recently returned from a lovely cruise sailing from Southampton to the Canary Islands. It had been a bit of a stressful year and I was really looking forward to the break. Even the morning that we were due to leave, one of my cats was found to have an open wound from a burst abscess. Despite being 15 years old, he still insists on defending his territory. An emergency trip to the vet and we were finally able to send him to the cattery and set off.
The cruise was amazing. But for some reason I found it difficult to relax. Normally it's my hubby who takes a few days to unwind, but this time it was me. But eventually the cruise atmosphere worked its magic and I had a lovely time. I had planned to write about it, and I may yet, but for some reason since I've returned from the cruise, I'm been in a bit of a funk and have felt unable to write.
So what's changed?
Our little visitor
This afternoon I walked into town to do some shopping. My walk into town is particularly idyllic. It involves me walking past the historic buildings of Cogges Manor Farm, where I do my Downton Abbey tours. Then I pass an old church and cross two bridges before reaching the town centre. There are ducks, swans and moorhens on the river. The ducks are common old Mallards, but a few months ago, on the first of May in fact, on my way into town I spotted a different type of duck. As soon as I arrived back home, I googled images of ducks and thought that our little visitor was a Ruddy Duck. I also found an article that said that some Ruddy ducks had recently escaped from a wildlife sanctuary and were causing havoc among the local duck population.
I'd taken a photo of him and I posted the image on Facebook and Twitter. A few people begged to differ with my conclusion as to the type of duck he was. Someone said he was a Mallard who's mother hadn't been too fussy in her choice of father, another that he was a Call duck. So we had a bit of a duckgate situation going on. At this time I was sticking to my original thinking that he was a Ruddy duck.
A Ruddy duck
At first always seemed to be on his own. The local Mallards seemed to be either shunning him or at times bullying him. Someone called in to Cogges and asked if we could take him and wanted to get the RSPCA involved. But as it was at the time of year when drakes fight among themselves in order to attract a mate, I didn't think that he was being singled out for bullying. St ill,he wasn't being accepted either.
My first sighting of the 2 Call ducks together,
One day on my way into town, as I crossed the bridge I looked out for him and this time, when I spotted him, he was with a little white female duck. I took a photo of her and shared it on Facebook. A friend responded by saying that this was a female Call duck. My little friend had found a mate and this convinced me that he too was a Call duck.
I was so pleased for him. Now when I walk into town I look to check that they are still together. I'm happy to report that they are. Not only that, but the other ducks seem to have accepted him now. In fact I've seen him on occasions 'hanging out with the lads.'
Still together.
Seeing the pair today really cheered me up and inspired me to tell their story. Call me an old romantic, but I think it's lovely the way that these 2 ducks have found each other. I believe that there is someone for everyone. Nature has shown this to be true.
I don't know if they'll stay with us? I hope so. I also hope that next year we'll see some little Call ducklings. This would be the perfect end to my Duck Tale.
See below a little video of them together, I defy you to watch it and not smile. I know I did.
Photo of Ruddy duck courtesy of:- http://ow.ly/Sc3kP
Well, can you believe it's that time of year again? WOAPA DAY has once more been and gone. I can't believe how fast this year is going. This Sunday in August has got to be one of the highlights of my year and serves to keep me from getting withdrawal symptoms as we don't meet on a Wednesday during the school holidays.
Every year a theme is chosen for the day and this year it was music from the 60's. Being a 'lady of a certain age', I knew that I would really enjoy singing songs which I was sure would bring back memories. I was not disappointed.
Jo and Diane practising
As usual we gathered at 10am in the main hall of a local school. There was an excited buzz, with a few brave individuals who had opted to do a duet or group performance busily expressing their nervousness and questioning their sanity. Some of the more seasoned performers seemed to be taking it in their stride.
I felt quite sombre at the beginning as we arrived to the lilting sound of Cilla Black singing, 'Anyone who had a heart', particularly poignant as Cilla had recently passed away and if anyone female singer embodied the 60's, for me it is Cilla.We sang a range of songs including a Eurovision and a Beatles Medley, with a lot of other brilliant songs in between.
Anyone who has read any of my previous blogs will know that I'm a frustrated Karen Carpenter or Lulu, and this is usually my time to get up on the stage and sing a solo. But this year I decided to just enjoy the day and let other people experience butterflies in the stomach and feeling sick, that accompany the nerves of solo performing. But fate had other ideas. The previous Wednesday I was approached by Lou and asked if I'd be willing to step in and sing a duet with Gail, as her partner couldn't make it. With very little persuasion, I agreed. The song being, 'To Sir with Love'.
Our two brave guys.
There were a few firsts that day. for one thing, we had some men come along and not only did they join in the day, they actually gave a wonderful rendition of Elvis's 'The Wonder of You'. Another first was Tom, Brian and Lou's eldest son, taught us a number from the musical Hairspray called, 'Welcome to the Sixties', which he conducted for us in the evening's performance. And a brilliant job he did too.
After an exhausting , but fun day, we had a break for a couple of hours, then reconvened at 7pm to perform in front of our family and friends.
The Golden Girls
The evening began with us all singing, 'Welcome to the Sixties' , followed by, the wonderful Petula Clark's, 'Downton'. Then seven of our more mature ladies, calling themselves 'The Golden Girls' sang a number called, 'Everybody's Somebody's Fool'. The girls were really nervous, but did a great job, so much so, that Brian asked them to sing a few lines together in the closing number of the show. The rest of the programme was supposed to be;-
Eurovision Medley, Everyone Son of a Preacher Man, Chris and Gladys, (alias Lucy) Build Me Up Buttercup, Jo and Diane Beatles Medley, Everyone Ain't No Mountain High Enough, Laura and Marilyn Something Tells Me I'm Into Something Good, Everyone To Sir With Love, Gail and yours truly. The Wonder of You, Dave and Russ Your Loves Keeps Lifting Me, various artistes.
Dame Shirley Bassey.
But Brian and Lou had a surprise in store. Instead of the music for Something Tells Me', Brian announced that there was to be a celebrity guest appearance by Dame Shirley Bassey. The lights were turned on to the curtains across the entrance at the back of the room, which then opened to reveal the amazing apparition that was Dame Shirley Bassey, alias Louis Raschke in drag. To rapturous applause, Dame Shirley made her way on to the stage and gave a rendition of 'Gold Finger' that the Dame herself would be proud of, if somewhat of a more comical version. The audience and singers alike loved it.
Follow that!
My partner in crime, Gail.
I thoroughly enjoyed singing with Gail and was very glad that I had performed a duet. I know that if I hadn't, I would've regretted it.
The evening ended with a spirited rendition of 'You Keep Liftin Me', performed by the Golden Girls, some of the duet singers, including myself, and two brave volunteers, Sarah and Ellen.
It was another fun and enjoyable day and I can't wait to find out what the theme for next year will be. Thank you so much Brian and Lou, not forgetting Tom, Eddie and of course Louis, for all your hard work. It's much appreciated.
Finally, I wouldn't be me if I didn't include the video of Gail and me singing, 'To Sir with Love'. (apologies for the quality).
Photographs courtesy of ;-
Woapa
Diane Iverson
Isabel Johnstone
Videos:- Isabel Johnstone.
Celebrity guest video courtesy of WOAPA
This season we have started doing Downton Abbey tours at Cogges and I'm one of the tour guides. One of the facts I like to tell the visitors is that we have over a thousand years of history to our name. Some people believe that the mounds and bumps in the field beside the walled garden are the remains of a Saxon settlement down by the river, from around 500 AD. In fact, the remains of what is believed to be a Saxon dwelling, were found under the floor of the kitchen of the Manor House during excavations a number of years ago.
But the first recorded land owner of Cogges was a Norman knight by the name of Wadard who is depicted on the Bayeux tapestry and mentioned in the 1086 Doomsday book.
Imagine then how many memories there must be about this lovely location.
Elizabeth's original comment.
Unfortunately, many of these memories have been lost in the midst of time. But we at Cogges are anxious to make and preserve as many memories as we can. Many visitor attractions have a visitors' book for people to sign and we are no exception. Until recently there was a memory book in the house. The first entry in this memory book is by one of our longest -serving volunteers, Elizabeth.
'I first came to Cogges farm with my father in September 1945. It was, I think, something to do with a Shooting Party, but I don't recall the details as I was 13 years old and more interested in the large walnut trees on the front lawn, hoping I suspect to pick up a few walnuts! Apart from a brief visit in 1952, (my first year as a married woman), when I came with my husband, who worked here for a very short time as a cowman, I had no opportunity to see the farm again until I applied for a position as a House Demonstrator, 25 years ago. It was no longer run by the Mawle so f course, although , as a family, they visited often. Cogges Manor Farm seems to have been a part of my life, it is a beautiful place to visit, and I do hope our visitors will keep very fond memories of their time spent here.' Volunteer cook, Elizabeth.
What a wonderful memory. An elderly visitor, another Elizabeth, a lady 88 years young, also wrote:- 'Brought back many happy memories of my childhood days, especially in the kitchen and back kitchen.' Elizabeth, 88 years old, 27th September 2014.
Olivia Nichols.
But not all our visitors are older people. We have had some lovely comments written by children, some even accompanied by pictures. Children see a side to Cogges that is quite different to what adults see. But their comments are just as valid as those of the adults and show that, this is a place that can be enjoyed and appreciated, by young and old.
Neil, with the Memory Tree.
This year we have come up with a novel idea. Instead of a book, we are going to have a Memory Tree. Neil Cap, a talented sculptor and one of our volunteers, has been working hard and has produced a wonderful wooden tree sculpture. The idea is that the visitors can write a memory or comment on a luggage label, which they then hang from one of the branches of the tree. To launch the tree, some of our volunteers recently made a start by adding their own special memories to the tree.
One of the aims of the Cogges Heritage Trust, is to preserve the house and grounds for future generations. By writing our memories, we will be adding a 'voice' to Cogges. This will enable future generations to hear as well as see, what it was like to visit Cogges in the 21st century.
Memory Tree.
The tree will be situated in the back kitchen of the house and we hope to encourage visitors to write a comment about their visit. We also hope that our regular visitors will be inspired to add their own special memory; either past or present.
Cogges isn't just a place, it has a life and vibrancy of its own. A tree is a living, breathing thing and somehow having a memory tree seems quite a fitting way to help record and celebrate the wonderful place we all love; Cogges Manor Farm.
A few years ago my life consisted of going to work and not much else. As I've already admitted in one of my early blogs, I was a bit of a couch potato. But how things have changed. Here is a peek into what my diary entry for the week commencing the 27th July 2015 would look like. If I kept a diary that is.
Monday:- I went to the gym, not something I ever thought I'd hear myself say, then fed the cats at Cogges in the afternoon as usual. Nothing too different there.
The kitchen at Cogges, dressed as Yew Tree Farm.
Tuesday:-I was due to take a group of Irish visitors on a Downton Abbey tour of Cogges. They were due to arrive at about 12.15pm. As is my wont, I was spending the morning writing and checking Facebook. At 10.45am my mobile rang. I could see that it was Colin, the Director of Cogges. Convinced that he was phoning to say that the tour group had cancelled, I answered the phone. Boy was I mistaken. The tour group weren't cancelling, they'd turned up one and a half hours early and Colin wanted to know how quickly I could get there.
On that particular day, the art department for a certain ITV drama, were on site setting up for filming that was to take place the next day. One of them, Linda, saw me in my costume and said that it was perfect and that I really looked the part. Praise indeed and made all the hassle I'd gone through to put together the costume worth it.
Me bagging fudge.
Wednesday:- I was very excited as I was being allowed to be on site while the filming was taking place. I arrived at 1pm to be told that the filming wouldn't be taking place until 2.30 as the filming in Bampton was running late due to adverse weather conditions. While I was waiting I busied myself in the kitchen bagging up some homemade fudge that some of the volunteers had made. Eventually around 4pm the actors/actress arrived and filming began. I spent the next couple of hours chasing chickens and then trying to make sure that they stayed in shot. Not an easy task. But at least I got the chance to speak to Sophie McShera who plays Daisy, and rectify an embarrassing conversation I'd had with her on a previous visit. For those who don't know what I'm talking about check out this blog.
http://ow.ly/QhYvU
The filming finished around 8 and it was very sad as this is the last time that filming for this programme will be taking place at Cogges. As I reflected on this, I realised that despite living only about 10 miles from Bampton, I'd never watched any of the filming taking place there.
Tom Branson with Lady Mary at Yew Tree Farm
Thursday:- I jumped in the car and set off for Bampton. Filming was taking place in the area in front of the church and I watched as Lady Edith drove by in an old fashioned car, with Tom Branson in the front passenger seat. Someone had left a white Fiesta parked in shot, so another old fashioned car was placed in front of it to make sure that it wasn't seen in the shot. I was surrounded by a group of American tourists. At one point Allan Leech, who plays Branson, came over and asked us where we were from. I piped up and said that I was from Yew Tree Farm. He looked confused until I explained that I was one of the volunteers at Cogges. He laughed, but was called away before he could say anything else.
David Cameron at the Magna Carta reception
Friday:- Just a normal day? Nope. I had been invited to be a VIP guest at a celebration of the 800th anniversary of the signing of the Magna Carta hosted by Experience Oxfordshire. I arrived at 12.30 for a lunch which was followed by speeches, one of which was to be made by a special guest speaker. This turned out to be the Prime Minister, David Cameron. After the reception because of horrendous weather conditions, my hubby and I endured a nightmare journey up to Manchester to visit the family. But it was worth it.
Saturday:- I walked beside my grandson as he took his first donkey ride. The highlight of my week.
So that was my week. It was very hectic but certainly beats my previous existence as a couch potato and I wouldn't change a thing. Well, perhaps next time I'd ask Allan Leech for his autograph and perhaps have my photograph taken with him.
We all have dreams. some bigger than others. We also know that sometimes it can be hard to hold on to that dream, especially when it looks like it is an impossible one. I've recently been going through a time of doubting my ability as a writer and this has stopped me from actually sitting down to work on the book I dream of writing. If anyone needs a "kick up the butt," it's me.
I recently downloaded a link to a strategy guide published by the Huffington Post. It's a guide aimed at teaching you how to get your writing published on theirs and other websites. I found it very interesting, but didn't feel that my writing fit the criteria that they are looking for. For one thing, they state that your writing must not be personal and mine definitely is. I also feel that I'm "not quite ready yet." But I decided to bookmark the article for the future.
You can imagine then, how surprised and amused I was, when the next day I received an email from someone called Jon Morrow, giving me a "friendly kick up the butt." He went on at length challenging how many such articles I'd read over the years on the same subject and asked how many excuses I'd come up with not to do anything about it. This did hit a nerve with me. He then went on to say that the next day he would tell me a story to help inspire me and perhaps give me another friendly "kick up the butt" or two.
Sure enough, the next day I received another email from him, although I'm pretty sure it's an automated email sent to anyone who downloads the article and doesn't follow through. But Jon Morrow, is a pretty inspirational guy. He has Muscular Dystrophy and is in a wheelchair. He's a prolific and successful writer and editor. Because of his condition he uses software that allows him to dictate his work onto his computer. He has an incredible enthusiasm for writing which I must say, I found to be pretty infectious.
Unfortunately, it wasn't really enough to make me want to log on and start writing, sorry Jon.
I recently finished my latest online course and now have time on my hands. This morning I decided to put away the books I've been using for the Greek and Roman Mythology course I've just completed. While tidying up my desk, I came across the Christmas present my eldest son gave me last year. He'd arranged for some of my blogs to be made into a book titled, "Sunshine After the Rain", which anyone who follows my blogs will know, is my logo. It was such a thoughtful present and I was both emotional and speechless when I opened the present and saw what it contained.
As I looked through the book, I read the foreword that he'd included in the front of it. Once more I was reduced to tears. But I think that I might have found my "kick up the butt." As I read the words, it reminded me of why I'd started writing in the first place and, knowing how he feels about what I've embarked on, has given me a renewed determination to keep trying.
I'm not going to say anymore here. Instead I'm going to share the foreword with you. Perhaps then you'll see for yourself why these words might have had more of an effect on me than the words of a stranger.
Foreword
When I first heard my
Mum was planning to write a blog I must admit my reaction was one of
patronising bemusement – Mum using the inter-web?! Nevertheless, not wanting to
discourage her I gave supporting noises along the lines of “oh that’s interesting”
and “well good luck with that”, not thinking much more of it.
More fool me! It soon
became clear after further conversations how serious she was and how this was
an important part of her ambitions to become a fully- fledged writer. And as
each phone call became punctuated with ever-increasing website views, followers
“likes” and shares, it was obvious I was wrong about to ever underestimate her
drive and determination to make this succeed. It has also been a privilege to
watch her confidence and technical abilities as a writer to grow with each new
entry, with each one full of honesty, wit, enthusiasm and love, - in other words,
all Mum.
Not that I should have
been surprised at all. If all the words that could be used to describe Mum,
(apart from mad, bonkers and variants thereof), the most appropriate is ‘resilient’.
She has been through so much and come out the other side stronger and more
determined than I have ever known her. It is this trait that has, not only
helped her, but also myself, my brother and my Dad, keep going, even through
the darkest times.
This book is not just
meant to be a present but, both a reminder of what mum has already achieved and
as a symbol of what is to come. I also hope it help inspires her to continue on
and achieve her goals.
Callum Johnstone
December 2014.
See what I mean? Wouldn't you be inspired if someone had this much faith in you?
For any writers out there who might be interested in reading the Huffington Post article, here is the link to the article:-
One 'Worry is a down payment on a problem you may never have.' Joyce Meyer.
A couple of months ago a routine visit to the dentist resulted in me being referred to the hospital. On a previous visit the dentist had told me that I had something called Leucoplakia, which is like an area of dry skin on the tongue. She told me that it was nothing to worry about and not to google it. Reassured by her, I didn't. But when, on this occasion she said that she wanted a 'second opinion', I decided that I needed to know what I might be facing.
Big Mistake.
The information I found said that Leucoplakia is usually found in heavy smokers, or in people with rough teeth or dentures, and in these cases is completely harmless. I don't fall into any of these categories. It also said that it can be a sign of oral cancer. That's when I started to worry. It wasn't so much the thought of having cancer that worried me. After all, a cancer diagnosis these days isn't the automatic death sentence it used to be. No, it was the thought of having oral cancer that scared me, not the best place to have it for someone who loves talking and singing as much as I do.
But one of the advantages of growing older and having been through a lot is, I've come to realise the quote at the beginning of this blog is true. Worrying about something won't change anything, but it will stop you from enjoying days, weeks or even months that you'll never get back. I've said this many times, but life is short and it's important to make the most of every day.
So I made the decision to try not to let it stop me enjoying life. I won't pretend that I managed it 100% of the time, but on the whole I was able to do it. I even managed to go on holiday and not think about at all.
I've been to the hospital and had it checked out and thankfully I got the all clear. I don't even have Leucoplakia, but something called a 'geographic tongue'. The doctor was able to reassure me that it is completely harmless, and not just from a medical point of view, as he has the same condition.
If it had been cancer, I would have dealt with it. But by choosing not to worry, I've saved myself a lot of sleepless nights and anxiety filled days. As my hubby said, as we get older the more chance there is of something going wrong. So why waste precious time worrying about it. After all, it might never happen.
For anyone is wondering what a geographic tongue is, here is a link to a website about it:-
http://ow.ly/Pnn2K
Worry does not photo courtesy of:- http://ow.ly/Pk0GF
Wake up every morning photo courtesy of:- http://ow.ly/Pnmbu
I love looking at all the photos and funny sayings that people share on Facebook and Twitter. I've even been known to pinch a few and share them myself; well quite a lot if I'm honest. The one on the left, of someone doing a sky dive, made me laugh as I'm considering doing one next year for a 'significant birthday.' If this is a sign of a 'mid life crisis,' then I've been having one for a few years now. How else to explain my penchant for going paragliding and taking part in flashmobs at my time of life? But if I am, it's certainly fun and I can thoroughly recommend it.
Another thing that I'm now contemplating doing, is getting a tattoo. Another mid life crisis moment, right? Wrong. Having a tattoo is not something I've ever considered before. I thought that I was being very daring having my ears pierced, not once, but twice. But recently I read an article that someone shared on Facebook about a project that was set up in 2013, called The Semi Colon Project. This is a project that has been set up to support people suffering from depression, anxiety or any other form of mental illness.
But why the semi colon? Well to quote the article,
A semicolon represents a sentence the author could have ended, but chose not to. That author is you and the sentence is your life.
Having suffered with clinical depression, not only do I welcome the news that such a project has been set up, I also think the quote is very true and something to be celebrated. Although I personally never got to the point where I tried to end my life, I have known what it's like to feel that life isn't worth living. I've woken up dreading the day, let alone the weeks and months ahead; it's like being surrounded by a cloak of despair that prevents you from seeing anything good or positive in living. I was fortunate in that I had a very supportive husband and two lovely little boys who needed me and this, along with the help of a wonderful counsellor, helped me to fight my way out from under this cloak, or cloud of depression.
But not everyone is as fortunate. Often even the people who love them struggle to understand. But if they've never experienced it for themselves, you can see why they struggle. That's one of many reasons why I think it's so great that this project has been set up.
By writing a semicolon on your wrist, you are making a promise to yourself that it is OK to reach out and seek for help… stand up for you or anyone you know who has depression, anxiety, has self harmed or has contemplated suicide and help our peers, our friends and our family know that we speak up for them and that we stand up against Mental Health and the stigma that’s attached to it.
This is another quote from the article. At the moment I am fortunate enough not to need to make this promise to myself. But anyone who has, or has had a mental illness knows, there's no guarantee that it won't happen again. I'm thinking of getting a semi colon tattoo as a reminder to myself of how lucky I am. I'm still working on the book that is my life and hopefully the final chapter is a still a long way off. I certainly have many more adventures that I want to be included in it.
So no, getting a tattoo wouldn't for me be another 'mid life crisis.' It would be a mark of celebration that I didn't end the sentence; a sign that I chose to go on and continue writing the chapters.
One
