Showing posts with label Rhiaan. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Rhiaan. Show all posts

Monday 29 January 2024

Palin's Uncle and Mithras, as it were...


Having been touring Ancestry myself recently I found it interesting that Michael Palin, famous from all his many TV appearances, would have been doing similar, though he being able to afford a proper genealogist to do much of the hard work for him.  However, he had to do his part, aided by documents, diaries, letters and so on that were donated to him from various family members.  Luckily, his family dated back into the mid-Victorian era, a time where such people kept all letters for posterity.  My Grandfather dated from a similar era and if there are any letters, bar demands for rent, they have disappeared into his first family vaults somewhere.  Such documents are treasure trove to a family history detective.  They give information and insight into the person like nothing else.  That is, if they speak their mind and not just simple messages.  
The author decided to investigate the Black Sheep of the family, his Great Uncle Harry.  Harry was the 7th child of the Vicar of Linton, a typical well-to-do family, with their own particular history.  However, though all the boys attended Shrewsbury School, one of those famous 'Public Schools' that only the rich can afford, two brothers went on to do well, one a doctor and the other a solicitor.  Harry failed at school, that is he left after two months, and was clearly not one to follow his family paths.
Palin follows Harry as the family send him to India, hoping the Raj will stimulate what all good Victorians sought, success according to the fashion of the day.  He spends 3 years in an unsatisfactory job, at least the railway thought him 'unsatisfactory,' and was then dumped on a tea plantation in the hope he would 'make something of himself.'  This too failed.  Clearly he as not built for such things.  
The story unfolds as Great Uncle Harry, though he would not have called himself that at the time, made his way to New Zealand, worked on a farm, possibly found some happiness, yet when war was declared in 1914 he joined the colours like thousands of others.  
What made men beginning a new life thousands of miles from home enlist to save the 'old country?'  
We follow Harry through the 'Nzeders' at Gallipoli, and then on to the 'Western Front.'  Here, somewhat inevitably Harry perishes on the Somme.  
Michael Palin makes a good effort at trying to piece together a  story, a story in which so much is missing.  No living person spoke to Harry, Harry himself did not reveal much of his thoughts in his letters and diary.  So the author has to guess rather too much at what was going through the mans mind as he moved around and 'sought himself,' as the Hippies used to.  Though there are gaps in the story I still found it interesting and the book easy to read.  Well worth a glance I say.


Another example of Rhiaan's research 

Wednesday 22 November 2023

Bruce, Bleach and Blether


With Xmas approaching, you may have heard about it by now, I have been scouring the second hand book market for items suitable for the lassies up north who can read.  This is a suitable talent as it means they can explain the big words to their men.  
One beautiful and highly intelligent niece has always had a thing for King Robert the Bruce.  As a lass she forced her mother to trail around Dunfermline, where he is buried, and elsewhere looking for a sight of him, or something connected to him.  While it is possible she may already have this book dumped in a cupboard somewhere, I thought I would include it in the box I will send.
The late David R. Ross wrote quite a few books about Scotland and her people, this is the only one I have actually read.  It combines the history of the man with a tourist guide to places connected to him.  Ross has done his best to visit all the connecting castles, battlefields, houses and such like that are believed to have seen the great Robert pass by through touring them on his motorbike.  
The known genealogy is traced, his two wives, both dying before him, their suffering under the terrors of Edward I and his brutality, their imprisonment, and following successful births his son.  
Edward, like all Englishmen, consider Scotland to be theirs, they are very wrong!  Bruce endured much pain and loss, his brothers dying, sometimes barbarically under Edward's thuggery.  However no matter how he tried Edward could not control Scotland, William Wallace ought to have made that clear to him!  And happily Edward the Brute died near Carlisle once again attempting the impossible, to control Scotland.  Three cheers!
This book details the failures as well as successes.  The guerrilla warfare, the main battles 'God bless Bannockburn!'  and the suffering of those imprisoned.  What cannot be known, but only guessed at, is the response of the soldiers on both sides.  Some English Knights left writings, some Scots nobles, but the man in the army could not do this.  Enthusiastic they certainly were, and very willing to risk all for the cause, but we do not know what they actually thought, this is sad.
Edward II was disposed off by his wife and Knights, Edward III attempted war, and lost, and the ravaging of the north of England put many English nobles off the idea of war.  In the end economic loss, an understanding they could not win, caused Edward III to seek peace.  
Bruce then established his Kingdom and Scotland was able to flourish without barbaric English interference.  At least for a while, the inbuilt English imperialism and arrogance remains with us still!
The 1707 bribery and the intimidation at the referendum see Scotland stuck under the English Jackboot still.  This will not last.  Another Bruce will arise, and Special Branch will not defeat that one, and Scotland will once again be free!


Anyone wish to argue?

  

At last I can look forward to breathing fresh air once again.  No more bleach on every suitable surface!  The landlords woman came today.  She was quite happy considering she got locked inside one flat.  I wondered if he in flat No 6 was having a strange turn, but it was the broken locks on the door meant she could not get out.  When I found her she was with two locksmiths attempting to put right all that flats locks.
She came, she wandered about taking a picture here a picture there, all the time telling me to stop licking her feet.  I am off the opinion she ought to have removed her shoes first.  The inspection was short, friendly, and we discussed one or two things, but not the things I remembered long after she had departed!  Why is it always like this?  No complaint was made, not even from other tenants!  
The bar of Christmas chocolate donated to her also made her happy, always a success with women is chocolate, and she left me with no threats of drastic action, as yet anyway.  Now, I must uncover all the hidden things and put them right before she comes back!  
I could not discover what the game was.  I canny understand this inspection.  Of course during the previous years the boys have been working on the flats so problems have been obvious to them, if any. Now I just await any comeback from this.  Back at HQ they will inspect the pictures, lay plans for the cheapest option on any proposed action, but so far all appears well.  However, as we get on well, and her man is one of the boys who fix things and he is good, and the mess has been cleaned up, it all may pass over.  Also she never mentioned anything out of place, so maybe all will be well.  
Unless something is afoot down at HQ.
It is however, difficult to move when you expect a visit and the place is clean.  I was scared to touch anything in case I had to scrub it again!  Now I can relax, but I actually like it clean, I wonder how long it will last?

  

Subscribing to this young lass would be good, if that is you find this interesting and entertaining.  She is very clever, she told me this herself, and mum and dad are so pleased after spending so much money educating her!

Friday 4 June 2010

A Very Random Sense Poem








   A Very Random Sense Poem


I saw a black cat as black as the ocean at night
I saw a young man as mad as a hatter
I saw a puppy as fierce as a lion


I heard the wind as fierce as the sun's blaze
I heard a faint cry from a man as poor as a church mouse
I heard her voice as clear as a whistle 
I heard the girl sing as sweet as honey from a hive


I felt the ghost's cold touch as cold as frostbite
I felt the warm coat as warm as wool
I felt the dog's ears as soft as silk


I smelt the gas as strong as a horse
I smelt a rose as red as blood
I smelt the smoke as bold as brass
I smelt a daffodil as yellow as a banana


I tasted a peach as good as gold
I tasted a lemon as bitter as vinegar
I tasted a strawberry as red as a rose
I tasted a banana as yellow as a chick




Rhiaan




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