJ's listening intently.

I wandered out onto the landing , checked the kids, they were ok.

All of a sudden the noise stopped

I waited for it to start up again standing silently - 5 minutes, 10 minutes nothing.

Was it in my head ? Had I imagined it ?

I went down stairs and got breakfast.

I didn't hear the noise again until I came back home having dropped the kids off at school.

"Bonk"

I stood in my kitchen , fiddled with the gas boiler.

"Bonk"

It was coming from my study area.

I raced in the room to see what it was - nothing.

"Bonk" - it was now in the kitchen.

I am going mad I thought. Maybe I have tinnitus.Perhaps it's a ghost or even a poltergeist!

I went in the kitchen and sure enough - "Bonk" I was back in the study again.

This continued with me getting rather miffed.

I decided to stay in the study and wait.

Nothing - so I turned on my computer and started checking e mails.

Within a few minutes I was under attack.

A Blackbird which had been sitting on the trellis fence outside the study window launched itself at the glass and made a really loud "Bonk" noise.

At first I thought I had been shot!!

My instant reaction was to jump on the floor - it scared the life out of me.

I crawled back onto my chair and again - "Bonk" it flew at the glass.

This bird is crazy!!

I knocked on the glass and it went away.

I now needed a cup of tea so went back in the kitchen - "Bonk"

Damn bird! - I opened the back door only to see the Crazed blackbird launching himself at the glass door now leading into the garage.

This strange creature was attacking all of the windows in the house!!

I went to get my camera but as I went outside he flew off.

I stood outsde waiting for him to come back and could hear him "Bonking" into the neighbours windows too.

For the next 2 hours my windws were bombarded by the bonking blackbird.

This bird must have one hell of a headache, possibly even concussion.

Strangely enough I now recall that a couple of years ago we had the same thing happen but had forgotten all about it.

I can only imagine that as Spring is now here the birds are getting more amorous and territorial and that he had seen "another bird" in the glass he decided to attack it.

I have decided that my windows are obviously too clean and shiny, other than that the Blackbirds around here are not the sharpest tools in the box !

I'm wondering tomorrow if he'll be back again - I might even lie in wait for him !

I've been trying desperately to get a photo - but I've not been quick enough as as soon as I go to wait by one window - he bonks a different one !

Anyone else had this problem or can suggest what to do ??

Monday, 17 March 2008

Happy St Patrick's Day !!




Your Leprechaun Name Is:



Fluffy O'Guinness


My Town Monday Part 4

A large proportion of my youth was obviously spent at school and most days I still walk past my old school - "The Convent" in order to get to the main part of the town.

The school is at the top of one of the hills in Bishops Stortford called Windhill.
I love this part of the town as it not only houses the school , two churches,the monastery, the Boars head pub (!) but some really old houses.



St Marys was founded by Sisters of St Mary of Namur when they arrived here from Belgium in 1896. their intention was to start a school for Bishop's Stortford's Catholic community .

That same year they acquired Windhill Lodge at the top of Windhill, renamed it St Mary's Convent and opened their school in the same building. There were just nine pupils at the start.

The original building still stands but has since undergone a great deal of alteration helped funded by the Catholic Church. The school opened as a fee paying school.

But not every Catholic family in Bishop's Stortford could afford to pay for their children's education, so in 1909 a mixed school for elementary pupils began at St Mary's for the less well off.

Named St Joseph’s, it first accommodated pupils in two classrooms in what is now the music block, but by 1914 the school had grown so rapidly that a staff of three were teaching 57 children. This is the school that my Mother went to, and now my own two children.

During the First World War, soldiers were billeted in St Mary’s at night and many child evacuees from London were taught here during World War II.

I have very happy memories of school. As a first year, most of the girls underwent "The initiation ceremony" which was instigated mainly by the second year girls.



In the original school building( the red brick building in the photo) was a set of winding, narrow "back stairs" which led to the loft area. The "back stairs" were reknowned to be haunted by the spirit of a troubled Nunn who had apparantly thrown herself off from the top of the building and now patrolled the dreaded back stairs looking for gullible first years to terrorise(!)


The stairs were very dimly lit and cold.There were probably about 5 floors in total. At the very top was a door which led to the gabled loft area. We were "encouraged" to climb all the way to the top of the stairs and when we reached the creepy door with its flaking paint work we had to knock on it- to prove our worth and see if the ghostly Nunn would appear.

I can remember being really scared,and not being able to see a huge amount apart from the door.No one really ventured to this part of the building so it also has a variety of different cobwebs and aged spiders.

Because the door probably housed no more than the hot water tank it made very strange gurgling and hissing noises which added to the fear. It reminded me of a scene from an old black and white film "Jan Eyre" where the violently insane Bertha mason - secret wife of Edward Rochester would escape from the attic of Thornfield manor and wreak havoc.


Myself and two friends started to climb the stairs one cold September morning, giggling with a mixture of nerves, mortal fear and a strange excitement. As we approached the very top we became aware of the silence, the dark and then the strange gurgling noises.

The dreaded door was at the very top of the landing , there were no windows, the air was stale and we were in darkness. I stretched out my hand ( realising that my friends were standing behind me and that I would be the ultimate sacrifical lamb)and quickly knocked three times on the door.

As soon as I had done this the three of us turned and ran down the spiral stairs which were covered in linoleum . Our shoes made clippy clop noises as we scurried down back to safety , screaming as we did so.

When we eventually reached the bottom we felt relieved that we had completed our task, but realised that there were no second year girls around to actually witness our bravery at all - instead they had probably spent their break time laughing about the silly first year girls that they had tricked to go up to the spooky attic.

I never did go all the way up to the very top of the stairs again until just before I left the school some years later but I never did actually ever knock on the door again !

Saturday, 15 March 2008

Grand Prix or Not Grand Prix - that is the question !

It's that time of the year again - the F1 Grand Prix motor racing season - the time of year when my husband becomes infatuated with the TV.

Every thing stops in order to watch skinny men in one piece jump suits racing around a track being paid ridiculous amounts of money.

He will yell at the telly, shout at people to "Pit", criticise their driving and what's more he will stick his fingers in his ears and "La La La" in order to avoid hearing any result of the race on the news - before he has seen it himself.

He cuts out the fixtures when advertised in the paper and keeps it on a notice board in the kitchen.

He knows everything about their cars and can tell you who is in what car and where they are - he would make a fantastic commentator as he is very knowledgable to the point of being a bit of a Grand Prix nerd!

I must admit that I do actually quite like the Grand Prix myself - until I end up having to do everything in the house every weekend whilst he shouts obscenities at the box.

A couple of years ago we went to the South on France on holiday and were lucky enough to visit Monaco - funnily enough when the Grand Prix was on!

Monaco itself is beautiful and for the race weekend it was full of tourists. There were humungous yachts and ships docked in the bay, oozing money - one with a helicopter pad on the back. It was a completely different world to the one we are used to.

Malc had bought tickets for the 4 of us to watch the race. How exciting was my first thought. I imagined that we would have a great view and it was something we hadn't done before. The Royal family of Monaco were at the race , as were a variety of celebrities.

Our tickets led us up a small road , I looked at the ticket - there was no seat number.

"Are we in the right place?" I asked.

"Oh yes we're up here on the bank - we'll have a great view" he said.

The bank was a dried up earth mound - I was wearing a pair of white shorts.

As we tried to clamber up the mound with about 50,000 other people , I suddenly thought , "What the hell are we doing!". We had got there at 1000 and the race didn't start until 1400 so we were stuck. If you got up you would lose your place.

It was packed with people absolutely everywhere - invading people's personal space was the norm it appeared- as you practically had people sitting on your lap.

The hill was actually quite steep and the ground was really soft loose earth.

At one point in time we were all lined up in family order up the bank - Georgie sitting in between Sam's legs, Sam sitting in between mine and me sitting in between Malc's . All the our legs outstretched and aiming down hill.

We soon got to know our "neighbours". We had a 7ft3" African man to our right who must have had sized 16 feet - he was enormous.

To our left we had 3 french guys who were chain smokers. I hate smoking fullstop and was getting really annoyed at them blowing smoke over us.Luckily they moved on.

Every so often the whole family would start to slide down the bank, a bit like the "human avalanche" - it was really slippery. We kept having to pull ourselves up where we could - it was terrible.

If one of us made a sudden movement the whole lot would go - we had to have a co ordinated approach for anyone who was getting pins and needles in their buttocks and needed to move!

On one of our 72 sliding moments down hill, our African friend saved the whole family, when Malc grabbed hold of his big toe which was sticking out of his sandal(Thank God it was just his toe that he grabbed !).

His big toe was about the same size as my foot -huge ! it was very embarassing having your husband Toe wrestle another man but we were very grateful !

In the end we actually did have a good view of the race but it would have been much nicer to have had a dust free seat.

By the time we got back to where we were staying some hours later we were filthy - but as most things we do it was a memorable experience !

I asked the question today - "Why are there no girl racers in the Grand Prix? ( apart from the Dolly birds holding umbrellas and walking up and down)the one unthought sentance in reply was very sexist - "Well it's very physical and you have to wee in the car".

What a load of old rubbish ! I ranted on about how physical child birth was and the fact that my bladder will last longer than Malc's in a test of endurance and I could certainly hold it for a 2 hour race.

I also added the very truthful fact that everyone knows - "Women are much better drivers than men!

So why are there no women race drivers in the Grand Prix? - It's very wrong!

Monday, 10 March 2008

My Town Monday - Part 3

Back to talking about one of the Towns pubs and Bishop's Stortford most famous arsonist - this time the "White Horse Inn " in North Street - sadly the pub is no longer there but instead stands a very nice Pizza Express restaurant complete with old world charm and beams.







On 24th March 1825 a fire was discovered in the early hours of the morning in a downstairs room of the White Horse. Fortunately the flames did not take hold and little damage was done.

But on 4 April, between eleven and twelve that night, the smell of burning alerted the landlord to yet another fire in the same room. Again the flames were extinguished before the fire could cause any real damage.

The fires were obviously the work of an arsonist but no reason could be found as to why the White Horse had been targeted.

Perhaps frustrated by his failed attempts, the following night the culprit turned his attention to a carpenter's shop in Hockerill with more success. The building was burned to the ground, as was an adjoining barn containing corn.

Understandably, the fires caused great alarm in the town, and on 6 April the town crier summoned vestry members to a parish meeting. A committee of eleven worthy citizens was formed and met daily with local magistrates.

They organised a subscription whereby £500 was raised as a reward for information leading to a conviction, and a vigilante commission patrolled the town every night.

No other fires were detected but on 10 April a threatening letter, written on cartridge paper and addressed to Joseph Taylor on the committee, was left at the North Street post office. It read thus:

'Revenge is sweet, we defy your police, or your £500. We are strong – you are weak; if Searle and Dunnage do not come home, Stortford shall be laid in ashes. I am their captain and leader, and we are sworn to revenge. I alone am possessed of a secret to fire any premises at a hundred yards distance, so watch on.'

The letter went on to say that three members of the committee had 'made themselves too busy' and that they would be sent to paradise as soon as possible – meaning they would be killed. Searle and Dunnage were two men from Bridge Street in the town, who had been committed to Hertford Gaol accused of stealing rabbits!

The death threats included in the letter added a new dimension to the drama. With no county police force at that time, the committee summoned the help of investigating officers from Bow Street in London. They immediately questioned family and friends of Searle and Dunnage but concluded they did not have the literacy required to write such a letter.

On 17 April the arsonist struck again, this time at a woollen drapery shop in North Street owned by William Francis. He, his wife and family of six daughters and one son lived above the shop, as did several live-in servants.

In the early hours of the morning, Francis's neighbour, Joseph Bruce, was woken by his daughter who had heard the crackling of fire. Discovering sparks coming from Francis's woodshed in the backyard, he raised the alarm and woke the Francis household.

As he did so he noticed 20 year-old Thomas Rees, the son of William Rees who lived on the other side of the Francis premises, run from an alley dressed only in his trousers and a nightcap. One of Francis's daughters, Sarah, looking from her window to see what the commotion was, also saw Thomas Rees who by now was waving his arms frantically and shouting that her house was on fire.

As William Francis gathered together his family ready to flee to safety a servant at the Star Inn in Bridge Street, George Bush, was already racing to get the fire engine. The Francis family and their servants all escaped unharmed and the fire was quickly extinguished.

During the investigation carried out by the Bow Street officer, J.J. Smith, and members of the committee who had originally summoned his help, it soon became apparent that separate fires had been started within the premises and in outside buildings.

Fortunately, though, the arsonist had proved incompetent at his work. Wheat straw, rosin or turpentine had been used to kindle the fires but because they'd been set in the wrong places they hadn't spread. Had they done so, then the Francis family and their servants could well have been lost in the blaze. In addition to the fire it was also discovered that four silver spoons had been stolen from the kitchen.

The layout of the properties led the investigators to believe that the arsonist must have entered the premises of William Francis from an adjoining property. On the northern side was William Rees, a shoemaker (Thomas's father), and on the south side lived Joseph Bruce, a druggist. Behind, to the east, was the stable of the Star Inn surrounded by an eight foot high wall topped with spikes.

Further investigation revealed that a shed in Rees's backyard abutted the adjoining fence of Mr Francis's backyard, and that a partition of loose boards inside could easily have been removed to allow access between the two properties. Also found at Rees's property were shards of glass similar to that of the outside washhouse that was torched, a large tub of rosin, and fragments of wheat straw. The latter items, however, were commonly used by shoemakers and were not evidence enough to arrest Thomas Rees.

The following evening John Turner, a servant of William Gee, a solicitor, discovered a second letter near the chancel of St Michael's church. It read:

'Devils, tremble: this is only the beginning: before one week is at an end you shall see such things as were never yet seen in Stortford. Devils, believe and tremble: dare you reject our proffered peace! dare you reject our mercy! woe be to three of Stortford! Pray send that lurcher home to his kennel in the lower hells on the back slums: £500 shall never bribe one of us to open our mouths, except it is to chaunt forth – Fire! Fire! Fire! Stortford flames shall reach the sky. N.B. Read, mark, believe, and tremble.'
(The reference to the 'lurcher' was taken to mean the Bow Street officer, and the 'lower hells on the back slums' referred to London)

Prior to John Turner finding the letter, Rees had been seen in the vicinity of St Michael's churchyard. When solicitor William Gee eventually saw the letter, the investigators concluded they now had sufficient evidence to arrest Thomas Rees. He was charged with arson, burglary and issuing threatening letters, and remanded at Hertford Gaol.

At 8am on 14 July at Hertford Summer Assizes, Thomas Rees appeared before Mr Baron Graham to answer the charges. By all accounts Thomas was respectably dressed. A green frock coat with velvet collar was matched with light trousers and striped waistcoat, and around his neck he wore a white cravat, fixed in place by a large brooch. He also wore black gloves and carried a bunch of lavender. His demeanor was calm and relaxed. Messrs Andrews, Broderick and Adolphus appeared for the prosecution, Messrs Jessop, Price and Law for the defence.

As the evidence for the prosecution unfolded, the jury also heard that while Rees had been in Hertford Gaol he had confessed his guilt to a fellow prisoner, Francis Anderson. The two men had subsequently argued, and Anderson later related Rees' confession to the Prison Governor. Rees then approached another prisoner by the name of Carter and tried to bribe him to say that Anderson was lying. Carter refused.

The prosecution then called their witnesses. Elizabeth Sheppherd, servant to Joseph Bruce, the druggist, told how she had been on the way to the privy between ten and eleven o'clock that night and saw Thomas Rees with a ladder dressed only in trousers and wearing a nightcap. When he saw her he said 'I'm looking for a bedfellow, Betsy.' To which she replied rather sharply, 'Then you must find one!'

Mr J.H. Mullinger, printer and stationer of North Street, testified that the watermark on the cartridge paper the letters had been written on was identical to that previously sold by him to Thomas Rees. This evidence meant little though, as such paper was commonly used by shoemakers to produce patterns.

Next up was James Bush, the son of a servant employed at the Star Inn, and John Fowler who worked for Rees's father. Both told of how Rees had told them of the contents of the first letter before it became common knowledge. But this evidence was called into dispute when it was revealed that Thomas Ley, William Gee's clerk, had discussed the letter with Thomas's father. He could not be certain whether Thomas had overheard the conversation.

The trial had lasted almost 13 hours before the judge began his summing up of the facts in detail, and then sent the jury to deliberate. They returned within 10 minutes. When the verdict of not guilty of arson was delivered, Rees fainted and was carried outside by the turnkeys. In his absence, Rees was arraigned on the charge of burglary but then acquitted through lack of evidence. On the third charge of sending threatening letters he was found guilty as charged. The judge pronounced sentence: transportation for life. He was not to hold or inherit or receive any property for the rest of his life.

Rees's two poacher friends at the heart of the incident were also transported after being found guilty of stealing rabbits. They were lucky, though. Francis Anderson, Rees' former cellmate, was sentenced to death for stealing a lamb.

After his conviction Thomas Rees joined other convicts who, at the cost of a shilling (5p) a head, were transported to one of several prison ships, possibly moored on the Thames at Woolwich. A few months later he was transferred to a convict ship and deported to Australia.He led a colourful life there - escaping, marrying , having several children before being recapture and eventually pardoned.



It still remains a mystery as to why Rees started the fires. His threat to burn down the town was never a real possibility but he may have had a grudge against his neighbour, William Francis, and used the other fires to disguise the fact. It's also likely that Rees would have hanged if found guilty of arson, which was a Capital offence. This was made clear to the jury at the start of the trial, so perhaps because they didn't want the death of a young man on their conscience they returned a verdict of not guilty.





Later on in the early 19th century fire insurance company produced ‘firemarks’ – theses were ‘Royal’ insurance plates attached to the exterior of buildings to indicate to fire fighters of the time that these houses were under that company’s cover.There are several houses in the town which still have these today.

Friday, 7 March 2008

Friendship and Family

I've been thinking today of how very lucky I am .

I have a fantastic family and wonderful friends who I love very much . I am also lucky enough to have good health ( -apart from my still aching back !!).

Life could be so much worse and for many people sadly it is.


I found this poem which I think sums up some of my thoughts today - so Thank you Friends, Blog friends and Family for everything !

Thank You, Friend

Thank you, friend, for all the things
That mean so much to me--
For concern and understanding
You give abundantly.

Thanks for listening with your heart;
For cheering me when I'm blue;
For bringing out the best in me;
And just for being you.

Thanks for in-depth conversation
That stimulates my brain;
For silly times we laugh out loud;
For things I can't explain.

For looking past my flaws and faults;
For all the time you spend;
For all the kind things that you do,
Thank you; thank you, friend.





I also received a beautiful bouquet of flowers today from Lyzzy which was a wonderful surprise - Thank you - they are lovely ! x

Wednesday, 5 March 2008

I need a rubber back bone please

I've been hobbling around like an old woman this week having done " I don't know what" to my lower back ( and Yes I know it's only 166 days until I'm 40 and this is the sign of the times).

The only way that I can describe it is like having the top half of my body ( above my waist) balancing on the lower half of my spine but feeling 100 times heavier.A bit like putting a Brick on top of an OXO stock cube.

I wouldn't mind if I had a humongous chest causing this phenomenon - but sadly I don't !!

I've tried to fix my own back and so firstly have rubbed deep heat into it. I'd forgotten how much that stuff stinks !! It's a bit like the smell of TCP - you can instantly smell who is wearing that - one person in the crowd of 1,000 and you can pick them out instantly !

I have swallowed any tablets that I could find in my kitchen medical drawer - even the ones at the back covered in fluff when the foil wrapper has been exposed -but to no avail.


It's amazing how I actually take my back for granted and all the things that it allows me to easily do when working properly - putting on my socks and shoes, bending down ,sitting down , sleeping ,standing, stretching up to get something out of a cupboard, carrying a bag, walking normally and not looking as though my bum cheeks have been glued together!

I was finally convinced to go to the doctor - something which I hate doing.

The doctor has told me that I have either slipped a disc out of line or trapped a nerve and to have a couple of weeks off work !

Although the thought of 2 weeks off work sounds great - I am hoping that my back will sort itself out as quickly as this problem came on and I will get back next week as I have so much on the go that only I can sort out.

I am currently swallowing pain killers given to me by the doctor but I seem to be having weird side effects from them - I am intensely itchy and my face has blotched over - really attractive to go with my old woman stoop!! and I feel intensely tired.

I decided to read the contra indications which are a book in themselves - I have the following possibly to look forward to -

Increased sweating, pain caused by spasm of the bile duct, palpitations ,nose bleeds,urinary system spasms,hallucinations (!)mental dullness (proof in this post!)excitation ( Yippee !)runny nose and skin rash .

So I have a dilemma - do I continue taking these monster sized tablets and suffer even more mental dullness,spotty skin, hallucinations and pee my pants or do I try to find an alternate remedy to get me back up and running??

One of my friends suggested hanging upside down by my ankles ( at least it wasn't by my neck I suppose) but what do I do in the meantime? - Help !!

Oh look - there's a flying sheep wearing a top hat playing a trumpet !

Some one tell me what to do please !!!!!!!!!!!

On a positive note - Dad in ICU is getting better and Sam got his 1st choice of secondary school !!

Monday, 3 March 2008

My Town Monday - Part 2

This week I thought I would write on some of the other "Pubs" in the town and their associated "Spirits!!"

The George Hotel competes with Tissiman's in the High Street for the mantle of oldest building in Bishop’s Stortford – though much of what you see is 17th, 18th and 19th century modernisation. It is, however, the town’s oldest recorded inn and the third oldest in Hertfordshire.




The original foundations were laid down at the end of the 14th century and first mention of the inn was in 1417 when one Thomas Petworth kept it.

Two memorable years in the town’s history were 1629 and 1630, when Charles I ‘dyned at ye George’ and the bells of St Michael’s church rang out to celebrate the fact.

That same century, Charles II rejected the royal palaces at Theobalds and Royston in favour of a move to Newmarket, making Bishop’s Stortford, and in particular the George, a convenient mid-way stop for him and his entourage while journeyings to and from London. Coupled with his love of the Newmarket races the King’s visits were frequent, but he disliked travelling through the busy town centre and hated even more the sight of the ‘cage’ that stood in the road outside the George.

Most small communities had a lock-up, or cage. It was where felons were held for short periods before being brought before a justice or transferred to other secure accommodation, but generally they held drunks who were released as soon as they sobered up.

The term 'cage' is misleading, most early lock-ups being built of wood, rather like a shed, and later versions built of stone and sometimes quite ornate. A bench seat would have been a luxury and sanitation was no more than a bucket.

In 1718, Stortford's cage was moved further along North Street, it stayed here until the 19th century when the Police cells took over.

Up until the early 1900s the inn carried a traditional sign depicting St George and the Dragon, but now shows a portrait of the Hanoverian King George III. This is probably acceptable as he was the first Hanoverian monarch to be born in England.




In common with most old buildings in this area the George is said to be haunted by the ghost of the "Grey Lady". She particularly likes old buildings and has been seen many times.

In "The George" she seems to have a keen interest in room 27, staff and guests in this room having experienced strange noises, doors that open of their own accord and an eerie ‘watchful’ presence.




Sightings of the Grey Lady have also been reported at the Boar’s Head Inn, Tissimans, the Black Lion Inn and Coopers in Bridge Street – the latter building often frequented in the 16th century by the notorious Protestant reformer, Bishop Edward Bonner. In the not so distant past, staff and other workers in the store have experienced ‘bodiless’ footsteps, items mysteriously crashing from shelves, and a ‘terrifying presence’. Strangely, though, there is no knowledge of any shop customers ever being aware of these 'ghostly' goings-on.

When the shop traded under the name of Handscomb's, a figure in grey was regularly seen in an upper room vanishing through a wall, and always in one particular spot. Later alterations to the room, in which plaster was removed from the wall, revealed a blocked up doorway at the same point where the apparition vanished.

Past owner, Peter Maslen, once invited a two-man team from Cambridge University to investigate the strange happenings in the store, who concluded the premises was haunted by two ghosts; one a man who was quite harmless, the other a woman of a violent nature.

In the 1980s the 16th century Cock Inn at Hockerill also went through a phase of mysterious happenings when two 'ghosts' began to appear and disappear very quickly – the landlord’s wife reporting several sightings of a serving wench and a man dressed in Civil War clothing.



Later renovation work within the pub resulted in tables being mysteriously thrown about, lamps being smashed and an unnatural coldness in the air. A suggestion that the ghosts might be upset by the alterations taking place, prompted the landlady to put flowers everywhere and give the place a more homely feel. It certainly seemed to work. The pub quickly returned to normal and the 'ghosts' were never seen or heard again.

A not so well known story, verbally handed down over the years, is of the ghost that regularly paraded the gardens of former Windhill House – which is now a Solicitors. In the early 1800s, when it was feared Napoleon might invade England, a local band of yeomanry was raised under the command of Captain Winter.

As owner of Windhill House, he gave permission for the company of soldiers to camp in the extensive grounds, and one night decided to test the alertness of the sentries on duty. Unfortunately, one sentry was too alert. Not waiting to question the approaching figure, he fired his musket and fatally wounded the Captain.

There is certainly a memorial in St Michael's churchyard dedicated to the memory of a Ralph Winter Esq, who died 8 July 1802, aged 63, but there is no written evidence of the incident!

A Week summed up in a few words!

Work,

Dad in ICU following major operation

More work ,

Mothers Day ( Lovely - Thank you kids x)

Waiting for Secondary school placement results ,

One lower backbone that has decided not to work (mine)

STRESS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!