Sunday, October 27, 2013

Congratulations to Sepia Saturday 200th edition






Congratulations to Sepia Saturday 200th edition, and a special thank you to all those administrators who keep it running so smoothly.

I am sorry I have been away for the summer. I bought 3 packets of tomato seeds and got 33 seeds. With love and care each seed produced a beautiful plant, but the sheer attention to these plants has kept me in the garden and away from any blogging. Today as I write the clocks have gone back, a storm is brewing in the Atlantic, and the last tomato has to be picked. So maybe I will be back blogging soon....who knows?

It was hard to chose my favourite blog, so I just chose the one with the most comments, and it has some of my favourite sepia family photos. It also starts with the tones of the coming winter, and include some of my sillier ideas !!










I recognised him immediately. Being trained in observation from an early age as a Cub Scout was only part of it. What really made me jump was the connection with an inheritance from my grandmother, Granny Aspdin, (yes, the wife of my cycling bank clerk of a grandfather about whom I wrote last week). The inheritance is the only first edition book I have on my shelf, and were it not in less than mint condition I dare say it would be worth a bob or two.
My treasured first edition.





The book is very well known, and I will be surprised if I am the only one this week to have recognised Jerzy Fröwn, discretely standing there. His subtle choice of black on a snowy day is reflective of his early days training in the Czech navy, and quite possibly explains why he was fatally shot. [See 3rd line of page 2].

It was an unfortunate start to de-coding the message from Q his cell had received the day before, S370HSSV-0773H. He he never did realise he was reading it upside down.










But............... I know readers really want to know about my Granny Aspdin and English winters, so here she is in the 1930s in an era when we had genuine weather in Derby, and when water froze, those awful days before we finally succeeded in our quest to warm Earth sufficiently to stop us East-Midlanders having anything more than mud, fog  and grey skies in winter.

The nee Slater girls, Granny-Evelyn Aspdin right and
 sister Beatrix Smith left. The Mundy Paddling Pool,
 Markeaton Park, Derby, circa 1930, and today, below.




Granny Aspdin had married my grandfather Bertie Aspdin in 1914.



The "going away"....

....Vernon Street, Derby, 1914....woops !


 They must have had the wedding reception here at home, the family home where I now live, as photo evidence shows it did not entirely go without a hitch when they came to leave. Granny had a good life and lived into her 80s, but she always seemed jinxed on such occasions by unreliable transport. I remember that after the church funeral in 1966 all my family climbed into the big black limousine provided by the undertakers, only to find that the battery was flat. With my father telling me to get out and help push ( I refused out of embarrassment as a 16 year old) all the mourners put their shoulders behind the limo' for a jump start. A smooth purr later from the Rolls Royce engine and off we went, following Granny in the hearse to the crematorium.

(Photo 1904)  Granny Aspdin's father William Slater had built the house in
1895 for his family, below....

William Slater's children, Beatrix, the youngest and Evelyn (lower seated),
 with Alice, William and Harry. Can you recognise Evelyn and Beatrix
 on the skating photo?  Circa 1891


My great-grandfather William Slater with skating daughters Evelyn
(left) and Beatrix, outside the kitchen door. Circa 1899


Me with my daughters, Alice  (left) and Fiona, same pose,same place,
 just over 100 years later ! 2003.

Oh!...its Alice's 20th birthday Tuesday, I think I will post this early, she's away at University and I need to send her a card, this post can be her card, that will save a couple of quid.

 Happy Birthday AL !!
 Love Daddy xxxxxxxxxxxxx




The End


PS

I scanned an image from page 2 of the book for you.




















Thursday, July 18, 2013

What a ghastly photo !!



This photo is the Sepia Saturday prompt this week. We bloggers try to follow the theme, in some vague way, as a seed in our thoughts. Sepia Saturday provides bloggers with an opportunity to share their history through the medium of photographs. Historical photographs of any age or kind become the launchpad for explorations of family history, local history and social history in fact or fiction, poetry or prose, words or further images. Click here to learn more.



There was a Celt queen named Boud'ca
Whose armour did never quite suit her
The heat of her body
Left her feeling quite soggy
A sense not unknown to Madonna.




The end
(It's all I can manage this week due to an unusual British heatwave !!)





Thursday, July 11, 2013

Dangerous Manhole Covers of New York



This photo is the Sepia Saturday prompt this week. We bloggers try to follow the theme, in some vague way, as a seed in our thoughts. Sepia Saturday provides bloggers with an opportunity to share their history through the medium of photographs. Historical photographs of any age or kind become the launchpad for explorations of family history, local history and social history in fact or fiction, poetry or prose, words or further images. Click here to learn more.

A chic young dame of New York
In the rain she loved to walk
Only the China-man knew
That one spark from her shoe
Would blow the damp dame to chalk




The End


Thursday, July 4, 2013

Louis's Breakfast


This photo is the Sepia Saturday prompt this week. The plaque is in Arbois, France, on a pillar dedicated to Louis Pasteur and his achievements.We bloggers try to follow the theme, in some vague way, as a seed in our thoughts. Sepia Saturday provides bloggers with an opportunity to share their history through the medium of photographs. Historical photographs of any age or kind become the launchpad for explorations of family history, local history and social history in fact or fiction, poetry or prose, words or further images. Click here to learn more.



An official apology

I am afraid it is Wimbledon week and I have little time to think about Louis Pasteur. Anyway, he is French, and it is considered polite in English society just to ignore the French (the men anyway...), as they love to attract attention.

So I am afraid I have not had any time to look for photos this week, but please..........do watch this Youtube, and you may hopefully feel extremely educated about this simple French discovery....






Vive Bartoli !!!!!!



Thursday, June 27, 2013

The Wombles of Wombeyan.....



This photo is the Sepia Saturday prompt this week. We bloggers try to follow the theme, in some vague way, as a seed in our thoughts. Sepia Saturday provides bloggers with an opportunity to share their history through the medium of photographs. Historical photographs of any age or kind become the launchpad for explorations of family history, local history and social history in fact or fiction, poetry or prose, words or further images. Click here to learn more.



The Wombeyan Caves were first inhabited by..........

Wombles
During the late 18th and 19th centuries, large numbers of criminal Wombles were transported from Wimbledon Common to the various Australian penal colonies by the British government. One of the primary reasons for the British settlement of Australia was the establishment of a penal colony to alleviate pressure on their overburdened prison regime for these irritatingly tidy creatures. Over the 80 years more than 165,000 Wombles were transported to Australia. [Source: Wombedia]





All was well for many years with this population until.....




....one socialist thinking Womble got stroppy in 2013.

"Oi mate!.. (he wrote to the nice lady Australian Prime Minister)....."I need a new scarf"




And like every good Labour Prime Minister.......


She set about knitting one for him...........
(She has Wild Welsh Womble blood it is alleged, how could she refuse this mis-shapen request from a distant cousin?)


After all......

....she had a little wool left over from her own scarf.



But in politics such nepotism is dangerous...

Her best friend Kevin had only received a rather cheap polysester school tie  after being ousted as Prime Minister.

He got mighty mad......


and sulked ........

and sulked......


Until he eventually got his own way.......

Now everyone is unhappy in Australia....except of course... The Warm Wombles of Wombeyan Caves.



The End


Thursday, June 20, 2013

The Milk Inspector calls.....

This photo is the Sepia Saturday prompt this week. We bloggers try to follow the theme, in some vague way, as a seed in our thoughts. Sepia Saturday provides bloggers with an opportunity to share their history through the medium of photographs. Historical photographs of any age or kind become the launchpad for explorations of family history, local history and social history in fact or fiction, poetry or prose, words or further images. Click here to learn more.


This man is an Australian milk inspector......

He condemns milk and is the scourge of the farmer
(Note: The muslin shoulder bag contains a personal maturing cheese he made some months ago and is keeping warm in his armpit. More detail and full recipe at http://agapakis.com/cheese.html where you will discover that m
any of the stinkiest cheeses are hosts to species of bacteria closely related to the bacteria responsible for the characteristic smells of human armpits or feet.


...and milk inspectors abound the world over........



Canadian




British

 ( John Cheese, formerly with the Ministry of Agriculture)



Belgian



USA

(Dairy Queen quality control)



Kosher

Mixtures of milk and meat (Hebrewבשר בחלב‎, basar bechalav, literally "meat in milk") are prohibited according to Jewish law. This dietary law, basic to kashrut, is based on a verse in the Book of Exodus, which forbids "boiling a (kid) goat in its mother's milk" (Source Wikipedia)




USA, Maryland

(former unemployed magician, re-trained)



China

(after removing all nutritious melamine for use as an additive for baby food, the milk is poured on the farmland)



Egypt

(Makes a well balanced cheese)




The Ultimate Inspector....

The well-known advertising slogan for Whiskas was "eight out of ten owners said their cat prefers it". After a complaint to the Advertising Standards Authority, this had to be changed to "eight out of ten owners who expressed a preference said their cat prefers it". (Wikipedia)
(But I really think my dear Bessie is a snob...Whiskas is twice the price of supermarket own brand !)



The end

Thursday, June 13, 2013

Introducing: Miss. Ethel Sludge......Sepia Saturday 181


This photo is the Sepia Saturday prompt this week. We bloggers try to follow the theme, in some vague way, as a seed in our thoughts. Sepia Saturday provides bloggers with an opportunity to share their history through the medium of photographs. Historical photographs of any age or kind become the launchpad for explorations of family history, local history and social history in fact or fiction, poetry or prose, words or further images. Click here to learn more.




All about Miss. Ethel Sludge and family.

I have seen this daguerreotype before today.........This charming image of Ethel Sludge “Oil-Eyes-Ethel”, one of the most famous of the early Texan oil heiresses.


 Readers will surely know that she was the great-great Aunt of........ 


.....the delightful Pamela Ewing.
(Note: Pam is wearing her great-great aunt's earings)



I let my train of thought wander.....


...actually its a through train,
but its all Google could come up with.





It set me reminiscing...................


...do you remember the 80s when we watched TV in the evenings?


I wondered...............


....was J.R. a sweet natured man? No hang-ups?

After all.............


....he looked it sometimes.

Or was he..........


....really like Narcissus?
(What Narcissus Really Saw, after Caravannio)




With fear I recalled......

Debugger





.........a person who gave me a considerable email bashing a couple of weeks ago, and which through my own silly fault I compounded by bothering to reply. I had to wonder why she was so bothered to try to offend me, and then go on to lecture me as if she was a professional tutor and I was some poor little lad sent to her to improve my social skills. You know the type of person..."I'm a very busy person..."...implying that the rest of us are lazy thick old toads.





Me being defragmented.
But.....

....she did teach me one good lesson (actually I already knew it but am always tempted to forget):

DO NOT  reply to a rude or sarcastic email.

and although I did not advise her so, I will ask you now:

“Please don’t send emails to me when you have had a few drinks” (especially if it’s still 10am your time !)




Wondering if JR and my attacker shared a trait.....

.......I Googled “Self importance”  It seemed seemed a good idea. A sort of on-line health check. Was it me who had a problem, or the person who digitally hit me? Which of us had a chip on our shoulder? Why was I so megabitten by her? Why was she such a Tera-RAM?

I discovered the problem of self importance really exists as Narcissistic Personality Disorder, NPD.

I also have to say, honestly, that it made most interesting reading on Wikipedia. I was able to reflect on all and many spats I have had with people over time, face to face, or in correspondence, and wonder if I, he/she, or both of us were the sufferers. But I will be the judge of that, and I’m not going to share the judgment with you !


The more worrying thing....

.........is that researchers have suggested  that the incidence of NPD has more than doubled in the US in the prior 10 years, and that 1 in 16 of the population have experienced NPD. (One has to assume that such conclusions might  be applied to similar economies and western cultures, so this is not a dig at US Sepians!).

They have PH.D.s, they must be smart...



 It has been suggested that the cause of this may be social networking online......

.........if its true, we are all on the slippery path. Beware!



Thank you Oil-Eyes-Ethel.....for enabling my travel down this interesting route.







Ethel Sludge died in Devon, England, in 1945.
She never returned to Texas.


Ethel Sludge.....R.I.P.
(simulation image of her now hidden grave)




The End




P.S.

All my life I have wanted to know Ethel Sludge better. 

When I was a six year old (1956 say) we used to go and visit my great uncle and aunt who lived on Beesands, a quite remote village and beach in Devon. They lived in a nice house, Sunnydale, conveniently converted during WWII by the US Army into a concrete pill-box, and very much still containing many tons of concrete that Uncle Percy never did chip away by the time he died.


Beesands, early 1900s. Sunnydale, the house at the farthest end of the beach., by the quarry.
(Own collection..post card)

The beach was adjacent to, and operationally part of, the next beach Slapton Sands, which was in 1944 part of the site of the ill-fated Exercise Tiger. and Exercise Fabius. These were exercises practicing the forthcoming Normandy Landings by elements of the 1st Infantry Division and 29th Infantry Division (United States).



Torcross and Slapton Sands.
A postcard by J Salmon Ltd, circa 1920s, from an original water colour drawing by A.R.Quinton
(Own Collection)


Behind Beesands there was a sign by a patch of derelict farmland: "Ethyl Sludge is buried here" and as we passed I always asked my Dad who Ethel Sludge was. I suppose it amused my parents. Eventually I got the correct message, but to this day I always think of dear Ethel when I recall Devon.

Presumably it was a dumping ground created when the US military emptied their fuel supplies and sediments as they cleared the area after the war, ready to hand back to the evacuated population.