To a tee

My sister and I decided to have a day out with our Dad a few weeks ago. Now that's not as easy as it sounds as he and my Mum are incredibly active still and have travelled widely. He is also a keen walker and there isn't much ground left in West Sussex which he won't have already covered. However, I did happen to know that he hasn't yet visited the Wings museum https://gnatbottomedtowers.blogspot.com/search?q=wings+museum so that's where we plumped for. Since my previous visit they have rejigged all of the displays and it was just as fascinating as it was the first time around. Nevertheless it is all WWII related and I've chosen not to blog again about its content as some of it is difficult and I think we've all got enough on our plates right now. What I did find extraordinary though was this set of rules from 1940 for playing golf during these times. The mind quite boggles whilst managing to be frightfully British with a 'keep calm and carry on' attitude about the whole beastly business of war!

It's such an interesting place and the volunteers are an excellent source of information. We rounded off our day with a pint of good Sussex ale in a nearby country pub. Such times are to be treasured. Hope you have a fabulous weekend.

Arilx

Our Smallest Bird

This is the Goldcrest and it is the UK's smallest bird weighing in at a hefty 5g. The male has the blob of orange in addition to the yellow on its head. Rest assured that both birds were being handled by a qualified bird ringer and are so relaxed that they doze off in his hand. They were released back from whence they came very shortly after they had been caught to be ringed and recorded.

 As for me I am now a distinctly weary old bird now as this bird ringing event meant me getting up at the unearthly hour of 4.30am to be on the nature reserve by 6. I managed to persuade David to come with me this time as I knew he would love seeing all the birds at such close quarters. We've been joined by a good friend for lunch here and tonight I am going dancing. What a glutton for punishment. Tomorrow I expect to feel half dead, but oh so worth it😀

꩜Aril꩜

Corking

 I chuckled with delight as I came across this cork in a shop window which measured from my wrist to my elbow. Sadly though, try as I might, I couldn't find the bottle which it fitted🍾🤣

Have good weekend. More dancing in this little part of Sussex. Next week will be our 6th on the trot and then we get a few weeks off. Hmm...more mischief!!

꩜Aril꩜

The Tin Nose Shop

 

I feel that there probably aren't many of us who will design our own tombstone, but for those with the natural ability like the British sculptor Francis Derwent Wood, then maybe it doesn't come as such a surprise. Like me you may not be familiar with this artist's work and in all honesty I have no idea how well known he was then or now. Born in 1871 he found that he was too old to enlist for active service on the front line in WWI so he decided to sign up for the Royal Medical Corps instead as an orderly. During his time he saw horrendous injures and those with facial disfigurement faced a particularly harsh return into society. Not only were these poor men suffering from PTSD, but they were often shunned because of the fear and disgust caused by the sight of their very visible injuries. Some were treated by the pioneers of plastic surgery which was just starting to come in, but most were given a rubber mask to hide behind. Derwent Wood realised that he could utilise his skills to improve the lot of those afflicted. Using pre-war photos of the individuals once they had healed he made thin metal masks upon which he hand painted in the missing features. This did go some way to disguising the facial horrors inflicted by the war, but they unfortunately proved to be hot and uncomfortable to wear. The soldiers called it 'The Tin Nose Shop'

Wood's grave, along with the photos below, are in the beautiful Sussex village of Amberly, which sits nestled in a valley in the South Downs just a stone's throw from Arundel. As you can see it is delightful....David and I were tasked with the difficult job of carrying out a quality control test on the cakes in the newly taken over tea room. I am delighted to report that they passed with flying colours and we went ahead with the purchase of an afternoon tea voucher for my parents for their diamond wedding present. It was a tough job, but I feel that I am perfectly qualified with the number of cafe trips I have got under my belt since retiring!

The house below is Kennards and dates from 1550.

What else are you going to call a house with a pig above the door? Bacons it is🐷

꩜Aril꩜

Welcoming Summer

 I had the most incredible time being at the Deptford Jack in the Green on Friday celebrating Beltane. The folk custom of having a jack parading along the streets dated back to at least the 19th century and inspired by the popular Hastings version, it was brought back in the 1980s. It is a much smaller affair, but full of energy and bonhomie with people just coming together and celebrating community. I loved it💚

The jack is built the night before at the Dog and Bell pub and it's here where it sets off around on its route. There is one fellow in there who leaps about with great skill and the chap in the green tatters is one of the bogies who leads him because, as you can imagine, he only has a very restricted view. The following procession is made up of musicians and morris dancers together with the sparkly pink 'obby 'oss which spins and whirls. You soon learn to give it space and the legendary Deptford Gut Girls. They worked down at the docks gutting all the slaughtered animals and were known for their raucous unruly behaviour. Originally it was a man's job, but they took over in 1891 after and a strike and were noted for receiving a higher rate of pay than most working class women of that era. 

It was a warm day in London so we were mightily relieved when we stopped for a break by the Thames and enjoyed the breeze coming in off the river. As it was lunchtime by then my friend and I sought out a spot of shade in which to enjoy our lunch, but people kept finding us and asking us if we minded them taking our photo. The salmon got a lot of love!

My friend is Deptford born and bred and although she moved to Sussex a few years ago [hence the connection] she comes back regularly to see friends and family. One of the advantages of being with someone who knows the area like the back of her hand was that she knew exactly where to go to get ahead so that we could get a table at the next pub pitstop and enjoy a quiet drink before the mayhem started again. We stuck it out until the last but one place, but we were both had been on our feet for hours and were ready to head home. The jack returns to the original pub at the end where he is slain and the greenery is handed out to the audience. I only caught a few glimpses of what this part of South London has to offer, but I'll finish with a few shots I took in passing. I think it likely that we might go back up there one day and she'll show me around properly, but on a day when it's not chock a block with people.

Arilx

No jacket required.

Maybe no jacket required, but most definitely jacket needed when spotted for a fiver in the charity shop last week. I must remember never to wear it if I am passing through Tottenham Court Road tube station for fear of blending seamlessly in with the Paolozzi mosaics!

꩜Aril꩜

 

Grubby

It pleased me greatly to stumble across this street sign near Borough Market on a recent trip up into town to meet my pal Lovely Grey. What was even better was discovering later on that it is a genuine name and not something cooked up to play to all the tourists you get round there [myself included]. As I travelled back on the train I mused to myself that you just don't find this type of thing recorded in Horsham. Once upon a time we had Gibbet Lane [now Giblets Lane], Pest House Lane and when I was a child the sign for Highlands Road said it had been formerly called Grub Street, but all trace has now been removed. I realise that people probably don't want to live on roads where we are reminded of their less than salubrious past, but the naughty part of my brain is absolutely delighted to have unearthed this little gem since my visit. There I was reading a rather dry [although of great interest to me] tome about the local timber framed buildings when one particular paragraph revealed that our Park Street was known in former times as Sh*tbourne Lane. I inwardly whooped with delight😏 However, I will not be sharing on any of the local social media platforms because even I know that I will get myself into hot water.

Talking about all things dirty and grubby yours truly has literally been getting filthy. I realised a lifelong ambition on Saturday and went on my first archaeological dig. Am not that naive to expect to find any great treasures, but was chuffed to find a couple of small pieces of green glazed medieval pottery and some butchered animal bones on the site so I know people were there eating 800 years ago. Unfortunately much as I would love to be able to tell you where we are not allowed to share any details because of the threat of night hawks swooping in. It's no secret that I am a reluctant gardener at the best of times so am not really used to do any sort of extended digging so my legs were letting me know yesterday when I was out dancing. However, I am a glutton for punishment and we are going back again tomorrow. The project finishes on Wednesday. This is not the shard that I found by the way, but a similar sort of thing.

꩜Aril꩜