tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9268513910809702402023-11-16T06:16:16.595+00:00Janice in CaunesSometimes these ponderings will be from Caunes, and sometimes from Yorkshire.Janicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05449652020751269674noreply@blogger.comBlogger178125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-926851391080970240.post-83628809241886489822017-07-17T10:18:00.001+01:002017-07-17T10:18:37.190+01:00Aussies in Caunes<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">After a great Yorkshire week, and a few days exploring London on their own, cousin Linda, and her cousin Helen, arrived in Toulouse.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We had arrived back in Caunes just a couple of days before hand, so had rushed around getting the pool ready, airing rooms and filling the fridge. Luckily our earlier spring visit, when we had spent 2 solid weeks weeding, had paid off, and the garden looked just about presentable.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We did all the things we always do with visitors to Caunes including the tour of the Abbey, which we discovered will not be hosting open air Vendredis Classiques this year. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It seems that the roaring success of La Cantine du Cure just beyond the Abbey walls means that the classical concerts could not compete with the noise. I am delighted the Cantine is successful. It is packed most nights, attracts the young, and les Caunois, which is excellent as we were starting to feel that many of our favourite eating and drinking haunts were being taken over by people like us...the English speaking residents of the village and tourists. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">However, it is a little sad that the abbey's beautiful outside space will not be used for the regular Friday night summer concerts. Instead they will take place inside the Church, which has outrageously uncomfortable pews, clearly designed to force you onto your knees. I'm not sure I will be able to force myself to attend many of what will be fabulous concerts.....even with the help of some serious cushions.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Breakfast in the bar</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We enjoyed coffee in the bar, although French coffee was a bit strong for Helen, and they were impressed by the (we believe) world famous pain aux raisins, sold at our boulangerie. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Linda had previously devoured all the Kate Mosse books so we visited La Cite to show them the sights they had read about.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It did rain while they were in Europe...but only for about an hour !</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We had to shelter in the Church from the wind and rain, which only lasted a short time, but it proved to them that European weather is not always just like an Australian summer. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Helen and Linda at St Pere de Rodes</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />We thought it would be amusing to extend their planned European tour of England and France to include Spain. With Australia being so far from anywhere else, they were amused that we could be in Spain in 90 minutes, and that no passports had to be shown. Of course, if they return in a couple of years time, post Brexit, who knows what they will find.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We took them to one of our favourite 'just across the border' spots......St. Pere de Rodes. With clear blue skies and views to die for, lunch and a wander around the restored monastery, I think you could say we all enjoyed ourselves.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Visiting vide greniers was important, as the cousins had followed my various posts, through blogging and on facebook. I managed to make a few purchases while they were with us, although I think they, like Mark, wonder where on earth I am going to find to put all the treasures I manage to find each week.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not sure what I was buying here.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Meeting up with relatives can often have its stresses and strains but being with Linda and Helen for 2 of their 3 week European trip was just perfect. We talked and talked for hours. It was as if we had known each other all our lives.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sitting on the terrace, on Mike's bench, chatting...again.<br />Mike, my dad, was Linda's mum's first cousin, and they did not know each other existed. We are making up for that !</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />We shared family stories, we learned new things about the shared elements of our family. Our shared great grandparents life stories, as much as we know, has been combed over. Why my bigamist grandfather never spoke of his siblings or his war experiences and why Linda's grandfather wouldn't speak of his siblings or his life back in England, or his war experiences, we will probably never know.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">There is no doubt that Linda and I share a history, even if it is one that , as for now, remains mostly hidden. Our grandfathers were brothers....so we, are family.</span>Janicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05449652020751269674noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-926851391080970240.post-28767840683693758582017-07-06T13:22:00.000+01:002017-07-06T13:22:46.987+01:00First, the Aussies came to Yorkshire.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It is over a year since I blogged. I felt that my ramblings from England, and those from the Minervois had become tired and I seemed to be repeating myself as the predictable seasonal rhythms in both places continued.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I'm not sure whether dipping my toe back into the blogging pool will be the start of another long term commitment.......but I'm going to see how things develop.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Since last year, our UK base has moved from Hebden Bridge. On return from France last Autumn, we put the house on the market and sold it within days. We quickly found a new UK home, just 20 miles away, on the outskirts of Huddersfield, much closer to all of our grandchildren. We moved into the new house in February, and love it. We see the children more often, the house itself suits us perfectly and I love the garden, and the views across the Colne Valley.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The view from our new garden across the viaduct in Milnsbridge</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I am now back in Caunes, and our summer activities are in full swing. There seems to be so much going on. The usual concerts, fetes, repas, vide greniers, cafe des langues meetings, gardening, walking, swimming, drinking coffee/wine with friends and planning for the vists from friends, children and grandchildren are filling our days.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Loving being back in Caunes</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So, what is different ? Probably not too much, but having one of my Australian cousins, and her cousin visit us in Yorkshire and here in France has made me look at things a little differently.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It was good to see both our homes, through their eyes. It has confirmed to me how lucky we are to have such a lovely balance in our lives, and maybe it has made me feel more grateful for what we have.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mark and I always ready to enjoy good food, wine and company.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Our Aussies arrived in Yorkshire on their first ever trip to Europe. Huddersfield is probably not the first port of call for Australian tourists.....but they loved it.</span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx1irMjUECqEGCZg9ZNvrX00ZN6cj49vxy4qRLZFwttFScxPD3HGiRc3T6Uk8Ch-fFbgKrL1C24mFvpOKpf7ExKbs7NGC3y4kvlZK41YwESZMAIO1z4vYChcddf0grsfdD08qs0IwTSxbu/s1600/IMG_6328+%2528Edited%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx1irMjUECqEGCZg9ZNvrX00ZN6cj49vxy4qRLZFwttFScxPD3HGiRc3T6Uk8Ch-fFbgKrL1C24mFvpOKpf7ExKbs7NGC3y4kvlZK41YwESZMAIO1z4vYChcddf0grsfdD08qs0IwTSxbu/s400/IMG_6328+%2528Edited%2529.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Helen and Linda in Haworth</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The weather was kind, in fact it was incredibly , unusually kind. The sun shone, the skies were blue and Yorkshire was at its incredible best.</span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnDhWq95GzrUUgaccYRmqRsF0riMMVEZkoq4KOwBylZ5ZtL3z8_TkylznlZuMdxvcfE2Rt5TqR2DtevojlfbrOjJP6xPr0beUwGtW2b5cqO5LJyBsUHVKrTO4tQBuxcYlWdN7vOQfNDsWO/s1600/IMG_6355+%2528Edited%2529+%25283%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1156" data-original-width="1600" height="288" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnDhWq95GzrUUgaccYRmqRsF0riMMVEZkoq4KOwBylZ5ZtL3z8_TkylznlZuMdxvcfE2Rt5TqR2DtevojlfbrOjJP6xPr0beUwGtW2b5cqO5LJyBsUHVKrTO4tQBuxcYlWdN7vOQfNDsWO/s400/IMG_6355+%2528Edited%2529+%25283%2529.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Aussies at Bolton Abbey</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">They visited Haworth, Bolton Abbey, Hebden Bridge, Huddersfield and York. We spent a day in Liverpool, and they joined us for a family party as Huddersfield Town won a play-off final and entered the premier division. ( This was improved for them by the fact that an Aussie player was part of the team ) </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEKSE5Oa7F4X0w3Iwc6xKkPaGGwZ5o05I3Jlv8rIYuTlQrFlVoX7U9jri99sRwVyfgltfqZDofLtmymycDcDabjxzwjc6faOaVxV7Z1CSVoZOY4du_QcdmdKFtbT5pD6NXjiFi7lb205rh/s1600/IMG_6370+%2528Edited%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="961" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEKSE5Oa7F4X0w3Iwc6xKkPaGGwZ5o05I3Jlv8rIYuTlQrFlVoX7U9jri99sRwVyfgltfqZDofLtmymycDcDabjxzwjc6faOaVxV7Z1CSVoZOY4du_QcdmdKFtbT5pD6NXjiFi7lb205rh/s400/IMG_6370+%2528Edited%2529.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Clark, who actually went to Wembley to see the great victory, while some of us stayed home to watch on TV.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />They came with us to the welcome the team back to Huddersfield reception and cheered and shouted along with the rest of us. They were even interviewed on radio one, as they enthused about the team and the town !</span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKkR2qCpAVKg2KqgX4TFpvknDuzZbpW4BruOH6JudqvyfJrfMrrQjzd0Tz3tr0DsN1K7ei8HJWU3GmrYdUzAfmubvrQdrfL4sfYA2dUAf5Trn8_C7SH-ph60MhreNFutt39thRiy-js-Bq/s1600/IMG_6487+%2528Edited%2529.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="611" data-original-width="750" height="325" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKkR2qCpAVKg2KqgX4TFpvknDuzZbpW4BruOH6JudqvyfJrfMrrQjzd0Tz3tr0DsN1K7ei8HJWU3GmrYdUzAfmubvrQdrfL4sfYA2dUAf5Trn8_C7SH-ph60MhreNFutt39thRiy-js-Bq/s400/IMG_6487+%2528Edited%2529.PNG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The homecoming reception, with Liam and Izzie.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">They loved it all...and particularly loved our postman. They were worried that he wasn't wearing long sleeves and a hat in the blazing sunshine. I guess that is something our posties dont usually worry about.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr7SSU273JkOQmOOHfh3MyNd-o_XujekQoepX17U7mKz0Y5RT2VxiHsD9jZg1hkO2t7gL_gh9TQ18S0ZtWn9MHcmLCWHZRIUZEguigcZY335dbYCsNrUZRe5GaI_6cT69w1ilowgswrV49/s1600/IMG_6364.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr7SSU273JkOQmOOHfh3MyNd-o_XujekQoepX17U7mKz0Y5RT2VxiHsD9jZg1hkO2t7gL_gh9TQ18S0ZtWn9MHcmLCWHZRIUZEguigcZY335dbYCsNrUZRe5GaI_6cT69w1ilowgswrV49/s400/IMG_6364.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">He was very hot.....but was happy to pose for his Aussie fans.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Linda ( my cousin ) and Helen ( her cousin ) left us to spend a few days in London, while we set off for France and Caunes. Their London experience was also excellent....getting into Lords free, as it was Ladies day, crossing the Abbey Road zebra crossing, tea at the Ritz, and walking the streets of London for hours and hours. They loved it all. The perfect guests, and the perfect tourists, wallowing in all their new experiences.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE8CL-KIWKRKwMyhHdnrii_-X3Ig5WJkvBx8cfGFnTXanfCcnH0I45pRpIeWs92bn7_zrhrjZgrQr4mblgT8Fd-3RSx0mwWUAr-8D5qOis3qw19moh_DTf7K7W-O4eSSB0sM1vMqXB-_Y1/s1600/IMG_6321+%25283%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE8CL-KIWKRKwMyhHdnrii_-X3Ig5WJkvBx8cfGFnTXanfCcnH0I45pRpIeWs92bn7_zrhrjZgrQr4mblgT8Fd-3RSx0mwWUAr-8D5qOis3qw19moh_DTf7K7W-O4eSSB0sM1vMqXB-_Y1/s400/IMG_6321+%25283%2529.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My wonderful Aussie cousins enjoying a glass of wine....in Yorkshire.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">( Part two, to follow...... when the Aussies came to Caunes. )</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>Janicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05449652020751269674noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-926851391080970240.post-64185874055218888262016-06-27T14:50:00.001+01:002016-06-27T14:50:32.041+01:00The 40 year old rubber plantI inherited a small rubber plant from a cousin about 10 years ago. It was in a strange 60s/70s pot that looked vaguely familiar, but I gave it no real thought, and just started caring, in my haphazard way, for my new plant.<div><br></div><div>A few months after it came into my possession, I was looking through some old photos and found one showing the plant, in its 60s/70s pot, in my parents' front room.</div><div><br></div><div>It seemed that my cousin had " inherited" the rubber plant from my mother.... who died over 30 years ago.</div><div><br></div><div>It was pot bound, still in its original pot, and had clearly belonged to my mother.</div><div><br></div><div>Suddenly this plant took on greater significance. It's survival became paramount ! I could no longer fail to water it. I had to organise a neighbour to look after it if I went away. I had to re pot it..... and actually look after it. I have done that for 10 years. </div><div><br></div><div>Earlier this year I decided the responsibility of keeping mum's plant alive was too much. No one else in the family was prepared to take on the responsibility. So, I decided.... This plant need to have children of its own.</div><div><br></div><div>It had grown huge, it reached the ceiling. So, having read various articles about taking cuttings, I took 5 cuttings.</div><div><br></div><div>The mother plant became more manageable and I kept my fingers crossed that at least one of the children would survive.</div><div><br></div><div>I potted one of the cuttings in my mother's original 60s/70s pot.</div><div><br></div><div>Just before I came to France this year, I gave one thriving baby plant to my step daughter in law, Sarah Jane, one to Mark's ex wife, Carole, one was promised to daughter Jess, and one to step daughter Jodie. </div><div><br></div><div>I have brought the child plant potted in the original pot to France.</div><div> </div><div>It is thriving. It has 4 new leaves, and clearly loves the warmth and the sunshine of Caunes Minervois.</div><div><br></div><div>So... a neighbour is caring for mum's original plant while I'm away, and I am the proud owner of a second generation/ back in the original pot/ child of my mother's plant . </div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvguYMP35O_1riE2tkzl9D0nZ_UD-0qmjrr8KRiSap8PocDfi7O2cQ3UWocxGtzilzLIvar8rhpVk_JmwAZTVKTHvw3gdOD0Dt4lupu9Lg2qtliS5p9LiHirWiOLngCnhGbl4oFMmBBA5P/s640/blogger-image--353648473.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvguYMP35O_1riE2tkzl9D0nZ_UD-0qmjrr8KRiSap8PocDfi7O2cQ3UWocxGtzilzLIvar8rhpVk_JmwAZTVKTHvw3gdOD0Dt4lupu9Lg2qtliS5p9LiHirWiOLngCnhGbl4oFMmBBA5P/s640/blogger-image--353648473.jpg"></a></div>Janicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05449652020751269674noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-926851391080970240.post-14871948845958342732016-04-26T13:36:00.001+01:002016-04-26T13:36:41.441+01:00From Kinsale to Skibbereen<div class="MsoNormal">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdt2Txm3CPQ_E8IlvUZyA67Iv4UTatUuPHMSA5ppWneAYOkW7PPbqALskUJ5merpTqFtamgDSBUgsmzmNq55VYlULBFCQkd50FaR_ZBakcC_9prpDnsjo8oZ83k97LW9LFu1E7Mbb1IOpP/s1600/P1070805.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdt2Txm3CPQ_E8IlvUZyA67Iv4UTatUuPHMSA5ppWneAYOkW7PPbqALskUJ5merpTqFtamgDSBUgsmzmNq55VYlULBFCQkd50FaR_ZBakcC_9prpDnsjo8oZ83k97LW9LFu1E7Mbb1IOpP/s400/P1070805.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I recently
spent a few days in County Cork and Tipperary, as a planned trip to see my
brother and his family. However, as often happens with plans.....things didn’t
quite work out as we thought. My brother is a film editor and goes where the
work takes him. It took him to Amsterdam for the week we had planned our Irish
trip.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">We decided
to go anyway, see my sister-in-law and my 2 nephews, and have a couple of days
just wandering around, knowing how enjoyable such wandering can be in Ireland.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Seeing the
family...even without my lovely brother, was great. It is 4 years since we have
seen each other, and surprise surprise....the nephews have grown up ! 21 year old Michael has turned into a
gorgeous, gentle, interesting young man, about to move to Amsterdam ( where he
was born), with his delightful girlfriend Kaylee, for some
adventures. 13 year old Thomas has become a polite, sensible, hard working,
musically talented teenager. It was lovely to spend some time with them.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMBeY2OyZ8gpLBeEqkLVlG9_DsywjpIBmJGMsgP0mnINA1xp9c0aVBerm-_Gad1P66Q0GYfJ_hQsdhDHDHkhvRgkyPERev-aQID4NWdtAASD8VryjGMe3ae3MzHiyKb-D6LDEsq-EfmmcV/s1600/FullSizeRender+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMBeY2OyZ8gpLBeEqkLVlG9_DsywjpIBmJGMsgP0mnINA1xp9c0aVBerm-_Gad1P66Q0GYfJ_hQsdhDHDHkhvRgkyPERev-aQID4NWdtAASD8VryjGMe3ae3MzHiyKb-D6LDEsq-EfmmcV/s320/FullSizeRender+%25281%2529.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">We always
used to joke about how sitting around sister-in-law Catherine’s kitchen table involved
a never ending pot of tea and a revolving kitchen door, through which various
brothers/sisters/cousin/neighbours would stream.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTEM4unnDysFkTyg4Sj81j-fjVQqJY_MqHj4qhrGGKZQa7AN66LULdVxOG9cQgMBn9KBqmU1UUxVEM6YYQfrcgq0Z8s_4m-uTBVH42CU_0e2rQywXyDr0hjkqHuh7uBBY2DaFJgMiWpsjF/s1600/FullSizeRender.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="219" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTEM4unnDysFkTyg4Sj81j-fjVQqJY_MqHj4qhrGGKZQa7AN66LULdVxOG9cQgMBn9KBqmU1UUxVEM6YYQfrcgq0Z8s_4m-uTBVH42CU_0e2rQywXyDr0hjkqHuh7uBBY2DaFJgMiWpsjF/s320/FullSizeRender.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">No sooner
had Mark and I sat down at the kitchen table, with Catherine and the boys and
Michael’s girlfriend, that Catherine’s
eldest brother arrived. It was good to see that despite us not being visitors
for over 4 years, the open door policy continues.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Anyway,
after spending time with family, we wandered off on our own.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">We followed
the Wild Atlantic route from Kinsale to Skibbereen. It was stunning. <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The colours
of Kinsale will live with me for years. The early morning sunlight made
everything glisten. It was one of those mornings when somethings seems almost
too bright to look at.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> We found a lovely cafe for breakfast, drank some
fabulous coffee and wandered on.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">We had to
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> fabulous views across bays,</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> incredible bird
sightings</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> and walks along various beaches.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> We were reminded how long journeys
in Ireland take.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> Winding narrow roads, driving behind slow farm vehicles, and
stopping frequently to take photos...and just to look, takes its time.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Skibbereen
was our target, and we arrived in time for lunch. It was a truly fascinating
town.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">By the mid
1800s, Skibbereen was quite densely populated, with about 400 people to the
square mile. The potato was the staple diet for more than half the population
of Ireland, particularly the poor. Apparently, with the addition of buttermilk
or fish, it provided all the requirements for a healthy diet, although to do
this, it required a man to eat up to 14lbs of potatoes a day !<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Anyway....when
the potato blight ( phytophthora infestans ) hit.....people died. It was a
fungal infection which arrived from north America in the autumn of 1845. It
spread rapidly and by 1846 there was a 90% loss of the potato harvest in the
Skibbereen area.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">In the cold winter
of 1846 many thousands died of starvation, some in the totally inadequate work
houses, but many, just on the sides of the roads, or hidden away in their tiny
mud cottages. There were a few public works schemes that were supposed to
provide work, and therefore money, for the poor. Thousands involved in the schemes
died as they were so malnourished and sick
that they were unable to earn enough to stay alive. <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">By 1847,
Skibbereen was being referred to as the centre of the famine.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Disease was rife, “famine fever” covered a
range of diseases, including typhus, relapsing fever or yellow fever,
dysentery, and what became a pandemic of cholera in 1848-9. No one knows how
many died. Bodies were piled into mass graves, relatives too weak to bury,
mourn or to organise funeral ceremonies, died themselves, and were added to the
piles of bodies.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The
population of the area covered by the Skibbereen Union fell by 37,000 between
the census years 1841 and 1851.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr_eD8NFpWXbrjMUofmoXxthu2xNLAa_zyRPHBXNbW4RKBNYhkPqdDUUyxmOvtCKkEiAA85qFAsHJYbZFXhmbTpZ1PT4zPXp4oFQGt4PIDYKiWdeDiDO2XmWWQx72wkzNuerAdZ_wVxt5t/s1600/FullSizeRender+%25285%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr_eD8NFpWXbrjMUofmoXxthu2xNLAa_zyRPHBXNbW4RKBNYhkPqdDUUyxmOvtCKkEiAA85qFAsHJYbZFXhmbTpZ1PT4zPXp4oFQGt4PIDYKiWdeDiDO2XmWWQx72wkzNuerAdZ_wVxt5t/s640/FullSizeRender+%25285%2529.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">It is
thought that at least a million people died in those few years, and within 10
years another 2 million had emigrated. Few from Skibbereen were able to flee
though. People in the poorer areas did not have the means to emigrate.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Many of those who were able to escape went to
America, but first had to leave Ireland to get to England. Thousands flocked to
Liverpool, where most of the trans Atlantic crossings began. The Illustrated London News reported that the treatment of the Irish
by Liverpool parish officers was worse than that given to cattle. It is
estimated that 100,000 Irish famine migrants died in Britain.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">At one
stage, famine emigrants who were destitute on arrival in England were classed
as vagrants and deported back to Ireland.
Some parishes offered rewards for information leading to the discovery
of” illegal immigrants”. Nothing changes !<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">My great
great grandparents, William and Mary Whelan, appear on the 1851 census, in
Liverpool. Their birthplace is listed as “ Ireland”, and their eldest child was
born in Ireland in the mid 1840s. I don’t know where in Ireland they came from,
but they were clearly part of the movement, escaping the famine. Their son, my
great grandfather, was born in Birkenhead. His son, was my grandfather, for those of you that know a bit about my family....the bigamist grandfather. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Our bit of the Whelan family had
escaped, and survived. Due to the fact that William and Mary Whelan survived, our family has spread to England, Australia and New Zealand..... and maybe Michael will re settle in Holland, who knows ? Jessie, my daughter, lives in Liverpool, not far from where William and Mary settled and where my grandfather spent part of his youth.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Our trip to
Ireland was wonderful. We caught up with family, we visited beautiful places,
but the horror of what happened there, not so very long ago was haunting.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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Janicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05449652020751269674noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-926851391080970240.post-24455903452926034422016-02-02T18:36:00.002+00:002016-02-02T18:56:37.538+00:0045 years between trips<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Janice and Mark, South Africa, 2016</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">As a child, one of our family rituals at Christmas, was opening the crate of South African peaches my great aunt Muriel sent us each year. Muriel had emigrated to South Africa after the war, and always sent the peaches to arrive just as we were settling into our British winter. The smell as well disturbed the straw in which the peaches were packed still lives with me today. The taste is also a memory that I can conjure up ......it was beautiful.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAm9bzeB5oJvjvOI7NH0a6NdLx92UFP33tfo5fhg6ZirqMwOpk9_b-b-ui-cE-9ZtcDtHUgOZAZ8xClfQeiPvZVo0YV39PaY6KzNbgd-CMdbysjgf1-YzXKsd9ekPjs0ohR2ww98FMqDW_/s1600/FullSizeRender+%252840%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAm9bzeB5oJvjvOI7NH0a6NdLx92UFP33tfo5fhg6ZirqMwOpk9_b-b-ui-cE-9ZtcDtHUgOZAZ8xClfQeiPvZVo0YV39PaY6KzNbgd-CMdbysjgf1-YzXKsd9ekPjs0ohR2ww98FMqDW_/s320/FullSizeRender+%252840%2529.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Do I dare to eat a peach ?"</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Alice, my grandmother, auntie Muriel's sister-in-law, spent her superannuation retirement lump sum ( the first person in our family to receive a work related pension !... Alice was a school dinner lady ) on a 6 month trip to South Africa in 1971.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I remember talking to Alice about her trip. I saw her photos, and enjoyed hearing about her adventures. I was 16 when she went on her trip, and was just becoming aware of some of the political issues that she witnessed when she was there. I don't think Alice had much idea about apartheid, and apart from a few not very pc remarks, her diary of the trip shows little awareness of what was going on at the time.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Alice, South Africa 1971<br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">One of her diary excerpts describes an excursion in Cape Town.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgueHbjtN5bIwp0SDcpEInCfj2icmCjq4WQedTiP5v4-1gkI2EeckFMl2XcjS-eSbN5zb2vXdZPSS4bTS4UKgBTny9cs3EaSHTh-_Pm3l5I6nQ-R6g5TpP-1s33pfxzfey0aVq-gkzMw8yX/s1600/IMG_7741+%25281%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgueHbjtN5bIwp0SDcpEInCfj2icmCjq4WQedTiP5v4-1gkI2EeckFMl2XcjS-eSbN5zb2vXdZPSS4bTS4UKgBTny9cs3EaSHTh-_Pm3l5I6nQ-R6g5TpP-1s33pfxzfey0aVq-gkzMw8yX/s400/IMG_7741+%25281%2529.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Her trip was made on The Edinburgh Castle....note her reference to "natives" unloading luggage. Anyway, she clearly enjoyed her trip around Cape Town and loved the views from Signal Hill.....as I did.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mark at Signal Hill</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Table Mountain, from in front of Signal Hill....just as my grandmother Alice saw it 45 years ago.<br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I still have the photos that Alice took on her trip....with her little Kodak instamatic.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="text-align: center;">It is strange to think of her taking these photos in the Kruger Park, and having her roll of 24 snaps developed. I think she must have been pleased with the way these turned out. </span></span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0CTk7vHnEWwA6n7WKSimMIVGaf3WPOpcV6Jux1OGnjptu3zmcwyTnIACzap0gBF-J0mpv7yLV6V0_-anr2bxU9ZWwdwLpA9fl40jhlYlAMn5SClUbQeAZWk9akK-qQsT1mqA04AhzXXRf/s1600/SA25.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="500" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0CTk7vHnEWwA6n7WKSimMIVGaf3WPOpcV6Jux1OGnjptu3zmcwyTnIACzap0gBF-J0mpv7yLV6V0_-anr2bxU9ZWwdwLpA9fl40jhlYlAMn5SClUbQeAZWk9akK-qQsT1mqA04AhzXXRf/s640/SA25.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Alice's giraffe photo</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7IpE-XQF5KTe_Zujz4W6zldIXscpgIfTo_9sAfCHrt9lk4eR2JZSRUvPaWktfppH5dsqlrIhe8Ngavh4p68t66kb5veGCZoRKWw74U_KPStMCY7lvy-ioXt_G6Qoh3WsdElswbaN0g9YX/s1600/SA29.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="420" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7IpE-XQF5KTe_Zujz4W6zldIXscpgIfTo_9sAfCHrt9lk4eR2JZSRUvPaWktfppH5dsqlrIhe8Ngavh4p68t66kb5veGCZoRKWw74U_KPStMCY7lvy-ioXt_G6Qoh3WsdElswbaN0g9YX/s640/SA29.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Alice's lion photo<br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="text-align: center;">I, of course, took hundreds of photos in Kruger Park. I could check them each day, delete the poor quality ones, and enhance the best ones with some light tweaking or shadow tweaking.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Here are a couple of mine ....similar subjects !</span></span><br />
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Janicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05449652020751269674noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-926851391080970240.post-66581774319995115412016-01-19T15:27:00.001+00:002016-01-19T15:27:26.662+00:00District 6<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Like many people my age, I marched against apartheid. I boycotted Barclays and I wore my Free Mandela T-shirt. I was delighted when 2 students in my tutor group, back in about 1980, spent a lunchtime loading a supermarket trolley with South African tinned goods, and dumped it by the checkout, shouting " Boycott South African goods", as they ran out. This occurred after we had been discussing apartheid in a tutor group session.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Steve Biko .....art work within the Langa township</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So.....how did I not know about District 6 ?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My recent trip to South Africa has been an incredible experience. I'm sure I will be blogging about cricket, flora and fauna, animals and spectacular scenery in the next few weeks. However, today, I want to record some thoughts and images related to the political background to what I have now, personally witnessed. It has been a humbling experience.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"District 6" was the 6th Municipal district of Cape Town, established in 1867. It was a racially mixed suburb of freed slaves, merchants, artisans, labourers and immigrants. It was a vibrant and close knit community where tolerance and freedom were central. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo from the District 6 Museum, showing the area before it was bulldozed flat.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This became more and more undesirable to the apartheid government, so there was a plan to demolish all the buildings in the area and declare it a whites only district.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is what District 6 looks like now......flattened, but empty....the planned white suburb never happened.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Between 1966 and 1982, the entire area was bull dozed. More than 60,000 people were forcibly removed, to areas like the Langa and Nyanga townships.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A scene from Langa, one of the Cape Town townships. The irony of the billboard was particularly haunting.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Incredibly enough, once the place was cleared......no one was prepared to move in. What was a vibrant and thriving community remains a patch of derelict wasteland today. The feeling now is that it should remain as such, as a reminder of the forcible removal of all those people. There is now a museum which is documenting what happened and is a place for those people whose homes were destroyed and lives wrecked, to record their thoughts about what happened.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">District 6 now.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">One of the most haunting museum exhibits I have ever seen is the " namecloth".</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It started as a narrow strip of calico, that ex residents of District 6 were invited to write on, recording something of their District 6 memories. Pens were provided, and hundreds of people started writing their thoughts on the sheet. Some women then had the idea of embroidering over the writing, and the namecloth began. It now measures over a kilometre long, and contains thousands of inscriptions.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Since 1999 women inmates from Pollsmoor Prison have been involved, along with other sewing groups, ensuring that the inscriptions are recorded permanently.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjETUSt0dZ1iAsZyhHzOxHzGWt2tTTW3FapNoI3pwGYa5E-bPIxOYtB84ilffBOMSIBw4GcRduP7HI7F-3HDablQvsr4EWfW4qF5nsNEUrGW2P4e9x2cDvQ7NCjcw4T0WjZJDFlUFrlmY_B/s1600/IMG_7311.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjETUSt0dZ1iAsZyhHzOxHzGWt2tTTW3FapNoI3pwGYa5E-bPIxOYtB84ilffBOMSIBw4GcRduP7HI7F-3HDablQvsr4EWfW4qF5nsNEUrGW2P4e9x2cDvQ7NCjcw4T0WjZJDFlUFrlmY_B/s400/IMG_7311.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"I remember District 6 with fondness.. "</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdW_ddY3QnGmmvsKzH-obBbENLDFqjROOEAILkCM1Pt18TvhV1O0w-s6qkeGSvnyI3W1sGoYhgA0rxMMfbRq1lvewEddJJTtPTstQc8rmilyd_rwsNH6xyE3oZBoPWlrcM7KEAmIi1HHG8/s1600/IMG_7312.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdW_ddY3QnGmmvsKzH-obBbENLDFqjROOEAILkCM1Pt18TvhV1O0w-s6qkeGSvnyI3W1sGoYhgA0rxMMfbRq1lvewEddJJTtPTstQc8rmilyd_rwsNH6xyE3oZBoPWlrcM7KEAmIi1HHG8/s400/IMG_7312.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">" My very best years was in District 6 "</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhywzGs2YrbFCiCA-InJjrddCRoyt4ouVSLD8QKP85jxrPJEC8mgqxprCaYr4jFVIyKtV5dj6gmjeJK3bOlZ8U94yT9wC9zbbMJCzQ4i05IvfN4KXWW6qzOz9zs2irGymOrRNmH7-wFrZCJ/s1600/IMG_7314.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhywzGs2YrbFCiCA-InJjrddCRoyt4ouVSLD8QKP85jxrPJEC8mgqxprCaYr4jFVIyKtV5dj6gmjeJK3bOlZ8U94yT9wC9zbbMJCzQ4i05IvfN4KXWW6qzOz9zs2irGymOrRNmH7-wFrZCJ/s400/IMG_7314.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">" A completed piece to my own personal jigsaw of life"</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"I would like to come back"</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I am still asking myself why I didn't know about all of this ?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Learning about District 6, visiting Langa, and talking to people about the changes, and the slow rate of those changes, since Democracy, has been a very moving and powerful experience. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The beauty of this country, the animals, the birds, the plants, the scenery....the cricket.....have all been seen with us recognising the dreadful history of what people in this country have been through......and it is not over yet. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwj9yF2kb7QA_n-8KXtIhmIzjQSvU-HjCTKLwa0E7Rwb7vgmLedbHpBM3NelvKrJeEpziILqUISxW5myugaS1SDPLYMQL1_SQVPd6WjUyWIRoWlJUZw5foHDky6QreylX2gOmEE4YjIICX/s1600/FullSizeRender+%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwj9yF2kb7QA_n-8KXtIhmIzjQSvU-HjCTKLwa0E7Rwb7vgmLedbHpBM3NelvKrJeEpziILqUISxW5myugaS1SDPLYMQL1_SQVPd6WjUyWIRoWlJUZw5foHDky6QreylX2gOmEE4YjIICX/s640/FullSizeRender+%25282%2529.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A Langa resident, today.......explaining how she burns the fur from sheeps heads, the cheapest meat she can buy.</td></tr>
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<br />Janicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05449652020751269674noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-926851391080970240.post-13207048870999069812015-11-17T10:21:00.000+00:002015-11-17T10:21:59.457+00:00Cake, according to Alice ( and Mary)<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I have just put my Christmas cake in the oven. Usually, I manage to make it during the last week of October, but life has been busy since we got back to Hebden Bridge, and I missed my normal deadline.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_TAwqbpC49J0RKpHpUrTqUJfuHWlQqNZVUbimEZ9zDOrJhsjVmV_CVdhxV7OIlA2b40-5K1rhW3OFnw0-YHzBsztASTHeEYGwwpZTEvBck9zkXJIP9MMT0NPcDJ2AKjomveSl7QC5Hm0k/s1600/1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_TAwqbpC49J0RKpHpUrTqUJfuHWlQqNZVUbimEZ9zDOrJhsjVmV_CVdhxV7OIlA2b40-5K1rhW3OFnw0-YHzBsztASTHeEYGwwpZTEvBck9zkXJIP9MMT0NPcDJ2AKjomveSl7QC5Hm0k/s320/1.jpg" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Alice, one of the Overgate Hospice shop volunteers made this apron......the fabric is exactly the same as a duvet cover I had when I was a student ( bought from Stockport market in 1974 ). As Christmas cake making evokes so many memories for me, it seems appropriate to wear this when baking )</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Since we returned from France, I have been working at the Hospice shop for 3 days a week, and have enjoyed seeing how the new Furniture and Vintage shop has been developing. It has been lovely to see staff, volunteers and some of my favourite customers again. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDkPxx-EOXOGpaOVzlYbbLZZ7oy9Q06bdpl3FPgvLzoLIbWvGES_V4yQQoo811hJLAOKUv68lGJFr-30kzhKztVzK9HKH-b2RwTDS53eylHjVTwPX7zj9z9QU-c0izUnkqxx7s1kpuO8Ew/s1600/IMG_6442.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDkPxx-EOXOGpaOVzlYbbLZZ7oy9Q06bdpl3FPgvLzoLIbWvGES_V4yQQoo811hJLAOKUv68lGJFr-30kzhKztVzK9HKH-b2RwTDS53eylHjVTwPX7zj9z9QU-c0izUnkqxx7s1kpuO8Ew/s320/IMG_6442.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not a very good photo due to reflections....but this is Rita, a brilliant Overgate volunteer, with a dolls house....that sold very quickly after being put in the window.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">What with working, seeing children and grandchildren, a few reflexology sessions, an attempt to declutter our crazily overstuffed Hebden Bridge house, a couple of concerts and some cinema trips.....well, the cake sort of got forgotten.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh15Jh-XNFhjbX_-_uQzodn1xV5aygFFiLx3wNrORCFi7fWgcD-E8wpnzjIKJJv69TerYOoHlvtBTxnZ7ljJyjx5GzvI7Nde-MChJJubXmUATuxY9Hp-bNVnBjTwMCRz44CJIswLMO4gf6k/s1600/IMG_6363.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh15Jh-XNFhjbX_-_uQzodn1xV5aygFFiLx3wNrORCFi7fWgcD-E8wpnzjIKJJv69TerYOoHlvtBTxnZ7ljJyjx5GzvI7Nde-MChJJubXmUATuxY9Hp-bNVnBjTwMCRz44CJIswLMO4gf6k/s400/IMG_6363.PNG" width="223" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">a quick phone snap of me with 3 of the munchkins<br /></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Anyway...it is now 40 minutes into its 4 hours 45 minute cook, so fingers are crossed all will be well.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Whenever I make my Christmas cake I am transported back to my first ever attempt. I was 39, Jess was 3, and Jodie was 13, and asked if she could help me make it. I panicked. I had never made one before, I wanted to please Jodie, but I was anxious not to upset my grandmother, Alice, who had always made my cake before. How would she take to being told her cake making skills were not required ?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I am sure I have posted about this before, but as I go through these memories on an annual basis, I have decided to post anyway.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Our compromise was that I remained on the phone to grandmother Alice throughout the whole cake making process. Each step was spoken to me over the phone, from north London, to Huddersfield. Even after it went in the oven, we had frequent checking phone calls.....and then the final removal from the oven was undertaken only when Alice was convinced my cake tester had gone into the cake and had come out again, completely clean.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Alice later admitted that she had been really relieved not to have been required to make the cake....she was 85, and had been concerned that it would have been a little too much effort and responsibility that particular year.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The cake was great, Alice helped eat it as she visited us over Christmas....and I have been in charge of Christmas cakes ever since.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">However, since Alice died......another grand lady has helped me. This year, as has happened for about the last 5 or 6, Mary Berry has accompanied me through the process.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">( I always wonder, if I left out that one tablespoonful of black treacle....would the cake be a disaster ? It seems so crazy, to buy a tin each year, just for that one spoonful. I always forget it's in the cupboard when I make other fruit cakes, and never remember from one Christmas to the next, where I put last year's tin )</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Jodie is 35 next year...Jess will be 25.....I wonder when I will hand over the reigns.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>Janicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05449652020751269674noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-926851391080970240.post-5190350668363549302015-10-15T16:15:00.000+01:002015-10-15T16:18:53.279+01:00Hanging the washing out<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We all used to do it. Now, maybe not so many of us do.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My grandmother had a stunning double decker washing line, with a pulley system that required strength and skill to operate. My job was to follow her down the garden and help position the two clothes props.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I am sure I have mentioned that hanging the washing out is special here, in past posts, but I don't think have properly recorded my wash day musings before .....until today. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Years ago, when our family rented a house in Provence, I realised I loved hanging out the washing.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The reasons being: </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">we were on holiday, and there was never much washing, as it was always too hot to wear many clothes, so it was never a chore;</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I never hung anything out " at home"...too wet, too cold, too busy working ridiculous hours during the day, so washing had to be done at night etc. etc;</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">and</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">the view from the washing line at the rented holiday house, was stunning.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So, when we bought our house in France, I was thrilled to find that the huge monstrosity of a 4 wired washing line, behind the house, offered stunning views over the village and to the distant Pyrenees. I have refused all offers to replace my old fashioned washing wires with one of those new fangled whirly things.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The novelty value of hanging washing out has long gone. However, I rarely hang it out without thinking of my grandmother's highly engineered set up, and I always marvel at the beautiful view. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In the summer, when it is really hot, it is possible to hang out sheets, and take them off the line as soon as you have finished hanging them. Sometimes it is too hot to hang things out and I might seek a volunteer to do it, or wait until it is cooler.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Hanging the washing out in the autumn is just lovely. I have just put a couple of machine loads on the lines, and decided the time was right to blog about it !</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAfNDgoEKogJJ6uPftF89wP6m5bF8IpT_OsVdJb1amo3PJngyYQBJuC4FyfV7n6aWb8-epP8X4iTvs5slP_PidM0ZXHSXSdDrT5AKGf-j3QmmPMVb1TG4JUQeMhfvE-_-RFPtUxb5aT23S/s1600/IMG_5743.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAfNDgoEKogJJ6uPftF89wP6m5bF8IpT_OsVdJb1amo3PJngyYQBJuC4FyfV7n6aWb8-epP8X4iTvs5slP_PidM0ZXHSXSdDrT5AKGf-j3QmmPMVb1TG4JUQeMhfvE-_-RFPtUxb5aT23S/s400/IMG_5743.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">As I leave the house by the back door, I look up to the washing line, and the forest behind the house.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9eZ_5Yp8ekinP5l6Fu9UBek9GX2iKdt4GceIrF9yW6Y5R4MR5ZalfZPUZWoM1KMa4A0MOkONke68VyKvLQmPF0iZtFj53lGhehm2XyZGnJWfdxwnqlF2L4qRE20wI1zRvaSZOWIdNJGw_/s1600/IMG_5746.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9eZ_5Yp8ekinP5l6Fu9UBek9GX2iKdt4GceIrF9yW6Y5R4MR5ZalfZPUZWoM1KMa4A0MOkONke68VyKvLQmPF0iZtFj53lGhehm2XyZGnJWfdxwnqlF2L4qRE20wI1zRvaSZOWIdNJGw_/s640/IMG_5746.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I walk up a set of steps and turn to my right and admire the view. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghyphenhyphenZvw54U56uuAZx6a-J3SAhq0Ph_wpf38tXYsT18Vqj_N4j585St0pGRLkEnbNYdNADLCWF3z1WqirfGC4M-1oDrWu-tLbAqyLSEhYyApL2yn6GmJgyackLv2uYoj86ZW306YMjZFtYXX/s1600/P1030746.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghyphenhyphenZvw54U56uuAZx6a-J3SAhq0Ph_wpf38tXYsT18Vqj_N4j585St0pGRLkEnbNYdNADLCWF3z1WqirfGC4M-1oDrWu-tLbAqyLSEhYyApL2yn6GmJgyackLv2uYoj86ZW306YMjZFtYXX/s400/P1030746.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The virginia creeper is turning red against the ivy covered wall below me.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I step on a carpet of wild thyme, that sends wafts of beautiful herby scent upwards.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiEZUKBeDoykEmwkoN-q7YCkt8jIEnVnwVq_bHlkDeEKDD6WmoqphhQtoEAdcFyibN7qPOgsujUjB4nqqt5T7exfgHemOk-YvLvufPD3KCtEkNEgwbFxPcmJHHswmBDd0egHy6x14OMoTj/s1600/IMG_5757.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiEZUKBeDoykEmwkoN-q7YCkt8jIEnVnwVq_bHlkDeEKDD6WmoqphhQtoEAdcFyibN7qPOgsujUjB4nqqt5T7exfgHemOk-YvLvufPD3KCtEkNEgwbFxPcmJHHswmBDd0egHy6x14OMoTj/s400/IMG_5757.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The story book pine forest is to my right as I peg out the clothes, the terrace where we sit and watch the grandchildren play boules is in front of me.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPjX7-9Nx2dtDXGn3Kgd7ScN7k5PrdEWl1iv-Ri_HoVbx9Ua5iMlx15BXoVa_8zFUUg05J3DkfSn48xt3khRE5XIsN6Wkc89VyTVPMLkN2sLLq_GefAymvj7CwMSNmLx2u5yVr9UsRxoQg/s1600/IMG_5771.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPjX7-9Nx2dtDXGn3Kgd7ScN7k5PrdEWl1iv-Ri_HoVbx9Ua5iMlx15BXoVa_8zFUUg05J3DkfSn48xt3khRE5XIsN6Wkc89VyTVPMLkN2sLLq_GefAymvj7CwMSNmLx2u5yVr9UsRxoQg/s400/IMG_5771.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The pegs are carefully stored in a now, fading peg bag, made for me by Sharon who I used to work with at the hospital in Halifax. So I always give her a thought too, and then I wander back into the house......job done, and with such pleasure.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>Janicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05449652020751269674noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-926851391080970240.post-8055036236271347332015-10-03T14:10:00.001+01:002015-10-03T14:10:54.230+01:00Examen normal<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3NlOMvBn3s59dip3LMF8ku0pCViUETln_IcuZDt-WIqlZwNmjYdLffCW5yyPYBFZMM64v7g5ftuDpXVEMma008prEpTfLc7P-lMNHoSQHrIdgOu3TwfDjCqwPpfSgw5nIwVsE1WqGdDwc/s1600/P1060959.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3NlOMvBn3s59dip3LMF8ku0pCViUETln_IcuZDt-WIqlZwNmjYdLffCW5yyPYBFZMM64v7g5ftuDpXVEMma008prEpTfLc7P-lMNHoSQHrIdgOu3TwfDjCqwPpfSgw5nIwVsE1WqGdDwc/s400/P1060959.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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I need to start this post with stating that I cannot envisage life with out our amazing NHS.</div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The NHS saved my life 3 years ago, and continues to keeps its careful eyes on me. </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I have been lucky enough to experience the NHS at its very best, where it leaps into action, saving lives, providing absolutely, the best treatment and care, and doing it brilliantly.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I will always defend it, always wanting the concept of equality of service, available to everyone, free at the point of delivery....always, always.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In this post I want to describe how I have recently experienced the health system in France.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">On Tuesday this week, I visited a local GP in our village. I had been experiencing some pain in my side as it hadn't disappeared after a few days of ibuprofen/paracetamol treatment. I am very anxious about pain, after my cancer experience, and had started to lose sleep, imagining the worst. My cancer was an aggressive strain, and I know I am lucky to be alive. The thought of its return is never too far from my mind.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So, at 5.15pm on Tuesday, I saw the GP. I did have to wait in her no appointments surgery for quite a while, but I saw her, on the day I decided I needed to see a Dr.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I spent half an hour with her, talking, being listened to, being examined and then discussing with her, what it might be. As far as she was concerned there was no question that I needed blood tests, an X ray and a scan to check things out, due to my cancer history.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The next morning, a local nurse came to my house, before breakfast, to take the blood. I was informed that I would get the results the following morning, by priority mail. I did, and they indicated there was no problem.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I had to telephone the hospital to arrange the X ray and scan, which I was able to do for the following day.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">At 5.00pm, 48 hours after seeing the GP, I was called into the X ray dept, 15 minutes later I was led into the scan department by the Dr who discussed the X ray results with me, as she set up the scanning equipment. 20 minutes later, I left the scan department having been told there was no problem. No cancer, no unexplained masses.......a bit of ageing of the bones possibly, but most importantly, the scan had showed up nothing of any significance.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I left the hospital an hour after arriving, 49 hours after having first seen the GP, holding a copy of my X ray, a copy of my scan and a copy of the Consultant's report on the scan.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I have to add that I also carried with me the receipt for the bill I had just paid. I have an interesting collection of receipts and bills now..... 23 euros for the GP consultation, 8 euros for the nurse's visit, 38 euros for the lab work on the blood tests and 176 euros for the X ray, the scan and the Consultant's time.</span></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQjrwXjhlXJz8k11JqZnssKAxVCswqnXDbxsiEy3eYdCWZirjX4WoR7n73GsPbXMX_oIMUW0F6YyShUcGHsmvR5C1x6KKzRNBzFfoRgVP4P5C4RPzQXUqX9OQp4Ozv0uiXDRdOJJTmsVAP/s1600/P1060980.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQjrwXjhlXJz8k11JqZnssKAxVCswqnXDbxsiEy3eYdCWZirjX4WoR7n73GsPbXMX_oIMUW0F6YyShUcGHsmvR5C1x6KKzRNBzFfoRgVP4P5C4RPzQXUqX9OQp4Ozv0uiXDRdOJJTmsVAP/s320/P1060980.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The stack of bills</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I can claim most of that back through the European Health card system, but to be honest, it feels like the best 200+ euros I've ever spent. Within 48 hours, any panic I had felt, was gone.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The pain.....probably nerve damage from my surgery and from chemo...possibly some scar tissue......all of which can be coped with, and medicated for if required.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The outcome would have been the same in the UK. I do not have cancer.....but it would have taken considerably longer to calm my nerves. I actually haven't had a scan in the UK since I ended my chemotherapy, two and a half years ago. When I have questioned this, the response has always been that there is no need, if there seems to be no problem. Reassurance scans are not something that our beloved NHS is fond of. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So....panic over, normal sleep patterns resumed. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I am not saying this is better than the NHS. It is different, and I do not know how it works. I know that there are schemes to ensure that people who earn less do not have to pay, and that those who earn more, pay for "top up " insurance. They do not hand over piles of cash when they received their bills from each stage of the process. They hand over their insurance details.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">What I cannot fathom, is how it works so efficiently.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">How can I get a Drs appointment on the evening that I decide I want one ? How can I have a nurse come to my house 15 hours after it is determined I need a blood test ? How can I get a scan appointment within 24 hours ? How can I be called for my scan appointment at exactly the time I booked ? How can I get the results immediately, and take away the hard copy evidence of my " examen normal " ?</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVwEsfYYe2hMpEM_9PYEq6CDdY39Im-AWfXhpDIVIIxsDgmRc3j9dhVBTW2NnybKU96_cw6Ed8hbKC341r9p9gGDlG4Z3_CKuINvklOQdK6ZsRmzUDuTtpofH8xwTWyd4RWKjBR2czlJEG/s1600/P1060985.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVwEsfYYe2hMpEM_9PYEq6CDdY39Im-AWfXhpDIVIIxsDgmRc3j9dhVBTW2NnybKU96_cw6Ed8hbKC341r9p9gGDlG4Z3_CKuINvklOQdK6ZsRmzUDuTtpofH8xwTWyd4RWKjBR2czlJEG/s320/P1060985.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This was a good experience. I can go to my next NHS check up armed with a scan, a report and a stack of blood test results indicating "all is well ". </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I really don't know how I feel about all of this. I want the values of the NHS, the principles of the NHS, the quality of the care provided by the NHS.......but I also want the speed and efficiency that I have experienced here in France. </span></div>
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Janicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05449652020751269674noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-926851391080970240.post-79772899527797860212015-09-03T17:16:00.000+01:002015-09-03T17:16:00.080+01:00Rhythms of Caunes<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">How can this summer be nearly over ? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It is rentree this week. The children of Caunes all went back to school on Tuesday, as they did all over France. My daughter, Jess, began her second year of teaching reception aged children in Liverpool, also on Tuesday, and we have started to think about putting "summer things" away. We are almost at the point of thinking about packing the house up, for our return to Yorkshire at the end of October.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I had all sorts of intentions of redirecting my blogging efforts this year. It hasn't happened. In fact, I've only written 4 blog posts since I left Yorkshire in May, and they have all been diary type posts....exactly what I was determined to move away from.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I have thought a great deal about the rhythms of life while I have been in Caunes this year. It is difficult to avoid thinking about patterns, and the regular events that have now become so familiar to us as we share our time between Yorkshire and the Minervois.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Seeing the cherries appear on the trees, and for sale by the roadside marks the start of our time here every year. I can hardly believe this is now our 4th summer here. So, the cherry conserve making takes place, and then, suddenly, apricots are in abundance and my favourite jam of the year gets made.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The marble festival in Caunes, le quatorze, Le Tour, les vendredis Classiques, les mardis in Villeneuve, our return to Yorkshire for my 4 monthly hospital check, meals at our favourite restaurant in Caunes ( La Table d'Emilie ) with friends Steve and Jane, more time walking/ cycling with Steve and Jane, what seems to have become an annual trip to Spain....with Steve and Jane, the Carcassonne festival, concerts in the quarries, the vide greniers......all these things have become important elements of our absolutely lovely life here in Caunes.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNsH3rBagppy3BATuKBhK7dYlnS5C-je7OVT4kkS_9K7TWhcVBiIKA5ZGgKny4TQAqbsffx0FYmplNrWxvb2l7afL5yY7QsdvQWl8eCVZzBfjdnSqNYB8beh5-tzsrA14zd0fh_T3FirEx/s1600/P1060393.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNsH3rBagppy3BATuKBhK7dYlnS5C-je7OVT4kkS_9K7TWhcVBiIKA5ZGgKny4TQAqbsffx0FYmplNrWxvb2l7afL5yY7QsdvQWl8eCVZzBfjdnSqNYB8beh5-tzsrA14zd0fh_T3FirEx/s200/P1060393.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Le Quatorze</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiq3IulJnHgSEPh1Fku7_GoVRPImmp08970NkHVntLcg7T0ny9A-N-H1HQrM4IDpTIvt6-C0cRiwlf4ywXXmfrYXNacmnkztMHS-ZETzzqxDEqab6FyrU3UnQKROpelUlAHIkvw9U-kcK3/s1600/DSC_0061.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiq3IulJnHgSEPh1Fku7_GoVRPImmp08970NkHVntLcg7T0ny9A-N-H1HQrM4IDpTIvt6-C0cRiwlf4ywXXmfrYXNacmnkztMHS-ZETzzqxDEqab6FyrU3UnQKROpelUlAHIkvw9U-kcK3/s320/DSC_0061.JPG" width="293" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Le Tour</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiaJ2Vf_eTBe9t1aF3HatQz9B-p-KuHcN51Cv1wofPA509OnAlI0MB3DqfpXiXGhznzbmufs95rsHaxcnncpoJ2pux83RPaRn_iC8KXMs-YjJ8uvH4zi0cz50sPPJ0Xv21HupzKqFVFqYU/s1600/2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiaJ2Vf_eTBe9t1aF3HatQz9B-p-KuHcN51Cv1wofPA509OnAlI0MB3DqfpXiXGhznzbmufs95rsHaxcnncpoJ2pux83RPaRn_iC8KXMs-YjJ8uvH4zi0cz50sPPJ0Xv21HupzKqFVFqYU/s320/2.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Trips with friends</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It is great when visitors who have not visited us here before, come to stay for a while. It means we can show them around, and re-appreciate the gorgeous place in which we are lucky enough to live.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjknjCfP3KD_OVvT7B2GCglQCahMXATvjjcYqyDPlRk8GfjnziB4KKlUctsvWMyIt70snYVcBIoRoK62-4inKs-nTmNrS3Ds29mTvAPowa4h7q6nzcUzwo2E8nq700FK2HAcszxqp13T0Dz/s1600/FullSizeRender+%25284%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjknjCfP3KD_OVvT7B2GCglQCahMXATvjjcYqyDPlRk8GfjnziB4KKlUctsvWMyIt70snYVcBIoRoK62-4inKs-nTmNrS3Ds29mTvAPowa4h7q6nzcUzwo2E8nq700FK2HAcszxqp13T0Dz/s320/FullSizeRender+%25284%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The abbey in Caunes, from our garden</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Then, of course, there are the annual trips from the children and grandchildren.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWxTRM2I9sHweTWXI1964Qw0aMErSKGViqQchWhKrjIfvoeSD2QsDpmu3ocCsGLIK5NnH0nbu_9FQRpB5vOCAR25pYcr3KUzhDXaf4yyFz05hJK1D4XNxOY_9TA-93UWPP_d1npzBxJ08Q/s1600/DSC_0040.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWxTRM2I9sHweTWXI1964Qw0aMErSKGViqQchWhKrjIfvoeSD2QsDpmu3ocCsGLIK5NnH0nbu_9FQRpB5vOCAR25pYcr3KUzhDXaf4yyFz05hJK1D4XNxOY_9TA-93UWPP_d1npzBxJ08Q/s400/DSC_0040.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jess and Matty, who came with Matty's parents this time.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">They want to go to the places they have come to love, as well as always trying to discover a few new treats. Time in the pool, the 3 bears' house, the playground in Caunes, playing on the trees by the bar, seeing the marble statues on the way to the quarry....these things have all become traditions, and will undoubtedly be things to remember for the little ones in years to come.</span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsUw1FhiwK2RCaJvyNsZtYcletiC1Kfj1_BQCN8iuVidcJcvI5LrNfj4NRQyVDmkaDRiBA3wJuXjBG0P2xFMssT7Fki80BMTdS5fOJ9Q39iaK4BnEyBWe5lFYM4zsdBRIDZWncJXp_q2AD/s1600/DSC_0201.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsUw1FhiwK2RCaJvyNsZtYcletiC1Kfj1_BQCN8iuVidcJcvI5LrNfj4NRQyVDmkaDRiBA3wJuXjBG0P2xFMssT7Fki80BMTdS5fOJ9Q39iaK4BnEyBWe5lFYM4zsdBRIDZWncJXp_q2AD/s400/DSC_0201.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Liam has been driving this tractor around the pool for 4 years. The older boys could hardly reach the pedals in the first year...now they are much too big for it...but they love it.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHgW3UEDkS3hMAtw-ijUxaqW7nbomSN-MfAadVWgLEwvd0YW0YY0TsyBWNoyeyt4IKms_CAjQviZEetbbzi7tdKb3iAkUtKxId-DDVZ0FLqWkw712CgaOpoWyox-dvxh6Yl5Z_B0ubFWCU/s1600/DSC_0070.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHgW3UEDkS3hMAtw-ijUxaqW7nbomSN-MfAadVWgLEwvd0YW0YY0TsyBWNoyeyt4IKms_CAjQviZEetbbzi7tdKb3iAkUtKxId-DDVZ0FLqWkw712CgaOpoWyox-dvxh6Yl5Z_B0ubFWCU/s400/DSC_0070.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Izzie.....a great little swimmer at 3 years old</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJg0cxByklPtzniX5Ash9mDi2SKCjVUm3FPcKNXDl4I-cr57AHdGGgn7hrtSjL1HVxX6DOuYN1DnvzigR0rMYwfEk4Vzn03rR_ciEmntWth0R56cEcbhpDpBjyo9WO88lghZXqcbrsnCLa/s1600/DSC_0001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJg0cxByklPtzniX5Ash9mDi2SKCjVUm3FPcKNXDl4I-cr57AHdGGgn7hrtSjL1HVxX6DOuYN1DnvzigR0rMYwfEk4Vzn03rR_ciEmntWth0R56cEcbhpDpBjyo9WO88lghZXqcbrsnCLa/s400/DSC_0001.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">They get more gorgeous every day.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZxieJ0DUhpbKS94qjg9HzAyyF5F1hJYsMgCKBTqJRcs4kbJTcSEvVWeHEk2AtjqFr9IYXxX9Y1Vca2MEj5ehFqoKuMRFg3RcHoQ2_nXMMD7ccm8Svq-GTDQm058VYZF6DsbwS4y8Ml5Ju/s1600/P1060506.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="301" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZxieJ0DUhpbKS94qjg9HzAyyF5F1hJYsMgCKBTqJRcs4kbJTcSEvVWeHEk2AtjqFr9IYXxX9Y1Vca2MEj5ehFqoKuMRFg3RcHoQ2_nXMMD7ccm8Svq-GTDQm058VYZF6DsbwS4y8Ml5Ju/s400/P1060506.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Visiting Carcassonne.......again......It can never get to be boring.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Now, as the days have become a little cooler, and the visitors have gone, we find we are meeting for our weekly cafe des langues, inside the bar rather than outside. Mark and I are pruning and shredding to make mulch. The vendange is under way, and the Citou onion festival is on Sunday this weekend....again, for the 4th time since we came to know Caunes.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I haven't wanted to repeat posts from previous years. Sometimes it has felt that is what I would have been doing if I had spent all summer blogging.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2RTIjTq0DmikEzWukZGRjb7nXkHHBr7G2JaNN0DLnNHW3MbZ89FiDTJ01Vcq_Tlg6Ib_6rHrwDXceLoTDodRD5n7rYbZItPGA3XiY81AqjSc0Oshy2DXBT4wltEtyyvXj5rCWxEFsKVa7/s1600/IMG_3291.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2RTIjTq0DmikEzWukZGRjb7nXkHHBr7G2JaNN0DLnNHW3MbZ89FiDTJ01Vcq_Tlg6Ib_6rHrwDXceLoTDodRD5n7rYbZItPGA3XiY81AqjSc0Oshy2DXBT4wltEtyyvXj5rCWxEFsKVa7/s320/IMG_3291.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Some things are different. Today, new people came to the cafe des langues. The boulangerie has moved 3 doors down the street. I have taken up mosaicing ( no, I realise there is no such word ). People who we regarded as aquaintances have become dear and valued friends, and believe it or not.....our French is improving !</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So, the rhythm continues. Mark and I are healthy, the children are well and seem happy. The grandchildren are growing up to be fabulous individuals, and we are wallowing in enjoying it all. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So......no real new blogging direction, yet. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">All I can produce here is just a very conscious appreciation of yet another lovely lovely period of our lives.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw0qvXqt8XP7Z6Uyr6blH4MaDa7HfkU1VZshNMmDh6lACAY7QbvbHVhY8BwnPdGuWYoJ_KcbzG7vkjgSJ9-5US2rb87JNtWklFpxXQiHX2K7iCmJP7H61IUvK5Hj2ogFlOcHVJ5KN3GJEH/s1600/IMG_4294.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw0qvXqt8XP7Z6Uyr6blH4MaDa7HfkU1VZshNMmDh6lACAY7QbvbHVhY8BwnPdGuWYoJ_KcbzG7vkjgSJ9-5US2rb87JNtWklFpxXQiHX2K7iCmJP7H61IUvK5Hj2ogFlOcHVJ5KN3GJEH/s320/IMG_4294.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jess, Mark and I</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">walking down into the village for a meal</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjojaNMV4sQ0osK_Ps-jJOp8InDRxDwV0dhwVZ8XxqG3zC5CS8agTQOQsdgSwhmJG37c8Cl4rcHudiEZkl0k3GeRgke521i-Q9OzK0iYk1fjm7t1JrCjJ-U3CAHydijCqCe7WliSr4RTH9E/s1600/IMG_3850.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjojaNMV4sQ0osK_Ps-jJOp8InDRxDwV0dhwVZ8XxqG3zC5CS8agTQOQsdgSwhmJG37c8Cl4rcHudiEZkl0k3GeRgke521i-Q9OzK0iYk1fjm7t1JrCjJ-U3CAHydijCqCe7WliSr4RTH9E/s400/IMG_3850.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Teddies waiting for children to play with.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>Janicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05449652020751269674noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-926851391080970240.post-2169817755216570822015-07-21T14:53:00.002+01:002015-07-21T14:53:53.415+01:00This year's Le Tour adventure<div class="MsoNormal">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9_3N-4xrXT0UA5LAZAzXdGI4JF7OyCCJEpVbBpAlei8YV6_6DN1PJ4wVYZn5au9GeVz_pBoxu0vQUMHk0YpLua9TohO6NtsNUP1TkRiLcGTdt7uLDQmDZe5d2TQIR296WmjGrITPo0Pyf/s1600/3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9_3N-4xrXT0UA5LAZAzXdGI4JF7OyCCJEpVbBpAlei8YV6_6DN1PJ4wVYZn5au9GeVz_pBoxu0vQUMHk0YpLua9TohO6NtsNUP1TkRiLcGTdt7uLDQmDZe5d2TQIR296WmjGrITPo0Pyf/s320/3.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mark took this photo of Jane, Steve and I, as we arrived at a col in the Pyrenees</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We've just had our
annual Tour de France day. This year we decided to make a real trip of it, and
we stayed overnight in Massat, in the Pyrenees so we could see a mountain
stage. We’ve seen flat stages through French villages, a hilly Yorkshire stage last year, and
the dramatic Carcassonne depart, also last year, so this was something new.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">our hotel, in Massat</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The hotel
was basic, but pretty and interesting. I could have done without the creepy dolls set out
in the public areas,</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfAuvSTL3t2NSWSSqo-NIPrZDuQticEkuy4TbsCs0Gh5L1cnbBJsA8-uR1juHT8qb1jksnaJFYygmFz5GVQij1GPl5h1m02XtrCsv5vguQrRH0PtHFWfufUKf321xZgbuLAvpMWV-uGkCJ/s1600/P1060399.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfAuvSTL3t2NSWSSqo-NIPrZDuQticEkuy4TbsCs0Gh5L1cnbBJsA8-uR1juHT8qb1jksnaJFYygmFz5GVQij1GPl5h1m02XtrCsv5vguQrRH0PtHFWfufUKf321xZgbuLAvpMWV-uGkCJ/s320/P1060399.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">..... and the bed could have been more comfortable and the décor
in the French bathroom (which did not have a toilet) was fairly bizarre. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">However, the staff were lovely and the food was amazing.</span></span></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgurmmtZXK7p1LpOwp-kShMW7PaR5Ri4hSTQQYh5ANoJSPjU-TZDuCgKazBh6Emb-dYt3qdBjo5apXgIk_sKtwZd1qFnBwDArnkSZDWFRXnfCbGpsgXgLfyqJNyxAz6w40nbyNxc7-AgXIJ/s1600/5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="321" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgurmmtZXK7p1LpOwp-kShMW7PaR5Ri4hSTQQYh5ANoJSPjU-TZDuCgKazBh6Emb-dYt3qdBjo5apXgIk_sKtwZd1qFnBwDArnkSZDWFRXnfCbGpsgXgLfyqJNyxAz6w40nbyNxc7-AgXIJ/s400/5.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It does look as if I am snorting this pomme sorbet with calvados, but I promise I wasn't.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The hotel was actually on the
route for Le Tour, and it was incredibly cheap.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 18.6666660308838px; line-height: 21.4666652679443px;">Massat is a pretty village in the Pyrenees, and it welcomed Le Tour with open arms.</span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyQSt-t5sUknDxEQIFDqJ79G6MhltR5H4Hk0Uwe0t1_obviuI0DwuWR_Lu7c6_-PAuOLuK9AxUXbJ9h8_GSK9bkq6kwG56TPZ15IprPeujSWnLeOP_IrGAYFz35ozdn2tsaZkauMY-deZL/s1600/P1060401.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyQSt-t5sUknDxEQIFDqJ79G6MhltR5H4Hk0Uwe0t1_obviuI0DwuWR_Lu7c6_-PAuOLuK9AxUXbJ9h8_GSK9bkq6kwG56TPZ15IprPeujSWnLeOP_IrGAYFz35ozdn2tsaZkauMY-deZL/s320/P1060401.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There are bears in the Pyrenees...not many, but they are there.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEDMQvRAtdudZj2Tpb1L2y3N5BWWG9Gyo9sjdpPkyq79TgCqDpAnSYCjiNR2LN6Niuwo2jVTiEH-FC1UVLUDqFzVwHwE4Htz0GDRFaYIVMwlsW7tR3NCV5Yqt3N99WRY7GFspNX0r0Ak7u/s1600/P1060402.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="293" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEDMQvRAtdudZj2Tpb1L2y3N5BWWG9Gyo9sjdpPkyq79TgCqDpAnSYCjiNR2LN6Niuwo2jVTiEH-FC1UVLUDqFzVwHwE4Htz0GDRFaYIVMwlsW7tR3NCV5Yqt3N99WRY7GFspNX0r0Ak7u/s400/P1060402.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jane, Steve, Verity and Mark checking the Tourist information board</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh59dnvoLkWZQbCTsH7voDHF0GYidKj_1oQd-AFSW4q8Xj5syCa9cUiA6jUgwr21hDglSiG62PsAmEn4no3ZjipiVStMvaqkFuQEjNLQgujoEP9IbJtJGkflwZN15iTA3dEvJFuEn6HS7S_/s1600/P1060413.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh59dnvoLkWZQbCTsH7voDHF0GYidKj_1oQd-AFSW4q8Xj5syCa9cUiA6jUgwr21hDglSiG62PsAmEn4no3ZjipiVStMvaqkFuQEjNLQgujoEP9IbJtJGkflwZN15iTA3dEvJFuEn6HS7S_/s640/P1060413.JPG" width="442" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A fabulous brocante shop in Massat. There was so much "stuff" in it.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We sat in the café in the centre of the village, as the gendarmes argued with the café
owners about table positions at the side of the road, and people began to
select their viewing positions.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9sqYXOzVCq6bp6z_Y1Be1rKULReuDm9GXfVvyMN4zp_buRChgQ_Flx4LZw_WaWOi-JhSzJYGyq7MTf_x1UfOkM44BxH6WZD5MzW-Y8XyRKkemLziMJTzu7MafpW-CuXsYEHBx_s2A0zDU/s1600/DSC_0020.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9sqYXOzVCq6bp6z_Y1Be1rKULReuDm9GXfVvyMN4zp_buRChgQ_Flx4LZw_WaWOi-JhSzJYGyq7MTf_x1UfOkM44BxH6WZD5MzW-Y8XyRKkemLziMJTzu7MafpW-CuXsYEHBx_s2A0zDU/s400/DSC_0020.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mark, buying some Tour merchandise.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheevk04-qhPfQjC_ZIViM_oNiNCchudhhB8teTKXztZCXzcsIpC-5b7ifALSoJ_-zlgnrUC7kytQ2sG-fVYMeFZEgcyWoDgWjBaQj7V9SUdIxdn0hk6guRNCL-ured9watl66y8Xlt0Ds-/s1600/P1060426.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheevk04-qhPfQjC_ZIViM_oNiNCchudhhB8teTKXztZCXzcsIpC-5b7ifALSoJ_-zlgnrUC7kytQ2sG-fVYMeFZEgcyWoDgWjBaQj7V9SUdIxdn0hk6guRNCL-ured9watl66y8Xlt0Ds-/s400/P1060426.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The barricades, ready to go up, to hold the crowd back....and keep the cafe tables off the actual route. Those black arrows on the yellow background are to show the cyclists the way to go !</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We had
decided on a spot just before the village. We had checked it out the day before
and thought we would be able to see any breakaway that had happened due to the
previous climbs, as well as the peloton, going through, just before they hit
the final 2 climbs of the day. We reckoned they would not be zooming past us so
fast we would not be able to pick out our heroes…but fast enough to be excited
by it all.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihdPUXWb1CuYzYDEr4cxIRYJWhCh__lx4D7JaCgKb_hzvtbOPhdr9lFWxJkXpOsq4VDWOC_d64fHHLqU5ddsK0VcswzB0x_k5PYnEwVzP_jwnKMGrm3PLDfCpiL5xU4v5hvkEgkZ5PTcWS/s1600/DSC_0009.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihdPUXWb1CuYzYDEr4cxIRYJWhCh__lx4D7JaCgKb_hzvtbOPhdr9lFWxJkXpOsq4VDWOC_d64fHHLqU5ddsK0VcswzB0x_k5PYnEwVzP_jwnKMGrm3PLDfCpiL5xU4v5hvkEgkZ5PTcWS/s640/DSC_0009.JPG" width="384" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mark, and Jesus, waiting for the race to arrive.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">It all
worked to plan. We had set up by about 9.30 am, waiting for the caravan to come through at about 1pm. The waiting was nearly as good as the arrival of the caravan and then the
cyclists themselves. Verity kept us informed about the progress of the race by checking Le Tour app on her phone, so we knew exactly what was going on.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlvQF08pBMqabXhVnMmosEn8G9M5w8-nMFGuu2hk4TOKxTL3KiDrP6dqQSZuYbSBlSN8PAp4SilrHIgLQZaAQaWAIvoqEkKE03syogigvvHpBjJo-sa9NB3wnqORXHOq2uAVITNyJH7F23/s400/DSC_0010.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Establishing shade was important</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil1-OSzt2Z8GQVtwsp2c5Ubn-wdMjrQGs4O2f9nhkTQ4OzHQf3rV5QUEFG33IOTvY9k-a-PABJc7OzSjNvIirZeoBqpcAsbgYTdVbVoIQ0O0H9vCcb-AJgWt4fNo15kGHlLsY6WYALvvrL/s1600/DSC_0015.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil1-OSzt2Z8GQVtwsp2c5Ubn-wdMjrQGs4O2f9nhkTQ4OzHQf3rV5QUEFG33IOTvY9k-a-PABJc7OzSjNvIirZeoBqpcAsbgYTdVbVoIQ0O0H9vCcb-AJgWt4fNo15kGHlLsY6WYALvvrL/s320/DSC_0015.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">So getting those umbrellas right was crucial</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We chatted, we arranged chairs in the ever moving shade,
we had a pic-nic and we organised our yellow umbrellas, Sky vests and other Tour
paraphernalia.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI3CQA1LBf8sVvbrns1A3irODfuMhUx0Jsw3uJ0tc0A9oCd-T35p6Hov1I2b8zM-Yu8S01WhIF7bsmXECs8kAStpubmwNipBjRnEj2vpK93IsRMQtS75vJQTxKONZf0EzvG1G91aphLmcf/s1600/DSC_0025.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="432" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI3CQA1LBf8sVvbrns1A3irODfuMhUx0Jsw3uJ0tc0A9oCd-T35p6Hov1I2b8zM-Yu8S01WhIF7bsmXECs8kAStpubmwNipBjRnEj2vpK93IsRMQtS75vJQTxKONZf0EzvG1G91aphLmcf/s640/DSC_0025.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A gendarme was positioned next to us....she was required to stand all day ! It was very hot.</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigk2zaO4OoyAC2FuOT8Hv3THbuYyuMt-e4pkPAJ2qS3nYd5QaxVj3evbjF-Amr-4zSUGAO8s-K2dPoHdvQIxjYQ0mYTzI9j7PTuc6ACe5tqchfOoOpdTbSbh4zpJJRRe6xWno2TdHcULv-/s1600/DSC_0026.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigk2zaO4OoyAC2FuOT8Hv3THbuYyuMt-e4pkPAJ2qS3nYd5QaxVj3evbjF-Amr-4zSUGAO8s-K2dPoHdvQIxjYQ0mYTzI9j7PTuc6ACe5tqchfOoOpdTbSbh4zpJJRRe6xWno2TdHcULv-/s400/DSC_0026.JPG" width="267" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR_FNt1ozZluo1pUmiJQPlxCnKcyj34YegEgAaBwKXVrXpTVrossiaEI5rfzmKqgh92TjvXQyFN0unUEEcdO8ib_35ynRtkyoi0Zl2UWujYlhTizj7O9ogeSWu_DzGFSXv4J74QFahML0U/s1600/DSC_0044.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR_FNt1ozZluo1pUmiJQPlxCnKcyj34YegEgAaBwKXVrXpTVrossiaEI5rfzmKqgh92TjvXQyFN0unUEEcdO8ib_35ynRtkyoi0Zl2UWujYlhTizj7O9ogeSWu_DzGFSXv4J74QFahML0U/s640/DSC_0044.JPG" width="428" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mark, opening the wine, Steve, as designated driver, was very good...he did not have a drop. Others among the group did !</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhePwGIKKHjZEzzSrldjWy37m5veVhH190kUWexK_u_GUNsrtU5FRhLH-e_Fi2VVoTwi8ycSjgOlUbl-9G6RoJ7dXPmJwRDcy6roKY8yPFqB3a6DX8NulDrdnWeojmz1RHT2YtAN44sMSK2/s1600/DSC_0047.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhePwGIKKHjZEzzSrldjWy37m5veVhH190kUWexK_u_GUNsrtU5FRhLH-e_Fi2VVoTwi8ycSjgOlUbl-9G6RoJ7dXPmJwRDcy6roKY8yPFqB3a6DX8NulDrdnWeojmz1RHT2YtAN44sMSK2/s640/DSC_0047.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Waiting for the race.....after lunch, Sky jerseys set out so the boys would know who we were supporting</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The caravan
arrived with all its razzmatazz…..and we joined in, catching key rings, hats,
wrist bands, bottles of water, juice, bags of various sizes, tee shirts and
blow up pillows ( IBIS hotels advertisements).</span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPso3f6hnA4kP7aoxUFNr7GHeOoz0FQrVEsXDfXFBQtxtde7dRjnMl4dxwWk6GR0Dv5oRQcyhPeRNpdag-3oCs0gsRg1INCdWm5eZw755hf07J-m1f5q-Ut0grwokEbcxso0Ay52_DNcsq/s1600/DSC_0028.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPso3f6hnA4kP7aoxUFNr7GHeOoz0FQrVEsXDfXFBQtxtde7dRjnMl4dxwWk6GR0Dv5oRQcyhPeRNpdag-3oCs0gsRg1INCdWm5eZw755hf07J-m1f5q-Ut0grwokEbcxso0Ay52_DNcsq/s640/DSC_0028.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I've seen this huge cyclist many times now....but it's still exciting......Steve was perfectly positioned to catch goodies thrown from the floats.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPDV1FTUwryI1rFv1XSh1Q7Y_RjVW4SDBLNMgYB05aNZEC-ScLlDUJz1dCzYY7B2N8bgPIXq1yk4mCYB6hkU4I0B5g_y57NLqPzON5VbBN6jxzPyT4rHPfwBKla4sX3TytxRuriGsfF92c/s1600/DSC_0039.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="253" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPDV1FTUwryI1rFv1XSh1Q7Y_RjVW4SDBLNMgYB05aNZEC-ScLlDUJz1dCzYY7B2N8bgPIXq1yk4mCYB6hkU4I0B5g_y57NLqPzON5VbBN6jxzPyT4rHPfwBKla4sX3TytxRuriGsfF92c/s400/DSC_0039.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I don't think they threw out any pens.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We shared some of our loot with
a French family who had positioned themselves nearest to us, and some Dutch
supporters who had come fully equipped with their camper van.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 18.6666660308838px; line-height: 21.4666652679443px;">We then awaited the real purpose of the day. A lone rider arrived, seconds ahead of the expected breakaway group.</span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx4VqrMFF5HrmgH4afi59X9WS4OSJ2wrrwnrwXJaBBEoBtfnjlf0fWCGIfgOWZOPYur0FX31WdDMIkcb6JJiGXsAvNm4DoTpaKReZ6PTV_TZnyTeZvPy1Hz39MwKXnPwPayhGuCq8JyRXf/s1600/DSC_0054.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx4VqrMFF5HrmgH4afi59X9WS4OSJ2wrrwnrwXJaBBEoBtfnjlf0fWCGIfgOWZOPYur0FX31WdDMIkcb6JJiGXsAvNm4DoTpaKReZ6PTV_TZnyTeZvPy1Hz39MwKXnPwPayhGuCq8JyRXf/s400/DSC_0054.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The break away arrived</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 18.6666660308838px; line-height: 21.4666652679443px;">No one who could threaten the main GC riders was in the breakaway, so we know that a few minutes later, the peloton, with all our favourites, would arrive.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTz-7NTACslhEXvfvbZbefGrVXO4tYs6DJGgokQN_J_yuVUOL88icbcytdPGPOYLk6JSr1kpZZBfU39H0ANy7P8KC08SGecWRuKMl_NPlv6E7oHe1-BpuSyWSzjO42DZWRHOGUKgcM5uPk/s1600/DSC_0061.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTz-7NTACslhEXvfvbZbefGrVXO4tYs6DJGgokQN_J_yuVUOL88icbcytdPGPOYLk6JSr1kpZZBfU39H0ANy7P8KC08SGecWRuKMl_NPlv6E7oHe1-BpuSyWSzjO42DZWRHOGUKgcM5uPk/s640/DSC_0061.JPG" width="586" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...and then the peloton....Froome in yellow, behind the Sky team.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 115%;">We had a great view of them, as they sped past us….not
too fast, as we had expected. Sky was in control of the peloton, leading the
way into Massat, with yellow jersey Christopher Froome tucked safely behind
them, being protected by his team.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This was the
day that Froome had urine thrown at him. We did not hear about that until
later. It does seem that the reporting of Le Tour questions how “clean” Froome
and the Sky team are. Some Brits, of course, consider it to be just that the
French never win anymore, and whoever is winning, or seems strongest these days
is going to be criticised. I suspect it’s a bit more complicated than that, and
after the years of Armstrong’s dreadful behaviour …not just taking the drugs,
but the cruel and damaging denial that went with it for so many years….there
will always be questions about outstanding performances. Froome’s performance
has been outstanding.He is amazing. I believe, and hope that Sky’s brilliance has been that
they have been one step ahead of others as far as the psychology, the science
and the technology of cycling goes. I believed that when Wiggins was the hero, and now I think that Froome is just a superbly trained and honed athlete. I really do hope I'm right !<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4oIQJpfFteeYcSn06lLa3fJ3EPdDCiE_DVI-5h1QZn4eUcSngBtUaKg6psaAU0CdPAbOYuWAF0rtQgsrHL3zoec4-yw68UohEo1YWp8uRui8Fn7GDuUpkbxnSLPBakBuRuKHxrlEhUdIO/s1600/Froomey.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4oIQJpfFteeYcSn06lLa3fJ3EPdDCiE_DVI-5h1QZn4eUcSngBtUaKg6psaAU0CdPAbOYuWAF0rtQgsrHL3zoec4-yw68UohEo1YWp8uRui8Fn7GDuUpkbxnSLPBakBuRuKHxrlEhUdIO/s400/Froomey.jpg" width="351" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A great photo of Froome...provided by Steve....not sure whether he took it, or Verity did, I missed him completely, but for a change, after I had captured one image of the peloton's arrival I decided to watch the race itself rather than through the camera lens. </td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Anyway…..once
again, being part of Le Tour has been a great experience. Sharing it with
friends, as we did last year in Carcassonne, was a great way to do it. Who
knows what we’ll do next year….there’s talk of Paris………Oh to see a Mark
Cavendish win on the Champs Elysees! </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
Janicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05449652020751269674noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-926851391080970240.post-84365510310363168772015-07-14T14:02:00.001+01:002015-07-14T14:04:45.641+01:00Lazy blogging<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Despite best intentions, my blogging directions are still pretty vague. I know I want to keep blogging, and following others.....but I just don't seem to get around to either writing, or reading much at the moment. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So, this is another catch up sort of blog, continuing what has been a kind of diary for me over the last 3 years. It all feels very predictable...the rhythms of the year, the vide greniers at the same venues on the same weekend each year, the cherry trees ripening, and the cherry conserve making, the cigales starting to accompany every hot afternoon......the arrival of les hirondelles.....and the blue blue skies.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We had to return to England for a couple of weeks at the end of June, for my regular hospital check up ( all is well ! ). We took advantage of some lovely English weather, and spent several days with the grandchildren. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyOrOyYVFjgq-f25a5jkSd7w00eOUqqfaA536SDEuQKf42tqq9LEwHwSIaWVoN4QOBWmnzKnK3QlVAB-HKsbtHsz0Xm7N7m5I3_Krga8pB7y-1CgndR7rHVrlTuCEkpS7_nQI9Asyg2bVV/s1600/IMG_3404.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyOrOyYVFjgq-f25a5jkSd7w00eOUqqfaA536SDEuQKf42tqq9LEwHwSIaWVoN4QOBWmnzKnK3QlVAB-HKsbtHsz0Xm7N7m5I3_Krga8pB7y-1CgndR7rHVrlTuCEkpS7_nQI9Asyg2bVV/s400/IMG_3404.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Izzie and Flynn</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I worked a couple of shifts at the Hospice shop, and enjoyed seeing some of my favourite volunteers, staff and customers.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiISVLDn3m90PvMK_Uc5H0bzoWK3jB1Gkrk_AWvC7IYJ8pjlD87qHrxO0MVRCQbE9BM7lKw6LahrtLq1BQofjxraqHP9gM2yBf8kll90mm27uXNCSzHAHYHZrPjexBl4TgxePlQdt_IavGm/s1600/FullSizeRender+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiISVLDn3m90PvMK_Uc5H0bzoWK3jB1Gkrk_AWvC7IYJ8pjlD87qHrxO0MVRCQbE9BM7lKw6LahrtLq1BQofjxraqHP9gM2yBf8kll90mm27uXNCSzHAHYHZrPjexBl4TgxePlQdt_IavGm/s320/FullSizeRender+%25281%2529.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">With Georgie at the Overgate Hospice shop</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> We mooched, as it is by far the best thing to do, in our lovely Hebden Bridge, and then we spent some time in Liverpool with Jess, who ran an amazing personal best time 10K in a Race for Life event in Sefton Park. It was exactly 2 years since she ran her first ever race, a 5K Race for Life, when I removed my wig for the first time, following my chemotherapy.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqo_YmdJkHaU07ejmg1at8kjFCUXeTM5rd8dRfwOa-QJGB5G_OFShkNBsfuz8KSxG9Kg8C8rHAdV-PMiLaes4YA3NTPbeIg6WHY-DZ7Na5_M9lb7fe0QPh6r0qIaYTs4C7vjVowex4biG4/s1600/IMG_3686.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqo_YmdJkHaU07ejmg1at8kjFCUXeTM5rd8dRfwOa-QJGB5G_OFShkNBsfuz8KSxG9Kg8C8rHAdV-PMiLaes4YA3NTPbeIg6WHY-DZ7Na5_M9lb7fe0QPh6r0qIaYTs4C7vjVowex4biG4/s320/IMG_3686.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2 photos, 2 years apart......</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Back in Caunes again, and the summer has really got underway. Le Tour has started....into the Pyrenees today....we're going into the mountains tomorrow,to get our first ever view of a mountain stage. Les Venderedis Classiques concerts in Caunes have started, It's feu d'artifice in Carcassonne tonight, to celebrate le quatorze.....and its hot ! It has been over 30 degrees every day for ages, no rain for 5 or 6 weeks, and our figs have already started to turn purple.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ3a7j1RuGG9sjd5DHZmlXHDizTuVSvizOeT_AuJJRXcR9n06IZ6iH-Y8u69ZfUokVwqYGLdeKH5Maw4SZ_E4-qlDriznPglvwrj81Nq8HStjDe6p9SjK2jaYWH3haS8A-EYPienHoPNLr/s1600/FullSizeRender.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ3a7j1RuGG9sjd5DHZmlXHDizTuVSvizOeT_AuJJRXcR9n06IZ6iH-Y8u69ZfUokVwqYGLdeKH5Maw4SZ_E4-qlDriznPglvwrj81Nq8HStjDe6p9SjK2jaYWH3haS8A-EYPienHoPNLr/s400/FullSizeRender.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Opera in the grounds of Caunes Abbey</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So...all is well. We have no visitors for another 2 weeks, then lots of visitors for the duration of the school holidays. It will be good to see the grandchildren again, and to watch how their swimming and treasure hunting skills have developed since last summer.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC0P7xwfV3rHY00DrSlLXigdR9URKD9WpyAFe5xa58Tdr5u1KbBuA_e5vGOmxcHccY5o34eP8mebav-dHjOYcfaqius3VYhZe1DxXYIf1lzxkjcjvF2YPwylGIEjw6aOd7JgH5y_fT-DJg/s1600/IMG_3337.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC0P7xwfV3rHY00DrSlLXigdR9URKD9WpyAFe5xa58Tdr5u1KbBuA_e5vGOmxcHccY5o34eP8mebav-dHjOYcfaqius3VYhZe1DxXYIf1lzxkjcjvF2YPwylGIEjw6aOd7JgH5y_fT-DJg/s320/IMG_3337.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mark & Clark</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSlWS88L5trgQFTsVkUM-C1cGqLa566bl249RWMsjl4R5qrdgaw8jlE6yKCObVcHL9cR64lqWJFKgNk6-fvcZOkK890FgdH-Nc64pZPexmO3dfTfstB0OF6bFhO4cbX8TmfbrgW-wsuCj6/s1600/IMG_3571.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSlWS88L5trgQFTsVkUM-C1cGqLa566bl249RWMsjl4R5qrdgaw8jlE6yKCObVcHL9cR64lqWJFKgNk6-fvcZOkK890FgdH-Nc64pZPexmO3dfTfstB0OF6bFhO4cbX8TmfbrgW-wsuCj6/s320/IMG_3571.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Liam</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So, that is it, our very lovely life continues to jog along, meanwhile Greece totters, benefits are reduced for the poorest in the UK, migrants continue to risk all to arrive in our part of the world, Scott Walker, from Wisconsin, seeks the Republican nomination for the Presidential race, alongside wanting guns to be more easily available for American citizens, Tories want to ease regulations re fox hunting and people are not travelling abroad on holiday because of terrorism fears.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I feel very lucky. All is well in my personal world, and being cocooned in this lovely place, with so much to enjoy and look forward to, sometimes seems very unfair. On the plus side, it is wonderful to be able to share it with our family and friends who come to visit. </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyESCjbB_HpJEc6r15J9yByb_tmXJVHZ09bAxxqZI6cMysfSPdxjmMvFm53I3JH_n7NAfh4idIz1GKpIrBiAKhbZlhm2a6RlRrsCpf2HjjNaHPcOal5wgfLquY26CqvbF42w-nB-C_OJsX/s1600/P1030095.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyESCjbB_HpJEc6r15J9yByb_tmXJVHZ09bAxxqZI6cMysfSPdxjmMvFm53I3JH_n7NAfh4idIz1GKpIrBiAKhbZlhm2a6RlRrsCpf2HjjNaHPcOal5wgfLquY26CqvbF42w-nB-C_OJsX/s640/P1030095.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">How well will they all be able to swim this year ?</td></tr>
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Janicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05449652020751269674noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-926851391080970240.post-22213454144751672352015-05-31T07:47:00.000+01:002015-05-31T07:47:31.837+01:00Barcelona, briefly. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">From Parc Guell, overlooking the city</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Our 3 nights in Barcelona were lovely. The weather was perfect, the hotel ( whilst accommodating us in some very small, but high ceilinged rooms) was perfectly located, and we managed a great combination of exploring and mooching from coffee stop to ice cream stop to wine ( and some excellent gin) and food stops. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It began with the TGV from Narbonne, meaning we had no worry about car parking or driving around Barcelona. The top speed it reached, just before Figueras was 301 kms an hour. The rest of the journey was a little more leisurely, but the whole journey took just 2 hours. So, we arrived in the city, relaxed and ready for adventure.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mark and Steve, walking faster than Jane and I, on la rambla.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Over the next few days we strolled along the ramblas, we walked on the beach, we paddled in the sea ( well, some of us did ), we marvelled at the Gothic area, revisited past haunts ( the marina for Jane and Steve, where they kept a boat, a few years ago, and various spots we remembered taking Jess when she was 6 months old ), and of course, took in plenty of Gaudi.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3xQ6GalfKYH06-EnU8Ux0SXlweN6IlDZfytZv0uJOSE9A9WF11kQjgFx1iXhjnhsY8ErUmVSyaZmth-173Oec2zC3Jti0FnghovhtmqquWGR7KbmNFoC3n7seXSsDCI0zoiWOeGLCm_eZ/s1600/P1060238.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3xQ6GalfKYH06-EnU8Ux0SXlweN6IlDZfytZv0uJOSE9A9WF11kQjgFx1iXhjnhsY8ErUmVSyaZmth-173Oec2zC3Jti0FnghovhtmqquWGR7KbmNFoC3n7seXSsDCI0zoiWOeGLCm_eZ/s400/P1060238.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cannot believe I went on this 23 years ago. I was much braver then.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Rather than waxing lyrically about all we saw, I have selected a few photos to try to sum it all up.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWq7S8YhiNDqgkjg9-xt-1MrBzI9TF4c38fvVb8MyeTyQGKegy_MiV7zDqhfrALdNm5tav3nB-K6iOOOWY7HrL2TkCp3arov-8cNZk-olsENQlk6JFcygMcySUE6BfT9eD3-ATPGMyFsCj/s1600/IMG_2584.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWq7S8YhiNDqgkjg9-xt-1MrBzI9TF4c38fvVb8MyeTyQGKegy_MiV7zDqhfrALdNm5tav3nB-K6iOOOWY7HrL2TkCp3arov-8cNZk-olsENQlk6JFcygMcySUE6BfT9eD3-ATPGMyFsCj/s400/IMG_2584.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me, not doing heights very well, on the rooftops of Gaudi's "La Pedrera"</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdzc1scn-x-8cCYvv8EAjUtVV7LfUehiOpZE5B9z3_X6M0MR6B70CB0OuzYiJXeuTClT3ArZIfFMtG1EKCvQe8wQJPRcdv_CpuP_kUg7UxlvTGNs-UcJAlW6uSYqSVVMJHEvCQ6tJZCUK3/s1600/P1060234.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdzc1scn-x-8cCYvv8EAjUtVV7LfUehiOpZE5B9z3_X6M0MR6B70CB0OuzYiJXeuTClT3ArZIfFMtG1EKCvQe8wQJPRcdv_CpuP_kUg7UxlvTGNs-UcJAlW6uSYqSVVMJHEvCQ6tJZCUK3/s400/P1060234.JPG" width="360" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Remembering Jess in a push chair, in this square.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Parc Guell</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6MhWLCR3e7vrD3bc3KSApggsNxY04Z52hQtS-u-y789ODvOx01iDcjzvTZsck70M8JBclzY-n8c3YGlPLxz6FqfQoQRYA-hB7xQ7tYft8iRjbuWR0UlQvjTPny_xIS12sOt7hzdobiRsa/s1600/IMG_2550.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6MhWLCR3e7vrD3bc3KSApggsNxY04Z52hQtS-u-y789ODvOx01iDcjzvTZsck70M8JBclzY-n8c3YGlPLxz6FqfQoQRYA-hB7xQ7tYft8iRjbuWR0UlQvjTPny_xIS12sOt7hzdobiRsa/s640/IMG_2550.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Parc Guell</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTKbZxOhbpDKyMRm2SYeWfB0epjl6WQY7f2Ed6NBKpOXjGhtUMy-i1qYzzWgY7LdOvgrLlMLscowT0YCA79PNr63juqb0bYKOG0fVKFwC5TsfWGUHiAkCtMKLAFQRRcxHudJXDo58T_mj7/s1600/IMG_2658.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTKbZxOhbpDKyMRm2SYeWfB0epjl6WQY7f2Ed6NBKpOXjGhtUMy-i1qYzzWgY7LdOvgrLlMLscowT0YCA79PNr63juqb0bYKOG0fVKFwC5TsfWGUHiAkCtMKLAFQRRcxHudJXDo58T_mj7/s640/IMG_2658.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Sagrada Familia..... had to hold my tongue when I overheard a mother telling her children that the cranes were cleaning it, so it all looked as clean as the white bits....to return it to how it looked when it was built in 1830..... aggghhhh ! The teacher in me wanted to put them right......but in true Frozen style I "...let it go "</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Casa Batllo<br /><br /></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Finally, just to prove, we did sit down from time to time:</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Those gins were very large, and very good.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>Janicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05449652020751269674noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-926851391080970240.post-27203305631485285772015-05-22T13:12:00.002+01:002015-05-22T13:12:07.465+01:00With knobs on<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We have been back in Caunes for just over a week. I am still contemplating how I want my blog to develop, without just repeating the annual pattern of what happens in our lives, shared between Yorkshire and the Minervois. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">However, I haven't got very far with my contemplation . I have been too busy.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">When we first saw our house in Caunes, back in May 2011, our agent, Paoula, warned us we would hate the decor inside, and she was showing us the house because she thought we needed a good view.....and there is no doubt that we have a wonderful view over Caunes and onwards to the mountains.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We actually liked the decor, with a few minor exceptions.... the pink bathroom had to go !</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I distinctly recall Paoula warning us about the kitchen.....awful dark wood, nasty tiles and....the "urine coloured sink".....those were her exact words. I thought at the time it was a strange approach for someone trying to sell us the house.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Anyway...we loved the house, and really were not offended by the urine coloured sink. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">For 3 years I have enjoyed my French kitchen, but gradually, some of its charm began to wear thin. Last summer I decided to steam clean the work surfaces.....which were made of small tiles.....with grouting between them. For 3 years I had cleaned the tiles meticulously, or so I thought. The steam cleaning process showed up an incredible amount of grime. I wondered how we had all not died of poisoning when I thought of all the food that had been prepared on those surfaces.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So, that was it. While we were back in Yorkshire this winter, we had a new granite work surface installed, the grotty wall tiles replaced, and, while we were at it, we had a new sink put in, replacing Paoula's unrine coloured one. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We talked about getting a whole new kitchen put in, but basically, I liked the layout, and the units were decent quality, and solid wood, albeit a bit dark and dated. So, the plan was that we would paint all the cupboards.......which we have now done.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Using the amazing Annie Sloan paint was great. No preparation required, just slap it on, it's dry within an hour, get a second coat on, and then apply the wax to give it a sheen and to make it more durable as it was in a kitchen. The kitchen is quite large, and has a dozen double cupboards, and a large dresser, so it was quite a big task to take on.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> I managed all the painting myself, over 2 days, but needed Mark's help with the waxing. That was exhausting !</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It was a moment of great satisfaction, when we finally screwed in the final new door knob.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I am delighted with the finished kitchen and really would recommend Annie Sloan paint. It goes a long way. I bought 5 litres for the kitchen, and have only used 2, so now, anything that is standing still is likely to be Annie Sloaned.</span><br />
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<br />Janicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05449652020751269674noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-926851391080970240.post-84711686182356293682015-04-28T13:49:00.001+01:002015-04-28T13:49:09.741+01:00I believe the Peaky Blinders were at Aintree<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I went to Aintree to see the Grand National this year. I
have already “talked” with Ayak about it....I suffered all kinds of guilt
pangs. I don’t approve, it’s awful, .....but, I love most sporting occasions, and I
love doing things with my daughter Jess, who lives in Liverpool......and Jess
thought it would be a good day out !</div>
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So, guilt was put to one side, apologies expressed to Ayak,
and I went to Aintree.</div>
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A champagne breakfast at Jess and Matty’s flat was followed
by a walk into town to get the train to Aintree. Getting in and out of Aintree
was incredibly well organised. It did not go unnoticed that it was a week
before the anniversary of Hillsborough, and it is very clear that safety,
getting huge crowds in and out of the course was a very high priority.</div>
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The crowds were enormous, and amazingly dressed. I saw
higher heels, fancier hats and more gorgeous dresses than at any other sporting
venue I have ever attended. I understand the dreadful Daily Mail did a piece on
Scouse girls fashions, showing drunken, tasteless images.....I saw none of
that. I don’t know where they found their images. I saw young women wearing
beautiful outfits, with stunning hair and make-up.....all glammed up, intending
to have a good time. Most of the men wore suits, and it was clear everyone wanted to enjoy themselves. Everyone was friendly, smiling, happy, and the atmosphere
all afternoon was exciting, and never anything but joyful.</div>
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My only other horse racing experience was in Carcassonne
last year. That was very low key, and I really enjoyed it. This was something
else ! I wasn’t nearly as close to the actual racing as I had been in
Carcassonne, but it was actually the crowds that fascinated me the most.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I didn't hear their accents.....but I was pretty convinced the Peaky Blinders had come up from the Midlands....I should point out, there was no evidence of razor blades in those caps.</td></tr>
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I still have lots of misgivings about the whole event. Apart
from the distress to horses, which must exist, even though the jumps are now
not as outrageous as they used to be......the money involved in it all seemed
out of all proportion with normal life.</div>
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£50 was the cheapest entry.....( that was us ), no seats for
that, just the ability to stand anywhere in the ground ( except for the bits
where you clearly had to pay much much more to enter ). The prize money at
stake for the winners, trainers, owners etc is craziness. However, it was the
rows of bookies, lined up by the course, taking bets ( incredibly efficiently,
I must say), that really shocked me. They were all dealing in cash, and just
had wads and wads of it, stashed in their hands, pockets, security boxes etc. I
cannot imagine how much money changed hands during the afternoon.</div>
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Despite it all, I have to admit that I did enjoy it all
though. We laughed, we bet, we won some, we lost some, and we enjoyed the
spectacle.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjYtinD4-Ao4u2WQrkE6rnZhWnQcrRTtoytlBZtGvMmh_nnth9SgPXUR_5q8mgSL64G5IxgsyzAGwBlMElVjStirh6yG4GwVtSi8JSyQi3pBl6A3aALFR9k96HKOM36tVmZYnz_Ok7Xg9A/s1600/P1060202.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjYtinD4-Ao4u2WQrkE6rnZhWnQcrRTtoytlBZtGvMmh_nnth9SgPXUR_5q8mgSL64G5IxgsyzAGwBlMElVjStirh6yG4GwVtSi8JSyQi3pBl6A3aALFR9k96HKOM36tVmZYnz_Ok7Xg9A/s1600/P1060202.JPG" height="640" width="635" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">AP McCoy's last Grand National, riding "Shut the front door"</td></tr>
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We cheered AP McCoy as he paraded by, we shouted along with the
crowds as our horses led or fell behind. We gasped along with everyone else
when a horse fell, and cheered when they got up again.</div>
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Finally, we left, gently and safely led back to the trains,
which were every 7 minutes. </div>
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Would I go again ? Maybe....but I would want to be able to
sit down. I think I’m getting too old to be able to stand for hours on end in a
large crowd. I will certainly go to the races again in Carcassonne, where the
colours, the atmosphere and the beauty of the horses will be on show. There
won’t be the razzamatzz of Aintree, and I don’t think I’ll wear my fascinator
in Carcassonne ! I don’t suppose there'll be any Peaky Blinders there either.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrl1aExQE1DAmitGyrYQ90YLP3bTrJYCUaRxAkl2fnhNU1jOaoI-X5xkRWEcbX_gHL_JmBNODV8zbejLSX3gAQqcTBlv_BKMixVuGGl8MRdSlZqiUStA8xVshIGeUYIi702QnxzQEaiJrP/s1600/P1060208.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrl1aExQE1DAmitGyrYQ90YLP3bTrJYCUaRxAkl2fnhNU1jOaoI-X5xkRWEcbX_gHL_JmBNODV8zbejLSX3gAQqcTBlv_BKMixVuGGl8MRdSlZqiUStA8xVshIGeUYIi702QnxzQEaiJrP/s1600/P1060208.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jess's heels proved too high for the journey home.....many women wore flip flops that were being given out free of charge, as they left the arena !<br /><br /></td></tr>
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Janicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05449652020751269674noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-926851391080970240.post-40286655755854173232015-03-13T12:31:00.000+00:002015-03-13T13:24:03.643+00:00The same....but different, or at least it will be.<div class="MsoNormal">
We’ve been in Caunes for 11 days, and we return to Yorkshire
tomorrow. </div>
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The plan was to spend some time in the garden, pruning and spring
planting, and to check out some of the work we have had done in the house over
the winter. ( That includes having gates fitted to the drive). We were also looking forward to catching up with friends, and
hopefully enjoying a bit more warmth than has been around in Yorkshire
recently.<o:p></o:p></div>
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We have had a brilliant 11 days. Everything we needed to do
has been done….weeding, planting, mulching, painting the downstairs loo, painting
the kitchen walls, trialing various Annie Sloan colours on the kitchen
cupboards, ready for the major painting job in May, car has been control
techniqued ( MOT equivalent), Mark has played golf 3 times, been for a couple
of fairly serious bike rides and we have spent time with friends, as intended. Also....there has been some glorious spring weather. days of blue skies, warm sunshine and the smell of almond blossom.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I realise that whilst wanting to blog from Caunes, it would
be very easy to rewrite previous first visit of the year posts, and we are now
in our 4<sup>th</sup> year here. I take the same photos every year, I repeatedly
go on about how lovely the village is
and how great the views are. I could easily fill a post with thoughts of almond blossom and wild irises, but I have decided I want to post some different things this year. </div>
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I need to put some thought into what I want my blog to become. I'm not sure what that means yet, but I'm going to make a start here.<o:p></o:p></div>
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So....no photos of almond blossom and glimpses of the abbey from our terrace.</div>
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Different things...this time.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEdwmWF-1GufgrzZlvZgxc7fwoIpTS6UDf9XnOIZTMwvbREtyswX7U1t2hj30828kLYaHZhrkkGzzrFVdzKQpFcVamwEiMuTl_ldqMu4d2xCgs6FsDcdelKWIEE_SY53Zk6XeWPKrj7fb3/s1600/FullSizeRender+(12).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEdwmWF-1GufgrzZlvZgxc7fwoIpTS6UDf9XnOIZTMwvbREtyswX7U1t2hj30828kLYaHZhrkkGzzrFVdzKQpFcVamwEiMuTl_ldqMu4d2xCgs6FsDcdelKWIEE_SY53Zk6XeWPKrj7fb3/s1600/FullSizeRender+(12).jpg" height="640" width="630" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A truffle auction in Villeneuve......we've never done that before ! This little lump of tastiness went for 80 euros.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA6UbKLei_nhcZ3r2KY9QOLKdodYSeqJw7efhEcKqB8YxQf9JpY9wojUlNzEE1HgjjlyiEpPT5EofMp3BjbDzOoALcyC1fYLlvv2_AvEoXh3tJYLB3udXSIaOcI5HWBStN2Wjwseb4J_2A/s1600/1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA6UbKLei_nhcZ3r2KY9QOLKdodYSeqJw7efhEcKqB8YxQf9JpY9wojUlNzEE1HgjjlyiEpPT5EofMp3BjbDzOoALcyC1fYLlvv2_AvEoXh3tJYLB3udXSIaOcI5HWBStN2Wjwseb4J_2A/s1600/1.jpg" height="307" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Meeting of our cafe des langues group....at our house instead of in the bar. Most people posing for the photo...Mark and Jean Claude continuing to discuss some burning issue.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWMG1Ex-Z6EaiVHwvaSJ2yBmh8x4P6NF_2o9OCu-xZffXkML5kpSp08bH4Kr9HxN1OuEOkVJLoGULI2_iuLL7sfdVvlOWSr3CdOyqxckBqQ7bPR40dj7whOdIJ4ZhDovaptT3ZoUsVkiYB/s1600/IMG_1092.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWMG1Ex-Z6EaiVHwvaSJ2yBmh8x4P6NF_2o9OCu-xZffXkML5kpSp08bH4Kr9HxN1OuEOkVJLoGULI2_iuLL7sfdVvlOWSr3CdOyqxckBqQ7bPR40dj7whOdIJ4ZhDovaptT3ZoUsVkiYB/s1600/IMG_1092.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">ok....we've been to the Limoux Carnaval before, but I've never been covered in confetti before when we've been there.<br />
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Spending time with friends has been important this time...it has featured before, but it has been the real highlight of this trip. No doubt, sipping coffee ( or wine) in various cafes with good friends will continue to be important.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKk6Ncfm9kR8F4jPXaoBZIYMqy2VyMPAdqv8JiGd9hyDjy-f6jfgFTYbWBLY9Hwn2vf3XznkCoAe4V0gS5LxesIAtpfVEIsns_WLBCiwgKyw9IqwM7Q4MQJ67X6t6rGZymO1Fw4jEjzPel/s1600/FullSizeRender+(13).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKk6Ncfm9kR8F4jPXaoBZIYMqy2VyMPAdqv8JiGd9hyDjy-f6jfgFTYbWBLY9Hwn2vf3XznkCoAe4V0gS5LxesIAtpfVEIsns_WLBCiwgKyw9IqwM7Q4MQJ67X6t6rGZymO1Fw4jEjzPel/s1600/FullSizeRender+(13).jpg" height="271" width="400" /></a></div>
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Back to Hebden Bridge tomorrow, safe in the knowledge that we will be back in Caunes in about 6 weeks time....and then, we'll be staying put for 6 months. By then, I'll have decided how I'm going to develop my blogging.</div>
Janicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05449652020751269674noreply@blogger.com30tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-926851391080970240.post-25733853345772448852015-02-25T11:47:00.001+00:002015-02-25T11:47:08.150+00:00Hair.....Just for a laugh, and a bit of self indulgence:<br />
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For my 60th birthday party daughter Jess complied a timeline of my haircuts......here is a small selection !<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1wWCG-jT4lnLoal3rm9GYU4AVmEsY50SneicrkfoRsmE2QLZs10UCvdFDF-p0CfK90lNJRSFm2i0tfadrPRNUgvkqApFFqfETQtSJVZDkhh83vgH2a3786Rw6UVbDd9VnCNxbVqIwrNyB/s1600/JJ&K.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1wWCG-jT4lnLoal3rm9GYU4AVmEsY50SneicrkfoRsmE2QLZs10UCvdFDF-p0CfK90lNJRSFm2i0tfadrPRNUgvkqApFFqfETQtSJVZDkhh83vgH2a3786Rw6UVbDd9VnCNxbVqIwrNyB/s1600/JJ&K.jpg" height="320" width="254" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Comments aren't really needed for pudding basin cuts.......why did our mothers do this to us ?</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWYxhsRtd8TYhq6ymGj7hm8Fbfwf6YaSa_aN_7EFG6OdSYSLGtm6zbOXGJddMH6xZRTTM34hC1yFXKbxaOs3dXG-sjifpteWElU_84OOEpKClKVHSBJFzTUfKLYZJ_bbcHje7mVKA2QbPA/s1600/6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWYxhsRtd8TYhq6ymGj7hm8Fbfwf6YaSa_aN_7EFG6OdSYSLGtm6zbOXGJddMH6xZRTTM34hC1yFXKbxaOs3dXG-sjifpteWElU_84OOEpKClKVHSBJFzTUfKLYZJ_bbcHje7mVKA2QbPA/s1600/6.jpg" height="320" width="236" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hair bands.....and the kids in matching granny knit jumpers</td></tr>
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<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1wWCG-jT4lnLoal3rm9GYU4AVmEsY50SneicrkfoRsmE2QLZs10UCvdFDF-p0CfK90lNJRSFm2i0tfadrPRNUgvkqApFFqfETQtSJVZDkhh83vgH2a3786Rw6UVbDd9VnCNxbVqIwrNyB/s1600/JJ&K.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> </a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheTEGs6_lwEQ6347B9PaPvbhlbaPxVI7VzmbQXHlf38EUnhd-pMb1i1H_a1XO89He7lA3Pn74grQtpDjOyLn5TpXABcKpID-HmA3VZFfbZ-rypqPlWREUaPj8yI5LXne-nMXuiM_NXr4Cl/s1600/Table+football+Xmas+67.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheTEGs6_lwEQ6347B9PaPvbhlbaPxVI7VzmbQXHlf38EUnhd-pMb1i1H_a1XO89He7lA3Pn74grQtpDjOyLn5TpXABcKpID-HmA3VZFfbZ-rypqPlWREUaPj8yI5LXne-nMXuiM_NXr4Cl/s1600/Table+football+Xmas+67.jpg" height="207" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiBsW6sb1HG9aV5pjBpEY1hp2r616bVrYctHETpldETAAxQ9q-I54ysTqnzHoUxCLt35J0gT4JrQ81QenIEtzYUhpZPQjjsiYkbPAdXyJYgkXKTpUni0MiH_xAuAx5qQNkToGO_2LcfS_A/s1600/July+69.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiBsW6sb1HG9aV5pjBpEY1hp2r616bVrYctHETpldETAAxQ9q-I54ysTqnzHoUxCLt35J0gT4JrQ81QenIEtzYUhpZPQjjsiYkbPAdXyJYgkXKTpUni0MiH_xAuAx5qQNkToGO_2LcfS_A/s1600/July+69.jpg" height="200" width="183" /></a></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I adored that dress...bought with my first Saturday job wage. I earned 27/6d for a day working at Stead and Simpsons in Hendon. I think the dress cost £1.19/.6d, so mum lent me the rest. This was 1970....I was 15.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhFnwzdAuNjfCh0wbLbevwBY0uhpKI6O0mOIm3UbH5zoFjA-bnmUUQVrYFK1zUvG2X-_Ztx3vx3XZefKst4zXtuG3sAr2xSDIT5NjpLiozPZgUsWOEsUdvPqxaUZuItMqt7oAba9WvidjH/s1600/more+Jess+006.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhFnwzdAuNjfCh0wbLbevwBY0uhpKI6O0mOIm3UbH5zoFjA-bnmUUQVrYFK1zUvG2X-_Ztx3vx3XZefKst4zXtuG3sAr2xSDIT5NjpLiozPZgUsWOEsUdvPqxaUZuItMqt7oAba9WvidjH/s1600/more+Jess+006.jpg" height="200" width="138" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My American Lit lecturer just informing me that his zip had broken in his trousers</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglLw3VRgOAzJu8GLFICGLGR1DSW3_zs7TF3LanAFiIbvDb0GSedQuxMgM2MAZE-g50tkjVTiwi5ATBEUtCyEHFaxTJlxQcWTOzCyiscTNZYx1kk3Uboj8jRo6FtXFSdftv6tNU1Dsng20y/s1600/file+pics+002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglLw3VRgOAzJu8GLFICGLGR1DSW3_zs7TF3LanAFiIbvDb0GSedQuxMgM2MAZE-g50tkjVTiwi5ATBEUtCyEHFaxTJlxQcWTOzCyiscTNZYx1kk3Uboj8jRo6FtXFSdftv6tNU1Dsng20y/s1600/file+pics+002.jpg" height="321" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me.....a very suntanned teacher....just returned from a US holiday.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPb9p_wLAYxXwBC9HHoXlnDdtNdKZE2KyMMBOpuZtaTZmeiXtV8lIqvCFvGWpICVN3MByN-xrN-Sz1SaZ7RMMd4g_4vZ7nLxX8mW0TnCRAQr5joReGM_FzlMTEQevxxw8Q6C7F0kGBWSc-/s1600/class5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPb9p_wLAYxXwBC9HHoXlnDdtNdKZE2KyMMBOpuZtaTZmeiXtV8lIqvCFvGWpICVN3MByN-xrN-Sz1SaZ7RMMd4g_4vZ7nLxX8mW0TnCRAQr5joReGM_FzlMTEQevxxw8Q6C7F0kGBWSc-/s1600/class5.jpg" height="206" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Another teacher pose....with my Sheboygan High class.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKyLn3QkXQj2BCu_I9Jtm2hm8mgyPoBZuoXG0pAK9jugMf2lKTQBAC3yGxdPkLhqUtMxSEyjn2Altd0N3siUDk3kiEjLh3sAaLcbNV3A-C5xKxwU6sLu_u7zQ1XzU980AfcOrMjTwcEOC6/s1600/19.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKyLn3QkXQj2BCu_I9Jtm2hm8mgyPoBZuoXG0pAK9jugMf2lKTQBAC3yGxdPkLhqUtMxSEyjn2Altd0N3siUDk3kiEjLh3sAaLcbNV3A-C5xKxwU6sLu_u7zQ1XzU980AfcOrMjTwcEOC6/s1600/19.jpg" height="400" width="303" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My first visit to Venice.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZRz3EFqxg1lg3-ZUdkQWIJJMdc9-juSOZ_Cht7mq_8QJsHytSVE6Idf7UH0wCIoyygebphqxc6H6TwySf0FoKek6PRHrLVbFCwDrJei5HiI7nd2FgLvpgGjsuWTjuF1IN9YJwxlxwgtKs/s1600/Kevin+archive+027.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZRz3EFqxg1lg3-ZUdkQWIJJMdc9-juSOZ_Cht7mq_8QJsHytSVE6Idf7UH0wCIoyygebphqxc6H6TwySf0FoKek6PRHrLVbFCwDrJei5HiI7nd2FgLvpgGjsuWTjuF1IN9YJwxlxwgtKs/s1600/Kevin+archive+027.jpg" height="247" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I'm on the left, wearing one of my mother's dresses, which I absolutely loved and wish I still had.....although as it would never fit in a million years, perhaps it is best that I don't still have it.</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtQ7A4KZT2LvEURTa1BaUM551aFDL-cCwCuEpt9bpNE_hpjJtvvwgSGKMHrwJuI4EUmtomu6Du9O1cuOfZLtJRPAw424rNF5jn5mF0V1dHj71VgXH9Lt5IrbU-8mvnERcROo-dkTPfN5nO/s1600/more+Jess+004.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtQ7A4KZT2LvEURTa1BaUM551aFDL-cCwCuEpt9bpNE_hpjJtvvwgSGKMHrwJuI4EUmtomu6Du9O1cuOfZLtJRPAw424rNF5jn5mF0V1dHj71VgXH9Lt5IrbU-8mvnERcROo-dkTPfN5nO/s1600/more+Jess+004.jpg" height="320" width="272" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFHcBprP1ZsKoMkR6lOX0ELLS4soqp2xSQzhWlqV2kmyaSKA6Q0oZnmW8H3zo3Sni4Luv7y6pHgt3dFJTYMHd2AxYkebf2lTuprN3ycENWwwXWwnqzpzVmnCIZg2TBKtnXFvOXYGFKDmtM/s1600/more+Jess+002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFHcBprP1ZsKoMkR6lOX0ELLS4soqp2xSQzhWlqV2kmyaSKA6Q0oZnmW8H3zo3Sni4Luv7y6pHgt3dFJTYMHd2AxYkebf2lTuprN3ycENWwwXWwnqzpzVmnCIZg2TBKtnXFvOXYGFKDmtM/s1600/more+Jess+002.jpg" height="320" width="211" /></a></div>
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I had to get rid of the frizz and dead ends after Jess was born</div>
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but never mind about my hair.....what about Marks ? </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNpNj_wvDpu3Qq-kLg1yq2pXyLV9loGv3jqk6QUybB8ZRdsaxWmm1xKW-oIoovCoS8DdTJQ6lBLx2zXSkKrjot5y8Qtv3ju1HcRL5JraHMZ-VIsdXAd2ymvbnhmMecX79c1dqs-7-_4FGt/s1600/22.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNpNj_wvDpu3Qq-kLg1yq2pXyLV9loGv3jqk6QUybB8ZRdsaxWmm1xKW-oIoovCoS8DdTJQ6lBLx2zXSkKrjot5y8Qtv3ju1HcRL5JraHMZ-VIsdXAd2ymvbnhmMecX79c1dqs-7-_4FGt/s1600/22.jpg" height="231" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I went back to being dark for a while. If you are taking notice here, you will see that I, too, used a pudding basin on my daughter. Sorry Jess...it's a mother thing.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaYYh5fepz64PJ9Ru2P6DsmbCzQE7nj95t43lmrpQJJlNtgvCrtBJfwCJWaiN1TaBjHwH0EyihHIOerlAVrEmTVROW0tY9xBA4zDsLAQ4QXGNL5VVCEoYL0J5WhJKdYn7wjBNUbUHbqItG/s1600/25.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaYYh5fepz64PJ9Ru2P6DsmbCzQE7nj95t43lmrpQJJlNtgvCrtBJfwCJWaiN1TaBjHwH0EyihHIOerlAVrEmTVROW0tY9xBA4zDsLAQ4QXGNL5VVCEoYL0J5WhJKdYn7wjBNUbUHbqItG/s1600/25.jpg" height="320" width="301" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">oh heavens...another damn perm. I think this was the last one...never to be repeated.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRXUYAlx5y3sQWtqGHju9ONUpFkb59-K_k8APr-iqhPAGmMWfosNqm_FqKseq2hrRtOoRjUf9v7NJOG3yjTaRb-nMxi5Tvj0vjwcEpV3fSGob6bIEwSx3kHqFh_h_hFQ36fAat68GsEr6M/s1600/28.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRXUYAlx5y3sQWtqGHju9ONUpFkb59-K_k8APr-iqhPAGmMWfosNqm_FqKseq2hrRtOoRjUf9v7NJOG3yjTaRb-nMxi5Tvj0vjwcEpV3fSGob6bIEwSx3kHqFh_h_hFQ36fAat68GsEr6M/s1600/28.jpeg" height="320" width="231" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">yes, looking lovingly into Kevin Costner's eyes !</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbFjTloCl-84TyqrDwbisxV5t1tZuKKTVfsFLHn-eqWGC1uFFftYkNux1EzkCrdHiK6CIS1prBYply4ms98AWLX3fzj4QiTTJabjbYydLeNDqc6-dikHKHN4chCFZetsPI6WClq7ktUnj0/s1600/34.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbFjTloCl-84TyqrDwbisxV5t1tZuKKTVfsFLHn-eqWGC1uFFftYkNux1EzkCrdHiK6CIS1prBYply4ms98AWLX3fzj4QiTTJabjbYydLeNDqc6-dikHKHN4chCFZetsPI6WClq7ktUnj0/s1600/34.jpg" height="320" width="226" /></a><br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFzRW22cFCfF014zITeBBVp4YE_8RSnoReTp541SXiSe1-QpnKUufxebtNrGMnPX9leRFD1HVpeIiCwF-viSIX6KVJFRtIPx5iIExhb_jU0qkN83VCrluHpbBJlhIKX7mqSgeAYnOFWrhO/s1600/37.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFzRW22cFCfF014zITeBBVp4YE_8RSnoReTp541SXiSe1-QpnKUufxebtNrGMnPX9leRFD1HVpeIiCwF-viSIX6KVJFRtIPx5iIExhb_jU0qkN83VCrluHpbBJlhIKX7mqSgeAYnOFWrhO/s1600/37.jpg" height="288" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I don't know why it took me so many years to have the gap in my front teeth fixed !</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAw4s4m3SldDYhk-L8XAEqxPqbpqUhf9Jc08wq9mssvzVR1zzq81fLNNFtYgINv5YYBUzrqzbyS3rnvZ_tucR407v5FNv0yJRtZG6a5m8heKnuYfX1rrDvqxh8kDhhCWSOae6XSjIsr4k4/s1600/48.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAw4s4m3SldDYhk-L8XAEqxPqbpqUhf9Jc08wq9mssvzVR1zzq81fLNNFtYgINv5YYBUzrqzbyS3rnvZ_tucR407v5FNv0yJRtZG6a5m8heKnuYfX1rrDvqxh8kDhhCWSOae6XSjIsr4k4/s1600/48.JPG" height="267" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Then began the orange phase......I loved it.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFzRW22cFCfF014zITeBBVp4YE_8RSnoReTp541SXiSe1-QpnKUufxebtNrGMnPX9leRFD1HVpeIiCwF-viSIX6KVJFRtIPx5iIExhb_jU0qkN83VCrluHpbBJlhIKX7mqSgeAYnOFWrhO/s1600/37.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCBhMys4oA8Gh01sJs_b6w2aW6-uHgBlTAKuldxBu00218Y6l7PhtaZx7rtCwQe1mmJo6UZihHI-KefHuagb7PXeLlV6tWwzGf4OTXst4QRoBKl-ZhWLJmRP05o-lhmf8qiBDyqaHpVqEK/s1600/57.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCBhMys4oA8Gh01sJs_b6w2aW6-uHgBlTAKuldxBu00218Y6l7PhtaZx7rtCwQe1mmJo6UZihHI-KefHuagb7PXeLlV6tWwzGf4OTXst4QRoBKl-ZhWLJmRP05o-lhmf8qiBDyqaHpVqEK/s1600/57.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sometimes the orange was maybe a bit too much ! I seem to recall<br />most of this came off on the pillow case at night.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIGsPmFJd0fGGvMALi-qVspcxgvl7b8y0pAYDYi5Q0vsADfxOfJylFHpGo2LV4lbuU816vB7dYMuOCjaCNF9htG7I9DRXjvz7icWxso8NbXx7GndyUfSrqq7ykBh95uklaR6eIFEFWxbLl/s1600/54.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIGsPmFJd0fGGvMALi-qVspcxgvl7b8y0pAYDYi5Q0vsADfxOfJylFHpGo2LV4lbuU816vB7dYMuOCjaCNF9htG7I9DRXjvz7icWxso8NbXx7GndyUfSrqq7ykBh95uklaR6eIFEFWxbLl/s1600/54.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a><br />
<br />
<br />
Then came the wigs:<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm5pj6_m951xDOi64PRodG4lcZUZy4VIKK3Pa146UnmIZxRYHKqRwuw3e8HWenXLCIFzSpwwuh2c30w5iy8sB5oD1vKHI0EX0kN1Rm4-2F-vrNnQqZB3ApM9kcaJwzNY5D2-14tLBDiDwC/s1600/60.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm5pj6_m951xDOi64PRodG4lcZUZy4VIKK3Pa146UnmIZxRYHKqRwuw3e8HWenXLCIFzSpwwuh2c30w5iy8sB5oD1vKHI0EX0kN1Rm4-2F-vrNnQqZB3ApM9kcaJwzNY5D2-14tLBDiDwC/s1600/60.JPG" height="150" width="200" /></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqT9lNIg4BxogCbvxeCCy0vVPbIppiNL_c9ADxSWpEsxaqSFNpwruPvZlcMagFAmT7-Nr6F9_48lqEkud4YsidiI_tleEluZFvQzpfe6_r5Dtp0dncKqfXkV6L_vKQOVN6tKgFbHYLVY2B/s1600/61.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqT9lNIg4BxogCbvxeCCy0vVPbIppiNL_c9ADxSWpEsxaqSFNpwruPvZlcMagFAmT7-Nr6F9_48lqEkud4YsidiI_tleEluZFvQzpfe6_r5Dtp0dncKqfXkV6L_vKQOVN6tKgFbHYLVY2B/s1600/61.JPG" height="150" width="200" /></a><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7LyO9SQ-mHLv-1yvLx2fJBBoGAx4SD8YQZpo0kcmoY41krJ_WspUvvk2OPKO1QbcQknpdBl0Bvwt9xvPP5C17stKftWODQ1x1KFLhAc5X7BGoRNdAs22mPrCVc79GfM6Xgl5_GiI3RisR/s1600/62.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7LyO9SQ-mHLv-1yvLx2fJBBoGAx4SD8YQZpo0kcmoY41krJ_WspUvvk2OPKO1QbcQknpdBl0Bvwt9xvPP5C17stKftWODQ1x1KFLhAc5X7BGoRNdAs22mPrCVc79GfM6Xgl5_GiI3RisR/s1600/62.JPG" height="150" width="200" /></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl5Sbpwlsv3pkeSvM0lJeR4G5SaYbq9AQxDNZee0hg4Fr7sCse9qCfx4PAzSKhfpqdS-DDjRNlNiK2cZ982uLkYZ9WORaNOSHMRv1YMnJCkfZmE7Y9EADEyU5uNWSVSrJ7TNdLonRuNP1P/s1600/63.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl5Sbpwlsv3pkeSvM0lJeR4G5SaYbq9AQxDNZee0hg4Fr7sCse9qCfx4PAzSKhfpqdS-DDjRNlNiK2cZ982uLkYZ9WORaNOSHMRv1YMnJCkfZmE7Y9EADEyU5uNWSVSrJ7TNdLonRuNP1P/s1600/63.JPG" height="150" width="200" /></a><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq0bxiMUouE_lAyAuSfBB92KDn90Xxk10htklGIfdWsbJKI7_SpklbA_9kZq7oDHU26rhBLDGyf1CC2e8wy6_U1GJwMBPKckt7xK8dA9R_5hQJgWzQAyE0glxKjb0AqP9RamvW_n4Q2S74/s1600/64.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq0bxiMUouE_lAyAuSfBB92KDn90Xxk10htklGIfdWsbJKI7_SpklbA_9kZq7oDHU26rhBLDGyf1CC2e8wy6_U1GJwMBPKckt7xK8dA9R_5hQJgWzQAyE0glxKjb0AqP9RamvW_n4Q2S74/s1600/64.JPG" height="150" width="200" /></a></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
and finally, enough hair growth to get rid of the wigs. ( They are still in a drawer in my bedroom.....what do people do with old wigs ?)</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_XKzRA_bPQ0zH6QNx9oFDiZifL1z55yHTm3xtAh-C5X7yJU6v8NI4LZrzpdOuM0bR8FrigosUXVYiayjTgpJbQPTH6wKy28D2Zirkopny0u7lGT5rio-mCOaz0cksTdYdPx3bLBu09w3B/s1600/IMG_2365.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_XKzRA_bPQ0zH6QNx9oFDiZifL1z55yHTm3xtAh-C5X7yJU6v8NI4LZrzpdOuM0bR8FrigosUXVYiayjTgpJbQPTH6wKy28D2Zirkopny0u7lGT5rio-mCOaz0cksTdYdPx3bLBu09w3B/s1600/IMG_2365.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7jFe3rEwAdB4nrwMKM_dnZkOphl-OfBoHNY1VWRwjt3kIjaxNhQOQZWAPpAO0MdxZb_9cViQXvOy7lCQsATTpIiswGKIMqwj4nejVkMzKVCzIEeSU99Z3EKOwEOAniHJbnkSe2Oqhw6s8/s1600/67.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7jFe3rEwAdB4nrwMKM_dnZkOphl-OfBoHNY1VWRwjt3kIjaxNhQOQZWAPpAO0MdxZb_9cViQXvOy7lCQsATTpIiswGKIMqwj4nejVkMzKVCzIEeSU99Z3EKOwEOAniHJbnkSe2Oqhw6s8/s1600/67.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The post chemo curly phase</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkiCQKdCgclCcsjd2QDjdvS2-05kz6jkPmythb5BKtOrD9Wz0Ppk_6wJL4P-_UTbmn6f2Ba8-KPEKjJEgAzIILRlDR3zfpRP3t19y5TKSs1X2OrJJHzYw_yYzig5hmhN0GzkRsRR6owAQS/s1600/70.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkiCQKdCgclCcsjd2QDjdvS2-05kz6jkPmythb5BKtOrD9Wz0Ppk_6wJL4P-_UTbmn6f2Ba8-KPEKjJEgAzIILRlDR3zfpRP3t19y5TKSs1X2OrJJHzYw_yYzig5hmhN0GzkRsRR6owAQS/s1600/70.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">and finally, back to normal</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu6-33VFWCatx0btgvszLD4gDyInb_ZQCRWvgNyvfu8MME-obKnPYTEBRaIMbfLiZCfy9-w9DhvQlwbkWhM6WpxsY3kD6eqOW-Gr4Kx2DpJkkUB_yaC8IDhx8FEYHxJwq1iceOR_vhD0QH/s1600/75.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu6-33VFWCatx0btgvszLD4gDyInb_ZQCRWvgNyvfu8MME-obKnPYTEBRaIMbfLiZCfy9-w9DhvQlwbkWhM6WpxsY3kD6eqOW-Gr4Kx2DpJkkUB_yaC8IDhx8FEYHxJwq1iceOR_vhD0QH/s1600/75.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkRUrcUOaQqGUUkSlbTKmTz8lFrbxSu-hQoNbYS-fkyyqtjhZzFmxdj_NxDWk0Tvjht8z06G8c8ajkoKHmSZ7pAg1CS8pWhcCRlznT4369u2zJbs__Q5NkqyS6ehBZuTCf3BdufPEuK646/s1600/01d32ece5358899117a46262d2bd99be8d9d063457.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkRUrcUOaQqGUUkSlbTKmTz8lFrbxSu-hQoNbYS-fkyyqtjhZzFmxdj_NxDWk0Tvjht8z06G8c8ajkoKHmSZ7pAg1CS8pWhcCRlznT4369u2zJbs__Q5NkqyS6ehBZuTCf3BdufPEuK646/s1600/01d32ece5358899117a46262d2bd99be8d9d063457.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">except when my hairdresser of 24 years decides it is long enough to put up !</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Janicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05449652020751269674noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-926851391080970240.post-43309070383025030622015-02-12T10:19:00.002+00:002015-02-12T10:19:36.135+00:00Berlin and Birthdays<div class="MsoNormal">
15 years ago, when my father was celebrating his 70<sup>th</sup>
birthday with us, we gave him a cheque, some guide books and a hand made
voucher, indicating that the cheque should be spent on a trip to Berlin. My
father was a conscripted sapper in the Royal Engineers, reaching his 18<sup>th</sup>
birthday in 1947, and was sent to Berlin, to be part of the occupying force
during the Berlin Airlift. He left
Berlin 3 days after the Russian blockade on the city was lifted, and had always
wanted to return.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk5gqAy7ZnB5QWIy5IV6W8SBywKda7RbBmLvwItuT2_Fo3BecDwFnHnMrFrCyjvXwDreFesDm9lZv54uIchoKTuCEPZERMrVOKFRYjTvciosJXWdIl00sILoanaQfeTcDZAUo8sj_hn5om/s1600/Berlin+pamphlet+001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk5gqAy7ZnB5QWIy5IV6W8SBywKda7RbBmLvwItuT2_Fo3BecDwFnHnMrFrCyjvXwDreFesDm9lZv54uIchoKTuCEPZERMrVOKFRYjTvciosJXWdIl00sILoanaQfeTcDZAUo8sj_hn5om/s1600/Berlin+pamphlet+001.jpg" height="320" width="201" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Handbook issued to British occupying forces<br />
in Berlin in 1946.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
<br />
<br />
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<br />
My dad led a complicated life....and for various reasons, he
never got around to organising the trip to Berlin. After he died in 2007, Mark
and I determined that we would go in his place one day.</div>
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</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My surprise birthday gift last week was a much better organised
Berlin trip. Jess and Matty bought the flights, and Mark had booked the hotel.
So, last Saturday, Mark and I set off for 3 nights in Berlin.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikuiWBDQsuLUstywFIpZBNSMiMBVUrEMwLLHlZ9xqgp7VtcWUPCZ-RrGRnMf3o6S1nh53TpxjmMHjucRbH5hbc0PxzV_YYZSgHghDksB5E0Rmw2iiAkjCDQclRMN9LtBrMRDEHNyo0rNoE/s1600/01bfb73dd575e5c4d73efa0dde612968edca293b9e.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikuiWBDQsuLUstywFIpZBNSMiMBVUrEMwLLHlZ9xqgp7VtcWUPCZ-RrGRnMf3o6S1nh53TpxjmMHjucRbH5hbc0PxzV_YYZSgHghDksB5E0Rmw2iiAkjCDQclRMN9LtBrMRDEHNyo0rNoE/s1600/01bfb73dd575e5c4d73efa0dde612968edca293b9e.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
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We’ve had an excellent time. The Berlin Film Festival is
taking place at the moment, so red carpets abounded. We went to see a new Ian
McKellen film, “Mr Holmes”, which was delightful. The Film festival experience
made it very special. The screen was huge, the film theatre was
fabulous.....and we did have to walk along a red carpet to get in , although as you will notice it was much too cold to wear anything that could be considered properly appropriate for red carpets. Thermals were worn at all times.</div>
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Other highlights of the trip included visiting Norman Foster’s
dome above the Reichstag,</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpnwAGGelNn3UTt2TZNA7PqSnRFqMuNwM9GdMCIaCIKe4DayqE4tP2YAMcp850f4qd6Zn-kwZak-In0NR9W7E5sTuQhXxeRk_ZwGDTokTnRkhJ2I-XQ75b5SRXqwYEVnR0CHimG5QNkRG5/s1600/DSC_0003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpnwAGGelNn3UTt2TZNA7PqSnRFqMuNwM9GdMCIaCIKe4DayqE4tP2YAMcp850f4qd6Zn-kwZak-In0NR9W7E5sTuQhXxeRk_ZwGDTokTnRkhJ2I-XQ75b5SRXqwYEVnR0CHimG5QNkRG5/s1600/DSC_0003.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a></div>
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staying at the sumptuous Adion Hotel,</div>
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and seeing Daniel
Libeskind’s Jewish Museum, which must be one of the most haunting architectural
designs ever. The building incorporates huge voids, recognising the absence of Jews in Berlin. The above installation " Shalekhet" ( Fallen Leaves) By Menashe Kadishman consists of 10,000 heavy iron plates cut to resemble faces. Visitors walk across them making an incredibly disturbing noise.It is a very powerful museum, not without humour though......did I want to buy some kosher gummi bears ? No, I resisted the temptation.<br />
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I also enjoyed trying to work out what I recognised from my one and
only previous visit to the city, in about 1986, before the wall came down in 1989, and before reunification.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMsOjoZsGNKQ-i3rNitW-pMk71wkP-1zcvLSugRzIBpNyEufUc4GXxCw_-8DnLPBPr1XDypGOy0LgD3RYxsXJfyFevhuv-gv4yWFETu4X8IIJOl9Vyw6OJ6l_NgrLWVSTj5OArzAGjRKLK/s1600/011229eb3ac95386db27d64d920a85863a52cf7b13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMsOjoZsGNKQ-i3rNitW-pMk71wkP-1zcvLSugRzIBpNyEufUc4GXxCw_-8DnLPBPr1XDypGOy0LgD3RYxsXJfyFevhuv-gv4yWFETu4X8IIJOl9Vyw6OJ6l_NgrLWVSTj5OArzAGjRKLK/s1600/011229eb3ac95386db27d64d920a85863a52cf7b13.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My last visit through Checkpoint Charlie involved a long wait while the bus was checked over, by very serious looking soldiers. Now, people pose with what I expect are actors, by a fake control box, and yes...there is a McDonalds right next to it.</td></tr>
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The main difference seemed to me, was that the city centre I recalled....was obviously, in the west of the divided city. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR-TC04geRFD3Ya24sLn7z0hkSD3KGPkeWf-kHOTfw-5MrXVUUs_DEO9GcUA0hQNSjh8eun5uwZOWAxIQN1iKwiGSNpj41fOb_6pK3VKV2441gKI_COjfWFzr3o0DEV1iARbzyd0qaSGHi/s1600/DSC_0057.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR-TC04geRFD3Ya24sLn7z0hkSD3KGPkeWf-kHOTfw-5MrXVUUs_DEO9GcUA0hQNSjh8eun5uwZOWAxIQN1iKwiGSNpj41fOb_6pK3VKV2441gKI_COjfWFzr3o0DEV1iARbzyd0qaSGHi/s1600/DSC_0057.JPG" height="267" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On my last Berlin trip I stood on the other side of the Brandenburg Gate, and looked to the east.....this time, our hotel, the Adion, was nestled between the American and British Embassies, in what was the Eastern sector..behind the wall.</td></tr>
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Now, the centre has moved east ! Whereas the
Brandenburg Gate was the far eastern point of the pre-unified city, it is now very clearly
the centre. With the Bundestag in the Reichstag, all emphasis has moved
eastwards. Finding Gucci and Armani ( aswell as Primark and H&M ) in East Berlin was strange, recalling the tales of shops selling nothing from my previous visit.</div>
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The real highlights though, were attempting to find places
my father would have known. I was born 6 years after he returned from his
National Service, and his 9 months in Berlin, so it was all quite fresh for
him, when I was a child. He used to tell me stories about the underground
trains that went through the Russian sector and about going to the Opera in the
Russian sector. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjReuhyphenhyphenqunVUTVAEFu82VHqsXD1-MXehOyz2nwF5PiNZWQUrknSlxFg0kT2mrszRuBn2YB-T5CBRvVeXIDDRfMSQRmxVtt8undRPni76LeJ8tHdfylE6ttaIZmQ2Vnl29nrqlN5B3sOsdWN/s1600/Aida+1949+001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjReuhyphenhyphenqunVUTVAEFu82VHqsXD1-MXehOyz2nwF5PiNZWQUrknSlxFg0kT2mrszRuBn2YB-T5CBRvVeXIDDRfMSQRmxVtt8undRPni76LeJ8tHdfylE6ttaIZmQ2Vnl29nrqlN5B3sOsdWN/s1600/Aida+1949+001.jpg" height="320" width="222" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of dad's programmes from his opera trips in Berlin in 1949.</td></tr>
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He told me about his German girlfriend Christa. He told me about the hours he would spend at the Naafi. His
favourite story was about using the Olympic stadium for athletics training. He loved the
idea that he had run on the same track as Jesse Owens.</div>
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So, finding the street on which he worked, the Naafi, the
Opera House, and the stadium were important.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKz07IQqWgsis9iJf98nbYqic02r5oxGhzM8Reo6qpDz95DvZUB2G2mX1aqdNgBwyrvRlLQeTjpGU7bD_ys8wDCvFzjj13x0Tcrne-ZOlmIBT92v4vnX9DdDcSKriVMBPnV9Zb6lwKK7CZ/s1600/Berlin+pics+013.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKz07IQqWgsis9iJf98nbYqic02r5oxGhzM8Reo6qpDz95DvZUB2G2mX1aqdNgBwyrvRlLQeTjpGU7bD_ys8wDCvFzjj13x0Tcrne-ZOlmIBT92v4vnX9DdDcSKriVMBPnV9Zb6lwKK7CZ/s1600/Berlin+pics+013.jpg" height="265" width="320" /></a></div>
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We managed it all, and could even use his U-bahn map. (
There are a few other lines now, but it was still possible to use his map to
take us to Kaiserdam Stasse, the Zoo and to the Olympic Stadium. It was a shame that the Opera House is being renovated, and was under wraps....but I could make out the columns, and dad would approve of it being returned to its former splendour.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeyYGyOds0IAZ290s75kBjdBYkp_MWsp87YJfhnx5AM8lK8gIhCQtN8HmFrSKj0b_ltTGE7zIcRQHTvwh_CIkqqNU3KfTOXgimRRJAnVtWxs7KKjPDd8Iw0XoMIQp73Nyb5373MhSMZZ-b/s1600/Opera+House+001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeyYGyOds0IAZ290s75kBjdBYkp_MWsp87YJfhnx5AM8lK8gIhCQtN8HmFrSKj0b_ltTGE7zIcRQHTvwh_CIkqqNU3KfTOXgimRRJAnVtWxs7KKjPDd8Iw0XoMIQp73Nyb5373MhSMZZ-b/s1600/Opera+House+001.jpg" height="232" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimJstrao_kt6F8TendpLfWb-nPHPqaPrqAH7BmuzAGneBFutkkalyx3en5A-VYoCaMVH9KlPXPCoqVnC3k4MsmY_8_0pF6FcwOM-yS0NFJVJelwVmTYxUCDgqk4q13p6r_ZY_FQCCmZ_Ag/s1600/DSC_0023.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimJstrao_kt6F8TendpLfWb-nPHPqaPrqAH7BmuzAGneBFutkkalyx3en5A-VYoCaMVH9KlPXPCoqVnC3k4MsmY_8_0pF6FcwOM-yS0NFJVJelwVmTYxUCDgqk4q13p6r_ZY_FQCCmZ_Ag/s1600/DSC_0023.JPG" height="267" width="400" /></a></div>
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I expected to be emotional when I saw the stadium. I knew it
was still there, and although it has been updated, I knew there had been a
decision to retain its basic design, which was a pretty iconic but clearly
fascist architectural style. What really surprised me though, was how emotional
I felt when we found the Naafi. The building now houses a theatre, a hotel and
a parking garage....but it was unmistakable...... and my 20 year old dad used to play
snooker there !</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVjZZS94XKkcJh4Mxj0TH5CVUog44iI_Vf5_8NZ3g0uI9lOPDaQcbC1CzzwjnlNpafiW87_6jGFYtWZNa3ze6rPTWlrjelIBhgpeerKtnTV3mH-T5kslKU1-j7v2dsJNdrEyN8RIR2Hqb9/s1600/Berlin+pics+014.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVjZZS94XKkcJh4Mxj0TH5CVUog44iI_Vf5_8NZ3g0uI9lOPDaQcbC1CzzwjnlNpafiW87_6jGFYtWZNa3ze6rPTWlrjelIBhgpeerKtnTV3mH-T5kslKU1-j7v2dsJNdrEyN8RIR2Hqb9/s1600/Berlin+pics+014.jpg" height="301" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dad's photo of the Naafi. Adolf Hitler Platz was renamed in 1946 as Reichskanzler Platz, which had been its name until 1933. It is now called Theodor Heuss Platz......but the buildings around the platz remain completely recognisable when compared to my father's photos.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiObrZPa_5C1JGFs9Fhoot-PFW34K5fLEypSTQSGa2uWkPbjunMp1rzZuewGtt3MFMLwlx0-KYwCUQKJvAOQzbdHzxyqHYoJkilDWQ-bOYnaxydBbIXnzuVUn738R6Owa9guccKHHuCyRrv/s1600/DSC_0139.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiObrZPa_5C1JGFs9Fhoot-PFW34K5fLEypSTQSGa2uWkPbjunMp1rzZuewGtt3MFMLwlx0-KYwCUQKJvAOQzbdHzxyqHYoJkilDWQ-bOYnaxydBbIXnzuVUn738R6Owa9guccKHHuCyRrv/s1600/DSC_0139.JPG" height="267" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The use of the building has changed, the lettering and decoration has changed...but the structure remains the same.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI09kONDlq0b6TYT_nMXfG6fGlNUAIkPTZ6oZKdiZYk0p5xFJF5Krk-gT9x4MjF_bzz_6HP83cY-axjdFGrNYz6PUVN4s0rWexfS6vCNNt1RIMc0GRUQi-8pe634h_-_KcyBTVlJuk7rs3/s1600/Berlin+pics+012.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI09kONDlq0b6TYT_nMXfG6fGlNUAIkPTZ6oZKdiZYk0p5xFJF5Krk-gT9x4MjF_bzz_6HP83cY-axjdFGrNYz6PUVN4s0rWexfS6vCNNt1RIMc0GRUQi-8pe634h_-_KcyBTVlJuk7rs3/s1600/Berlin+pics+012.jpg" height="416" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Somehow dad managed a very creative ( or accidental) double exposure with this photo....the dark area at the back, being the inside of the stadium.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0aDT5u6YcWNp88S06YUYucAR_lc7AcQGochXwKIj_qWfX45Yp1KPtUjiQKMNa1jPZyCWKsOxF-HHn3Nu3gvJvfKSuNvu1xiI9sNnVtAY2gCveYSVisXam-V9ynM59Qn0tkQzSpfqyBXbK/s1600/DSC_0143.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0aDT5u6YcWNp88S06YUYucAR_lc7AcQGochXwKIj_qWfX45Yp1KPtUjiQKMNa1jPZyCWKsOxF-HHn3Nu3gvJvfKSuNvu1xiI9sNnVtAY2gCveYSVisXam-V9ynM59Qn0tkQzSpfqyBXbK/s1600/DSC_0143.JPG" height="428" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I couldn't manage a double exposure with my digital camera, but did try to stand in a similar spot, in the platz in front of the stadium, as dad must have done. It has hardly changed.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRiDe6HwUTC8ciHocS2qGWGX5YWyQQMP8XCmg1ZbZlPcrHyhC464HGdAV16E-F1t4ek3E76xix6iCKUuIP4zKfKlSJmRJ_qFHqEPAAdTZx_VNvXxzO9k6EL2WNQ2B1JwFBrJgKk0fBUL4g/s1600/Berlin+stadium+1949.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRiDe6HwUTC8ciHocS2qGWGX5YWyQQMP8XCmg1ZbZlPcrHyhC464HGdAV16E-F1t4ek3E76xix6iCKUuIP4zKfKlSJmRJ_qFHqEPAAdTZx_VNvXxzO9k6EL2WNQ2B1JwFBrJgKk0fBUL4g/s1600/Berlin+stadium+1949.jpg" height="400" width="186" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">20 year old Mike Whelan, inside the 1936 Berlin Olympic Stadium, in 1949</td></tr>
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We ended the trip by asking the taxi driver to stop at the
Airlift Memorial as he drove us back to the airport. It was 7.30 in the
morning, only just light, but it made the perfect end to the trip. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNaV_O7NEUo6OU3-vb63ZWcBrWR0uZli3XwBg5EeHGMwsdzhyphenhyphenUtVVNomN77Kvy-TKjeRY3Zcb-5HOc9sgJdht9R8vxEtqEsUdyszMf6VpWuZlXaTAaxZbjNzMgM3Svsv1xk4rt-tuqXW10/s1600/P1060092.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNaV_O7NEUo6OU3-vb63ZWcBrWR0uZli3XwBg5EeHGMwsdzhyphenhyphenUtVVNomN77Kvy-TKjeRY3Zcb-5HOc9sgJdht9R8vxEtqEsUdyszMf6VpWuZlXaTAaxZbjNzMgM3Svsv1xk4rt-tuqXW10/s1600/P1060092.JPG" height="320" width="237" /></a></div>
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I wish, I wish, I wish that Dad had made the trip, but I am
so pleased we finally did it on his behalf.</div>
Janicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05449652020751269674noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-926851391080970240.post-28788341444728049662015-02-03T13:53:00.001+00:002015-02-03T16:10:29.338+00:00Celebrating 60<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">What can I say ?</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLSgE6s8Tf1yl4PKyoWNb1ORspfmNj6K_f-qF4L-q8lLkqunBlivzZ_fnErdSH8vhPzlZh49jrX2bjlWdst-CVGJwNnUwfOKL4zE1NWedKvkahXgqvCXi2KAG64SnPob7clfjXbK3XDu4U/s1600/DSC_0076.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLSgE6s8Tf1yl4PKyoWNb1ORspfmNj6K_f-qF4L-q8lLkqunBlivzZ_fnErdSH8vhPzlZh49jrX2bjlWdst-CVGJwNnUwfOKL4zE1NWedKvkahXgqvCXi2KAG64SnPob7clfjXbK3XDu4U/s1600/DSC_0076.JPG" height="323" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Celebrating 60 has been pretty good so far, and it is another 5 days before my actual birthday.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">By last Friday I had received a number of interesting gifts:</span><br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyaXc-JUk2H1gI9m3N6He-5Arxi8bbbMNR0uQnH5q2E0Gj_3LcMhty6n2UDOhjAZoQE_NpxBrFv8IQpziYKAen22WcBva2SNe5h3iIGaWo1p2u1p2pxaIhvqnjz804dOK3TdfNnMU6XRxw/s1600/01a43543f95e98a09ecb1bd49df2be238566caaf3e.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyaXc-JUk2H1gI9m3N6He-5Arxi8bbbMNR0uQnH5q2E0Gj_3LcMhty6n2UDOhjAZoQE_NpxBrFv8IQpziYKAen22WcBva2SNe5h3iIGaWo1p2u1p2pxaIhvqnjz804dOK3TdfNnMU6XRxw/s1600/01a43543f95e98a09ecb1bd49df2be238566caaf3e.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">from <span style="font-size: 12.8000001907349px;">the staff at Overgate !</span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCwqyAcr0KDBwmT-WwUadMZiG2GO-oFv5qdg2YFHa029T-_KkpLdDftco0QT4TXEaJcE0ZVu3AFl_74jra6LlFcZZvEUYaL-Yj5Gh8ciIiY1EDDzT3V6e9M8yI2fLP2twyM6F2xbdyTsAx/s1600/01c6a446c04a7b7faa4052bf87b7679752760eae1d.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCwqyAcr0KDBwmT-WwUadMZiG2GO-oFv5qdg2YFHa029T-_KkpLdDftco0QT4TXEaJcE0ZVu3AFl_74jra6LlFcZZvEUYaL-Yj5Gh8ciIiY1EDDzT3V6e9M8yI2fLP2twyM6F2xbdyTsAx/s1600/01c6a446c04a7b7faa4052bf87b7679752760eae1d.jpg" height="200" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">from Treena</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJqMXXMghFydLbKoh6rfv9MWpSEggYFyhbshFBgRcqbjj7ahszDXdF3QHWvdbx70q2M0wOW6b8DHqTC4jVi-g7NAhGvIq-E9WGIwuZ0EIAMfW_qI_e7Evd915i9Wcf2__nkTH8Z9pDjcsJ/s1600/014854c43f86eaa3c7e5c0f9acc55b924da99144f8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJqMXXMghFydLbKoh6rfv9MWpSEggYFyhbshFBgRcqbjj7ahszDXdF3QHWvdbx70q2M0wOW6b8DHqTC4jVi-g7NAhGvIq-E9WGIwuZ0EIAMfW_qI_e7Evd915i9Wcf2__nkTH8Z9pDjcsJ/s1600/014854c43f86eaa3c7e5c0f9acc55b924da99144f8.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">from Annie</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Saturday started with a bit of a surprise, being told that I would not be working in the shop on my birthday next week, as I would be in Berlin, courtesy of Mark ( who has sorted out the rather magnificent looking hotel, opposite the Brandenburg Gates, and Jess and Matty who have organised the flights ). I suspect there will be a blog from Berlin !</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgPQWK5GVO7xDkKryoClBeP4Xgs_ZNbfmbsoezHKqKX326r1tB_uKnhxF8gKZvq0iMUpG5D7qJGodu0EMHAMllKQJdLRd4sOJbwgxi92S6w2DVyMNyeeYNwiWtrEjeUeVPomHOL43HDbX5/s1600/01b4835d9b3e6c7354dd28ed9fc259dbcc5e5d9985.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgPQWK5GVO7xDkKryoClBeP4Xgs_ZNbfmbsoezHKqKX326r1tB_uKnhxF8gKZvq0iMUpG5D7qJGodu0EMHAMllKQJdLRd4sOJbwgxi92S6w2DVyMNyeeYNwiWtrEjeUeVPomHOL43HDbX5/s1600/01b4835d9b3e6c7354dd28ed9fc259dbcc5e5d9985.jpg" height="200" width="112" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Next, Jess and I went to get our hair done....and considering I had no hair at all just a little while ago, I was quite amazed when my hairdresser ( another Mark....Mark Riley, in Huddersfield) told me he was going to put my hair up...surely it wasn't long enough. Apparently it was.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc7-UEPDs4eqlgIGl2MbBkpv482PjQJvaXZpHGzEFkb-7WxTJRyFehhbs-Dy9mF5Jg2ewYUEppXbK9yhZ7tOArlYXld3Wnu6gy8RTBSlnStd-hTkC07lIX7sk8Q0wXYqBjcvEYHbYzsAGU/s1600/0175a864a17e801609af97cbb6646fb009c48cd3a4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc7-UEPDs4eqlgIGl2MbBkpv482PjQJvaXZpHGzEFkb-7WxTJRyFehhbs-Dy9mF5Jg2ewYUEppXbK9yhZ7tOArlYXld3Wnu6gy8RTBSlnStd-hTkC07lIX7sk8Q0wXYqBjcvEYHbYzsAGU/s1600/0175a864a17e801609af97cbb6646fb009c48cd3a4.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jess and I , leaving the hairdressers, with our "up dos"</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">After much fiddling around with photos for the walls, and feather arranging for the table centres, we set off, and then got the room at the hotel ready.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD6d0nZTFSzsjdtniJV5IVKbPE7jTIVHK1peVfHuW4wNXY6Ws21lh-UWZFTxQKDM8gUhHrdv1iw2UUGKivobagcyeNBuy1mY5p_pC6FX95m0zsDNnow1fucaqT6pIzdKTtPJZa4E0zhhLc/s1600/P1060002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD6d0nZTFSzsjdtniJV5IVKbPE7jTIVHK1peVfHuW4wNXY6Ws21lh-UWZFTxQKDM8gUhHrdv1iw2UUGKivobagcyeNBuy1mY5p_pC6FX95m0zsDNnow1fucaqT6pIzdKTtPJZa4E0zhhLc/s1600/P1060002.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The staff at the hotel were great, and Jess, Matty, Mark, Jan and I soon had the room looking as we wanted it.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQd6f6eTN6qqh-vEkGTyuTbe7PRRLzkKLMlcSCQ6EuniQywJgopbL1m5M2Hpr1ABz8jcAsoR5g5GTaVz7TsyQjBh-n2nMTAcuTK2qw5GKJrMf2Fz2ZcrllXGg557OWS6mxoA-rNbWbcqqV/s1600/P1060003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQd6f6eTN6qqh-vEkGTyuTbe7PRRLzkKLMlcSCQ6EuniQywJgopbL1m5M2Hpr1ABz8jcAsoR5g5GTaVz7TsyQjBh-n2nMTAcuTK2qw5GKJrMf2Fz2ZcrllXGg557OWS6mxoA-rNbWbcqqV/s1600/P1060003.JPG" height="296" width="400" /></a></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivkXRdSZx1591r60dAkCvO_l2cYzVVxpZnzzAoc_N69jvIdK1LGrRlGRUTdPn3SgvyjJKqyQwsAZS2Aq99_ugUfddRB1PZh4UutibxdQH-Y2ZVQGZM5aqq46qX4V6KHPV7HxJjdXNZBsfJ/s1600/P1060005.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivkXRdSZx1591r60dAkCvO_l2cYzVVxpZnzzAoc_N69jvIdK1LGrRlGRUTdPn3SgvyjJKqyQwsAZS2Aq99_ugUfddRB1PZh4UutibxdQH-Y2ZVQGZM5aqq46qX4V6KHPV7HxJjdXNZBsfJ/s1600/P1060005.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jess created a time line of my hair styles, from 1957..aged 2, until 2015.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So, we got ready.....and then it all began.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE0AR1g_ovEhhEUB8fkq9yeND3xm_S0PBO6FYpYJWy7QKGHvXFHDGrw1-TZ3yMYFvaKonNaJ2lFAAflAqlfRW5ecnm6VM3wUPlS5uJOaSB9DZhlrf-Ru3lmVP5WpUJosVQUStSPPhvwKJL/s1600/01d32ece5358899117a46262d2bd99be8d9d063457.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE0AR1g_ovEhhEUB8fkq9yeND3xm_S0PBO6FYpYJWy7QKGHvXFHDGrw1-TZ3yMYFvaKonNaJ2lFAAflAqlfRW5ecnm6VM3wUPlS5uJOaSB9DZhlrf-Ru3lmVP5WpUJosVQUStSPPhvwKJL/s1600/01d32ece5358899117a46262d2bd99be8d9d063457.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtHs2s6GgznkgOJxFbl1YXiXgoT2rnWr28sOuH1M3-0tnHYNZ44UNbK4hk1TxYz79HKupqjd7FftM4rozP1Lr_6UcPlyZm7VlGMkGNsXFbJVGKfpVw3RY3jE8VpeSYaTYKwU6akUwO9k3r/s1600/P1060056.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtHs2s6GgznkgOJxFbl1YXiXgoT2rnWr28sOuH1M3-0tnHYNZ44UNbK4hk1TxYz79HKupqjd7FftM4rozP1Lr_6UcPlyZm7VlGMkGNsXFbJVGKfpVw3RY3jE8VpeSYaTYKwU6akUwO9k3r/s1600/P1060056.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Wonderful live music from Georgia Harrup, who was part of "Team Tom" in last season's "The Voice".</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEEykZExc0D1Qx1BUczOfbKuM5Zv-P0R_mnUNruXohO2sDrHPyyktRxxt4-Op7-R3AhX6wViC_QkcChvYwTE3uKis8LypwvspUxUM1UFj7GJWN8fE6wVDUnRtIV4nCboPz-f5CZeWwpIE9/s1600/DSC_0061.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEEykZExc0D1Qx1BUczOfbKuM5Zv-P0R_mnUNruXohO2sDrHPyyktRxxt4-Op7-R3AhX6wViC_QkcChvYwTE3uKis8LypwvspUxUM1UFj7GJWN8fE6wVDUnRtIV4nCboPz-f5CZeWwpIE9/s1600/DSC_0061.JPG" height="267" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXRMCEO5XuV9vMfzx9W_drvyKw36W7MUxusE3wBEgqTpi1dbXTYRrE2sFbQYskxAfSVn0ccqYPbe8k6nEwIfnhYIalumFt_lnIk-3I0PCV1vNaEvqpTDVjJwPe__zNH7XM-pJCdN4Zq1lz/s1600/DSC_0057.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXRMCEO5XuV9vMfzx9W_drvyKw36W7MUxusE3wBEgqTpi1dbXTYRrE2sFbQYskxAfSVn0ccqYPbe8k6nEwIfnhYIalumFt_lnIk-3I0PCV1vNaEvqpTDVjJwPe__zNH7XM-pJCdN4Zq1lz/s1600/DSC_0057.JPG" height="400" width="267" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Incredible cake by Rachel Mary Shaw,<a href="http://www.maryshawsbakery.co.uk/">www.maryshawsbakery.co.uk</a>,</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzX1_BaHjVM_rp8F2nfXRZNilAUS5-QymHoN_LeonLzH8zxXuLgMUnbCg1_P6ReCnJDEgS072dREdA79cqLk8YLa4yQBV8eEUyPrUSoxLCdXq_HRLhC9RvYU92fWv6KWCoMGTu6i7suNf4/s1600/DSC_0041.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzX1_BaHjVM_rp8F2nfXRZNilAUS5-QymHoN_LeonLzH8zxXuLgMUnbCg1_P6ReCnJDEgS072dREdA79cqLk8YLa4yQBV8eEUyPrUSoxLCdXq_HRLhC9RvYU92fWv6KWCoMGTu6i7suNf4/s1600/DSC_0041.JPG" height="400" width="261" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rachel Mary Shaw and Josh....cake makers </td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Lots of family, friends from way way back, neighbours, and friends from each stage of my various careers ! ( Teaching, Education Administration, Nursing and from the Overgate Hospice shop )</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhENr3X54Lt1x1lsrTjO-1pqY8zZegO4fo1otwdVe7ugYz2puvorNV9j-dNQioWh7tsSJNuT0UN0rJR8HCw8GQcNRRQFjm4y06aWfmt_p1Sl2lamzqwmU6_Kpr6aC787FdIpeqeQt_gIH2e/s1600/012bc39c39934ccb103c3e6a3d47614dc823f40585.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhENr3X54Lt1x1lsrTjO-1pqY8zZegO4fo1otwdVe7ugYz2puvorNV9j-dNQioWh7tsSJNuT0UN0rJR8HCw8GQcNRRQFjm4y06aWfmt_p1Sl2lamzqwmU6_Kpr6aC787FdIpeqeQt_gIH2e/s1600/012bc39c39934ccb103c3e6a3d47614dc823f40585.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">with Lesley and Martine, who I worked with on the gynaey ward in Halifax</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRupnW-VXNX-_oE0T0GzsWxgAMBFy9sXuzRdBAxNIpZ8sqh-1HuhAclRqpcSYWKZyXWJZR0KZFR19r0oxW7M2VDTDZi9uqEExx3jk2ImPSyA_CtnaoRltQU7IDHC4Ye5tDhNfTVoof3sw-/s1600/01134e9e095c42c3df0cd7614e6bcef6ae223afd6e.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRupnW-VXNX-_oE0T0GzsWxgAMBFy9sXuzRdBAxNIpZ8sqh-1HuhAclRqpcSYWKZyXWJZR0KZFR19r0oxW7M2VDTDZi9uqEExx3jk2ImPSyA_CtnaoRltQU7IDHC4Ye5tDhNfTVoof3sw-/s1600/01134e9e095c42c3df0cd7614e6bcef6ae223afd6e.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">with Izzie and Liam, just before things got going</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi67yt5PY_4ME86-XkMQb_90cgOrFetyHdfVpbMgR7iRtXxOr_j3LRFpLAiXK-AmOxgtQuD3YMtIytrm3aJmjftsmaOiWzBeyYFg9c-jITgMCZOzeyH25LJT-1lH6dL345SGJ8fuZBt5_4m/s1600/DSC_0062.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi67yt5PY_4ME86-XkMQb_90cgOrFetyHdfVpbMgR7iRtXxOr_j3LRFpLAiXK-AmOxgtQuD3YMtIytrm3aJmjftsmaOiWzBeyYFg9c-jITgMCZOzeyH25LJT-1lH6dL345SGJ8fuZBt5_4m/s1600/DSC_0062.JPG" height="428" width="640" /></a></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8vKf52DDLM89EQVulRy0SGk0X3UJjMhFIz4as2ci6q62pvGKZhZBfHRSatLHKtNHkRrkfHdFkudbyvYGrdX6PS237bokRhEUI42dfD35z_oh6tcljRBGVQhjyvW0U2uGQoUcEz6tD2n5Z/s1600/DSC_0063.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8vKf52DDLM89EQVulRy0SGk0X3UJjMhFIz4as2ci6q62pvGKZhZBfHRSatLHKtNHkRrkfHdFkudbyvYGrdX6PS237bokRhEUI42dfD35z_oh6tcljRBGVQhjyvW0U2uGQoUcEz6tD2n5Z/s1600/DSC_0063.JPG" height="428" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Clark, clearly recognising that the prosecco was not real champagne.</td></tr>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNaACzO6bghlYSqCdvaIoA5FsafhyhubxEePUlkRitbR9BHXwkh1lvPqE549zUSxd9NiBrgSyA7t0ZpyXsylgq7GO0LhNjcWT0hGA0HjFhDZ6YeEtI1BoK6pJMLEYBB2K0jUzkfQxoWHJU/s1600/DSC_0078.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNaACzO6bghlYSqCdvaIoA5FsafhyhubxEePUlkRitbR9BHXwkh1lvPqE549zUSxd9NiBrgSyA7t0ZpyXsylgq7GO0LhNjcWT0hGA0HjFhDZ6YeEtI1BoK6pJMLEYBB2K0jUzkfQxoWHJU/s1600/DSC_0078.JPG" height="400" width="341" /></a></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpcKXGytruU9-JRmVCKoo3Gqo1yOW2jNviF-Y4cbYRE0xLL5x45k6Iegtc9Ne-PZ3BgbxdrEu5KCpWdRUvIXy17rhG7Flg6_HMH9VWSJco-9CT8SvOa6ghBZnolq0qh0_AGfIte_PeaxgB/s1600/DSC_0092.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpcKXGytruU9-JRmVCKoo3Gqo1yOW2jNviF-Y4cbYRE0xLL5x45k6Iegtc9Ne-PZ3BgbxdrEu5KCpWdRUvIXy17rhG7Flg6_HMH9VWSJco-9CT8SvOa6ghBZnolq0qh0_AGfIte_PeaxgB/s1600/DSC_0092.JPG" height="267" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Another of Jessie's ideas...fun with a frame.... ( Carole with Liam and Izzie)</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcWCu1gactVM_q4EMNy-s0gJ8YXg9n8FcpwQTzqr6VulfQL92rs-X7DqqP4V2LnuJYgdkW2tr9n2O1rtegeIazzrchkldKbITqYfl-JtZCTOB1RRT-jKlSXIxUVXaTs-Uzv8maSpDn8pT-/s1600/DSC_0047.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcWCu1gactVM_q4EMNy-s0gJ8YXg9n8FcpwQTzqr6VulfQL92rs-X7DqqP4V2LnuJYgdkW2tr9n2O1rtegeIazzrchkldKbITqYfl-JtZCTOB1RRT-jKlSXIxUVXaTs-Uzv8maSpDn8pT-/s1600/DSC_0047.JPG" height="427" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mark, toasting me.....and mentioning the wonderful NHS and the blogging community who have been such a support to me during the last couple of years. ( I should have toasted him, for being such an amazing support aswell ! )</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I particularly asked for no gifts, but suggested people might like to donate to the Hospice instead. The collection buckets contained £500 by the end of the evening. I was thrilled with people's generosity.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">...and I think, a good night was had by all.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXyk_SWRON3IwxPNS1BnjkAW7v1UAQKsAhb86A98Jg-05pwUPUAh8T2gf-RQxQBI_g_kNh-7oKqp2fFl47D885c3QauFOHUwVEUioz5FzpZaxRUZGWNPI8OyB5yjhW21ckA5xf9YG0GKjx/s1600/DSC_0017.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXyk_SWRON3IwxPNS1BnjkAW7v1UAQKsAhb86A98Jg-05pwUPUAh8T2gf-RQxQBI_g_kNh-7oKqp2fFl47D885c3QauFOHUwVEUioz5FzpZaxRUZGWNPI8OyB5yjhW21ckA5xf9YG0GKjx/s1600/DSC_0017.JPG" height="400" width="267" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I cant quite work out what is happening with arms in this photo of Jess.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm97-_1IaOpyq_wPry9CXN0c_RoFybPYF79vQMhb1sDR4jlgkAOnK1POijf7ctibx_jyIppPaBmrn86rSyQsLtw-Pxgm-MHk5gBZN-svnGNPZLOGjVLY6Kd_YcfHI76KZ_SaWxQh4uPzSE/s1600/013dac11365a2974c41ebfd1ceeab94c18e9c881a3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm97-_1IaOpyq_wPry9CXN0c_RoFybPYF79vQMhb1sDR4jlgkAOnK1POijf7ctibx_jyIppPaBmrn86rSyQsLtw-Pxgm-MHk5gBZN-svnGNPZLOGjVLY6Kd_YcfHI76KZ_SaWxQh4uPzSE/s1600/013dac11365a2974c41ebfd1ceeab94c18e9c881a3.jpg" height="225" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Janice and nurses</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO86GC4jzmhyR6T4uCSEvwt-98uX4aqzC-LLY_OU9i2Dn7bwVtma7QTGj12BJyZuKc2vCDKUhwQvqpOqAsGBLssiFTorciwDZkdhiUERZjFtL9L26RgGBpYOLqWQUPaof0w3ozu4nxzGlX/s1600/P1060060.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO86GC4jzmhyR6T4uCSEvwt-98uX4aqzC-LLY_OU9i2Dn7bwVtma7QTGj12BJyZuKc2vCDKUhwQvqpOqAsGBLssiFTorciwDZkdhiUERZjFtL9L26RgGBpYOLqWQUPaof0w3ozu4nxzGlX/s1600/P1060060.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Janice with oldest friends....started school with Jan in 1959, Graham...first serious boyfriend from 1970</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDoPVc0KLI5n5ZGqN5STCR6XjMGIjoswcFz1B564zI6oCI2ZJzwvI5BGDQg36M8FvGmeLbhsuIf-01GX5v3F-fv23mKLL3EjzyYdURAkp6Xsd1mOhooMMpXOrYwqcoP9QDYi0zVFgHe63x/s1600/P1060047.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDoPVc0KLI5n5ZGqN5STCR6XjMGIjoswcFz1B564zI6oCI2ZJzwvI5BGDQg36M8FvGmeLbhsuIf-01GX5v3F-fv23mKLL3EjzyYdURAkp6Xsd1mOhooMMpXOrYwqcoP9QDYi0zVFgHe63x/s1600/P1060047.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Treena from Overgate, me and Martine...crazy nurse.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT7olli-e2q0pyKh9FjC3zGg8P02vPaPHdHILnw9mySCkuMmOC4uChz0VcG6BHGdctdVwIQ33sJlAE1mysNPCzjTjUwsSNIYxE1b5udpIk-3Hr939UAotsPycwyziSTw80AiOYR6zlaEMH/s1600/P1060028.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT7olli-e2q0pyKh9FjC3zGg8P02vPaPHdHILnw9mySCkuMmOC4uChz0VcG6BHGdctdVwIQ33sJlAE1mysNPCzjTjUwsSNIYxE1b5udpIk-3Hr939UAotsPycwyziSTw80AiOYR6zlaEMH/s1600/P1060028.JPG" height="640" width="416" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">with Jess.....and Matt, and Melody in the red trousers just on the edge of the picture.....my first house mate when I began teaching all those years ago.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg761b2Rak_2M0cpTxgZKusdeqkMEugN9w1vWVHVV0rdzNVNhCl8nGtTIz5zjwiurvrWIjyaG4vFev25g-UrbF26vRCgLNVwrMbG0-jEhUKF_CDSXGUGK_hdrdWksIsGh85eECucAadSWCj/s1600/DSC_0039.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg761b2Rak_2M0cpTxgZKusdeqkMEugN9w1vWVHVV0rdzNVNhCl8nGtTIz5zjwiurvrWIjyaG4vFev25g-UrbF26vRCgLNVwrMbG0-jEhUKF_CDSXGUGK_hdrdWksIsGh85eECucAadSWCj/s1600/DSC_0039.JPG" height="640" width="428" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">and finally......Mark and I, dancing the night away.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>Janicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05449652020751269674noreply@blogger.com24tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-926851391080970240.post-9246523978799624722015-01-22T16:27:00.001+00:002015-01-22T16:41:00.825+00:00Catholics and Salvationists.....our very own Broad Church.<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Leopold Frederick
Murch was one of my great grandmother ( Florence) s’ brothers. He was just over
one year older than her, born in Devonport, Plymouth, in 1857.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
At one time, all I knew about him was that he was one of the
witnesses at Florence’s marriage to my great grandfather William Whelen, who
was in the Navy. They married at a Roman Catholic Naval Chapel in Devonport.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZBnTz2D0xNfWTDu9omNCvww6kKKOmBhAh7VOJ1dI20aK6FdgFFoVM6HAS73WlMtRqhNgJZ4laBqKaGWTri-ngCnlx0G3nT0iQwcbxh4KCDVH65Fv3Na0a_SO8SDUW8hwpczDvRuvh3YtI/s1600/St+Michaels+and+St+Josephs+,devonport.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZBnTz2D0xNfWTDu9omNCvww6kKKOmBhAh7VOJ1dI20aK6FdgFFoVM6HAS73WlMtRqhNgJZ4laBqKaGWTri-ngCnlx0G3nT0iQwcbxh4KCDVH65Fv3Na0a_SO8SDUW8hwpczDvRuvh3YtI/s1600/St+Michaels+and+St+Josephs+,devonport.jpg" height="320" width="202" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The chapel where my great grandmother Florence married her sailor husband William Whelen. It has been demolished now, but the stone wall remains....and I have sat on it, pondering about Florence, her husband William and her brother Leopold who witnessed the wedding.</td></tr>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Not being aware of any Roman Catholic connections in the
family, I had been surprised to see that great grandmother Florence had married
in the Royal Navy’s RC chapel. I have since found baptism and confirmation
records for some of her children, and indeed have traced some of them to orphanages run by the Roman Catholic Church for destitute children of Catholic
sailors. ( Florence died at 39, leaving 6 children aged between 9 and 18. )</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So...the Catholic connection was made. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Information I have discovered more recently has shown that
the Murch family were indeed religiously “ interesting”.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Census information told me that Leopold and his family became
part of the Salvation Army. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I spent some time in Devonport and Plymouth a couple of
years ago, researching this part of the family. It is clear that mid to late 19<sup>th</sup> century Plymouth was a pretty unpleasant place to live.
Pubs and beer halls were on every street corner. Drunkeness, gambling and
violence, prostitution and extreme poverty were rife. It is little wonder that
the Temperance Movement, and the Salvation Army, dedicated to getting rid of
the evils caused by the misuse of alcohol thrived in this part of the country.
The town centre has been redeveloped, mainly due to having been flattened
during WW2 bombing, but in parts of the city, some of the old Victorian
pubs remain.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvupM3hILkPknKDdmWvwzZU3xQMoG2hfBZLW740jVzzMzjG9GvDpr9L18m2yeTV2L8STNR-WcCLd2bCXfPj3q9TQOSV1ht7YAk7DWeEk7UUtvAgqtCTsFHxa4lft49w-HZhUs58qcWpCd5/s1600/P1010064.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvupM3hILkPknKDdmWvwzZU3xQMoG2hfBZLW740jVzzMzjG9GvDpr9L18m2yeTV2L8STNR-WcCLd2bCXfPj3q9TQOSV1ht7YAk7DWeEk7UUtvAgqtCTsFHxa4lft49w-HZhUs58qcWpCd5/s1600/P1010064.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There were literally hundreds of pubs and beer houses like this in Plymouth .....alcohol was available on every street corner !</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Even now, it is not hard to imagine what some of those Victorian
streets would have been like when Leopold was a boy.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Leopold’s 1922 obituary, in War Cry, the Salvation Army’s publication, explained that his wife, Rosina had
attended a meeting in Devonport, in 1882 and had spent the next few days
persuading her dock labourer husband to join the Army, with her.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRETDeECiDL09QodytM8Nuoo1O3pDC5TpdMNOcWS6Jk-qJwTnjdNSz39qV0CTWsYnN2zgPZ5Q-B9Wvy0-p2ocRsFerSz7gUTGJ0euH8t5fj8eJtlkdzhkJbPYHHFzGvqKd7ywF3MAhusAU/s1600/Rosina+A+G+Murch+1925a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRETDeECiDL09QodytM8Nuoo1O3pDC5TpdMNOcWS6Jk-qJwTnjdNSz39qV0CTWsYnN2zgPZ5Q-B9Wvy0-p2ocRsFerSz7gUTGJ0euH8t5fj8eJtlkdzhkJbPYHHFzGvqKd7ywF3MAhusAU/s1600/Rosina+A+G+Murch+1925a.jpg" height="320" width="304" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rosina Lavis, who married Uncle Leopold in 1878 and persuaded him to join the Salvation Army in 1882</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The obituary said:<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“This meant disconnection from many old and dear
associations – a hand bell band in which he had played since childhood, an
orchestral band, and the Volunteers’ band. “</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It continued:<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“ In those days, of course, The Army was widely
misunderstood even by good people, and his friends and relatives declared that
he had gone mad to become associated with it. “</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I have since discovered that Leopold was involved in anti Salvation Army riots in
Barnstaple and Eastbourne. He campaigned with “the Founder” ( William Booth )
in Cornwall. and that he played the solo euphonium in the Salvation Army International
Staff band.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzZMqCsjdOdUW7e9CIQI8y_Bjz7kpAT2hbQKMupJi4k62F872CRXCCC0wCI-8mGyeHcsLkhJrCTkLAPdSYxsUKBjrCMDvpcS42YKTsfDkNqan3Wn6D63meJlOMdM1O2AMArjQxgoOsqJ0j/s1600/Leyton+salvation+Army+band.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzZMqCsjdOdUW7e9CIQI8y_Bjz7kpAT2hbQKMupJi4k62F872CRXCCC0wCI-8mGyeHcsLkhJrCTkLAPdSYxsUKBjrCMDvpcS42YKTsfDkNqan3Wn6D63meJlOMdM1O2AMArjQxgoOsqJ0j/s1600/Leyton+salvation+Army+band.jpg" height="250" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I have no photos of Leopold...but just maybe, he is in this band ! He moved from Devonport to London, and then Essex, living in Hackney, Leyton and Walthamstow at various times....so it is just possible.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There are so many questions I would love to ask Leopold. My bigamist grandfather was his nephew. At least 4 of my grandfather’s siblings found themselves in orphanages
after their mother’s death......I wonder why Leopold and his family were not
able to help in some way....but maybe, if Leopold’s parents and siblings had cut him off when
he joined the Salvation Army...if they had thought he was mad.....maybe the wider family had lost contact by the time that
Florence’s family needed support.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Maybe, if my grandfather had been able to seek support from
his Uncle Leopold, when he came back from the trenches, he would not have
abandoned his first family, and gone on to abandon a second family, before he
finally settled with my grandmother. Of course, if that had happened...I
wouldn’t be here researching it all. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpGtAqybgP8TavBCCQXpuoKb9DzqfO1rVj_sd3r3LsF33wKJmUyj9M-RoU0_q9eRe52ysCb6YuxSrjsDnoffNZ_gq5LekQhyphenhyphenFwWDTWs4z4Fwed2KdeGiQWmwQjWF1G-5Dp8NIXaJYDZN7W/s1600/Catherine+Bramwell+Booth+(first%2Bchild%2Bof%2BBramwell%2B%26%2BFlorence%2BBooth)%2BMiriam%2Bwas%2Bher%2Bsecretary.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpGtAqybgP8TavBCCQXpuoKb9DzqfO1rVj_sd3r3LsF33wKJmUyj9M-RoU0_q9eRe52ysCb6YuxSrjsDnoffNZ_gq5LekQhyphenhyphenFwWDTWs4z4Fwed2KdeGiQWmwQjWF1G-5Dp8NIXaJYDZN7W/s1600/Catherine+Bramwell+Booth+(first%2Bchild%2Bof%2BBramwell%2B%26%2BFlorence%2BBooth)%2BMiriam%2Bwas%2Bher%2Bsecretary.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Catherine Bramwell Booth</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Leopold’s daughter Miriam became a Brigadier in the SalvationArmy,
and for many years was secretary to Catherine Bramwell Booth, one of William
Booth’s granddaughters. A search on e-bay...for Salvation Army related material (
when I was researching Leopold) led me to find some Salvation Army medals which had been
sold....inscribed for Leopold and his daughter Miriam ( mistakenly referred to
as Leopold’s wife, in the ebay listing ! )</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuWxGLhZE9XBtTRLbCBa7mzL_ix6N_8_HjsO6qTKsnd_iXEbwlGS3FgIIFpcfOm1I7qR71ZUpXuJngwaqLUmD18UPR9v_9lnyWyNojPew1rilSupawGKqsBcQ9xSU2mzUZpwBWEdRFI_8s/s1600/Miriam+Murch+1925a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuWxGLhZE9XBtTRLbCBa7mzL_ix6N_8_HjsO6qTKsnd_iXEbwlGS3FgIIFpcfOm1I7qR71ZUpXuJngwaqLUmD18UPR9v_9lnyWyNojPew1rilSupawGKqsBcQ9xSU2mzUZpwBWEdRFI_8s/s1600/Miriam+Murch+1925a.jpg" height="320" width="227" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Miriam Murch</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDcQF0llXNRy8ZMtgt7V-2b8vw8WrM7YSOoAY6yGyizgD6TUZbdKVwShaQULrH_GJnOmzbK31id_xXGin_aLClSaWbRE2kMNCzYXLM8tpGu_K2hbc0B3OY51m8VZ-5KOP3eWRFCPkFRSd4/s1600/c106b0cf-af18-4a34-aa81-ef0fdb81d573.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDcQF0llXNRy8ZMtgt7V-2b8vw8WrM7YSOoAY6yGyizgD6TUZbdKVwShaQULrH_GJnOmzbK31id_xXGin_aLClSaWbRE2kMNCzYXLM8tpGu_K2hbc0B3OY51m8VZ-5KOP3eWRFCPkFRSd4/s1600/c106b0cf-af18-4a34-aa81-ef0fdb81d573.jpg" height="150" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The medals inscribed to Leopold and Miriam Murch....sold on ebay for £200 !</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
It is amazing how the internet has enabled so much
information to be discovered by family history researchers. Just yesterday I
received a reply to a message I left on face book 3 years ago, from the ex
husband of someone I think is my cousin.....a woman who I suspect is, like me
,one of Florence’s great grandchildren. I do hope so......</div>
Janicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05449652020751269674noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-926851391080970240.post-65226463271107375202015-01-14T11:09:00.003+00:002015-01-14T16:10:09.075+00:00Remembering Uncle Donald<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">This
is another catch up sort of blog...one of those I’ve been intending to get
around to.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">After
our 6 months ( with a break back in England for hospital visits and Le Tour’s
Yorkshire depart ) in Caunes, we drove back via some WW1 war graves.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMDgtgwTB9gUS1j7AUsCdeH5toigRWVvB9bJS3XyRJYLNR0hM3V05PDuoZenAi9gnw7lb74QWB6RgyiiMX4oLZd269CslaFciajQ2EgImk6BoF7QjBpTx4algbLmrBijuFpTYuUvmaRNrz/s1600/DB-in-officer-uniform-standing.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMDgtgwTB9gUS1j7AUsCdeH5toigRWVvB9bJS3XyRJYLNR0hM3V05PDuoZenAi9gnw7lb74QWB6RgyiiMX4oLZd269CslaFciajQ2EgImk6BoF7QjBpTx4algbLmrBijuFpTYuUvmaRNrz/s1600/DB-in-officer-uniform-standing.jpg" height="400" width="201" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2nd Lieutenant Donald Barten, Royal Fusiliers.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">We
have often intended to but somehow flying south has seemed a better option than
driving, or the motorway exit we needed was closed, or time was just running
out. Anyway, this time, we made it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Our
main aim was to find Mark’s great uncle Donald’s memorial. We knew there was no
grave for him. He was involved in the Battle of Cambrai, and his body was never
recovered or never identified amongst the thousands who died there in November and December 1917.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">We
found it easily, on the edge of the village of Louverval.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-rBOWHFUSITBo0kLzK4jjwX49ABoOmkPhgfTpR5gXJmiD0brKfSPr4PsIVjOG3bG79ObV0ZFymzeOuYObiqSzGrWcafMrtghHsHGTJP3PoFo4ANm_FFPE7rMPQ-bHJvQTyls_SEstqWRe/s1600/P1050283.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-rBOWHFUSITBo0kLzK4jjwX49ABoOmkPhgfTpR5gXJmiD0brKfSPr4PsIVjOG3bG79ObV0ZFymzeOuYObiqSzGrWcafMrtghHsHGTJP3PoFo4ANm_FFPE7rMPQ-bHJvQTyls_SEstqWRe/s1600/P1050283.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">It
was a grey droukit sort of day. The rain was fine, and drenching, the clouds loomed
and we both felt fairly subdued as we parked the car just next to the Cambrai Memorial.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">It
is not one of the huge Lutyens designed memorials, and is not surrounded by hundreds of rows of symmetrical
graves which remind you of the outrageous number of dead young men lie beneath
the ground in this part of France.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbyn44e4sNYKKBjgND6nOT_JBiVjv8PSXyWOl29L8uGxzSzKjlf3Du6y_kTH2jpaSVKGnXpqW5ZW8QzU7ECBqgyHjxW_By9RhcOHxVmLAD2VS47iXDy4bpdrBKNy7nPGjo7zNmL0vDBnEh/s1600/P1050292.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbyn44e4sNYKKBjgND6nOT_JBiVjv8PSXyWOl29L8uGxzSzKjlf3Du6y_kTH2jpaSVKGnXpqW5ZW8QzU7ECBqgyHjxW_By9RhcOHxVmLAD2VS47iXDy4bpdrBKNy7nPGjo7zNmL0vDBnEh/s1600/P1050292.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">It
was small, elegant, beautifully maintained, sombre and incredibly emotional.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">We
were the only people there. However, messages written in a book at the entrance
indicated that people had visited that day, and the day before. When we finally
drove away, we saw another car draw up, and clearly other people were visiting
after us.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKtsNqyVbk9iHL4heDqxJCtt1oGJT_ETX1Z7SHaC1eQLQiZ3ss9cJG7_xzqjkdY95htdUdXuA0sN0ZUg6_Y-S4fmNp9_8u3YA169NVR9M6ZnCUBj_uy8uSq84W1UaDfcVipCh2gbbJ7Sc4/s1600/P1050288.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKtsNqyVbk9iHL4heDqxJCtt1oGJT_ETX1Z7SHaC1eQLQiZ3ss9cJG7_xzqjkdY95htdUdXuA0sN0ZUg6_Y-S4fmNp9_8u3YA169NVR9M6ZnCUBj_uy8uSq84W1UaDfcVipCh2gbbJ7Sc4/s1600/P1050288.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-n2UcEhcMGFMHxZ0zFlW1Xi8mCqQONmwd0CLUq3_TQWxdyZfcmY5bxgFZLLe7-PTT3lc4C2SnUIFX23vMAxzfxxkUgYbK3XiDBgJXAB-HP_a9Cg-lR-FIN5sXZvDU5SrjStpSGQgpOR4h/s1600/P1050290.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-n2UcEhcMGFMHxZ0zFlW1Xi8mCqQONmwd0CLUq3_TQWxdyZfcmY5bxgFZLLe7-PTT3lc4C2SnUIFX23vMAxzfxxkUgYbK3XiDBgJXAB-HP_a9Cg-lR-FIN5sXZvDU5SrjStpSGQgpOR4h/s1600/P1050290.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">We
found Uncle Donald’s name on the wall. We left his picture and an entry in the
visitors’ book to mark our thoughts, and we wandered among the few surrounding
graves in the , by now, pouring rain. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5AtfzY_TeSHMDKrZ_QdxFm5X3U7IEaA4sem-nBsYf1o9rOAkhY0AspUw3lRjpm5dqZfLVzBwlJzgyyEN5D-GVRLzJm46q6lstQ9kRA3hr-DquPB4vyVO_0R9ANdkUhiEr4rS349icLCXI/s1600/P1050297.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5AtfzY_TeSHMDKrZ_QdxFm5X3U7IEaA4sem-nBsYf1o9rOAkhY0AspUw3lRjpm5dqZfLVzBwlJzgyyEN5D-GVRLzJm46q6lstQ9kRA3hr-DquPB4vyVO_0R9ANdkUhiEr4rS349icLCXI/s1600/P1050297.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span>
<span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Donald Barten was a Second Lieutenant in the 8th Royal Fusiliers when he was reported missing on 30th November 1917. He was 28. His body was never recovered and a year later his mother was informed that he had probably died on the day that he was reported missing.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV57HhAM_LpAXGOPn50Cep8Nn945MJQEIj0GZJN-mh7uPRMbZspZBem6VDLeyShWpAEVbtVguPcy8XWhdy8SB3FKDJAEJ-NQHr4VV-IgoYwpCRQlKrAu31YgYgR6aWnqk3Rlr8mVYX_iQF/s1600/War-diary-large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV57HhAM_LpAXGOPn50Cep8Nn945MJQEIj0GZJN-mh7uPRMbZspZBem6VDLeyShWpAEVbtVguPcy8XWhdy8SB3FKDJAEJ-NQHr4VV-IgoYwpCRQlKrAu31YgYgR6aWnqk3Rlr8mVYX_iQF/s1600/War-diary-large.jpg" height="267" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">An exert from the war diary, indicating that Donald Barten, among others, was missing.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">He had served in France in 1914, in Egypt in 1915. and back to France in 1916.</span><br />
<span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_UfPxKv-XHD6ef0LgiN5khcmETrYvv9RN3BYJij3_lM09PbS26LfntTr35FJHrH-HVA_Z_2RjDzoVn7efFHBt8ivc5uik9nnfdUVjdod30nC01bhVlxgaDi-CX6UkAJdoODPPBoIHI8bB/s1600/DB-with-children.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_UfPxKv-XHD6ef0LgiN5khcmETrYvv9RN3BYJij3_lM09PbS26LfntTr35FJHrH-HVA_Z_2RjDzoVn7efFHBt8ivc5uik9nnfdUVjdod30nC01bhVlxgaDi-CX6UkAJdoODPPBoIHI8bB/s1600/DB-with-children.jpg" height="348" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Uncle Donald, on leave, back at home in August 1917.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">From
the memorial site, all you could see were miles of flat, agricultural land. It
was easy to imagine what had happened in these fields, based on all the films we’ve
all seen, books we’ve all read, and poetry we all know. However, the sombre
dignity of the place still took us by surprise. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">We
drove through some of the villages nearby, hardly architecturally changed in
the last 100 years. We stopped at a few other small cemeteries and memorials.
We knew about the big cemeteries, and the Lutyen’s Somme Memorial, with over
70,000 names of unidentified dead honoured...but somehow, these small spaces,
littering the farmers’ fields, clearly making turning tractors more difficult,
and needing pathways and roads across fields for visitors like us, were just
incredibly poignant.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I
had just read “Empires of the Dead” by David Crane, which is about the man who
is largely responsible for the building of the British and Commonwealth war
cemeteries.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> Fabian Ware had been a volunteer ambulance
commander in France in the early years of the Great War, and was horrified by
the way the war dead were left on battlefields, or unceremoniously buried where
they fell, in 1914. He began to record the identity and position of graves and
was responsible for the establishment of a Graves registration Commission. His
work, in getting politicians, the army, writers and architects together finally
meant that people were able to honour and commemorate the war dead.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">It
is an interesting read, but really brought to life by our visit to Cambrai.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span>
<span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">( Thanks to Julian Barnard's web site, commemorating Uncle Donald's life) <a href="http://www.julianbarnard.co.uk/1Donald_Barten/Barten-Cambrai-.htm">http://www.julianbarnard.co.uk/1Donald_Barten/Barten-Cambrai-.htm</a> )</span></div>
Janicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05449652020751269674noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-926851391080970240.post-79197583310912107022015-01-09T17:17:00.001+00:002015-01-09T20:39:18.992+00:00Thoughts turn to the garden<div class="MsoNormal">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU0a6M4R6eCmuSh0VwVbnov9DDOe_ZxWPYzGzuCM7mGHtseB8PzHYo7Zk6zVtkQBSvCsdr0d9cfABMEib6kFSr2Pj4vNOPAbqWHV7aVReQ6b7mQKif7ja4zgL7lqgvva0MHElFb274oVus/s1600/P1050182.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU0a6M4R6eCmuSh0VwVbnov9DDOe_ZxWPYzGzuCM7mGHtseB8PzHYo7Zk6zVtkQBSvCsdr0d9cfABMEib6kFSr2Pj4vNOPAbqWHV7aVReQ6b7mQKif7ja4zgL7lqgvva0MHElFb274oVus/s1600/P1050182.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our Virginia creeper...as I left it in late October.</td></tr>
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When I left France at the end of October I had plans to
organise a garden book. It was to hold photos and drawings of various parts of
the garden , with my plans for how each area would be developed.</div>
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I was inspired to undertake this project ( as well as the
actual proposed garden developments to be documented in the book) whilst
attending a gardening course held at La Petite Pepiniere in Caunes just before
I headed back to the UK for the winter.<br />
<br />
La Petite Pepiniere is a magical specialist garden/nursery owned by Gill Pound in Caunes.)<br />
<br />
( Gill's web site is <a href="http://www.lapetitepepiniere.com/">http://www.lapetitepepiniere.com/</a> ) and shows what a fabulous place it is.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIAM79hyphenhyphenj0OF6tuz-zHPc25FusSLZ08nhJZwKiJnSTN02quqR5icWD4h6FuV-YhXuZBfgxqi9MTeTD_o6n-RypBp0uyIanH6FKxwKzq-t7RloJiuQgIWy6gM20TAhDT3mDFpv-rar6wF7D/s1600/P1050074.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIAM79hyphenhyphenj0OF6tuz-zHPc25FusSLZ08nhJZwKiJnSTN02quqR5icWD4h6FuV-YhXuZBfgxqi9MTeTD_o6n-RypBp0uyIanH6FKxwKzq-t7RloJiuQgIWy6gM20TAhDT3mDFpv-rar6wF7D/s1600/P1050074.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Gill, during one of our classroom sessions.</td></tr>
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The course, was a 2 day event, run by Gill, and concentrated on gardening in a Mediterranean climate.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1QlM5eVNni1Lhw4fy6yKLPaUg5jKjV0qbIIZFQV1v-Q50dyZvkFJsHWGj19CufAEZGZ2BfHORRIU-9KpQrDl9BijqtHfNalGP4q9DKmWXHGBN5ZJiTB0VEOvOS9iiNm8r11IBEXX_ly5S/s1600/P1050034.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1QlM5eVNni1Lhw4fy6yKLPaUg5jKjV0qbIIZFQV1v-Q50dyZvkFJsHWGj19CufAEZGZ2BfHORRIU-9KpQrDl9BijqtHfNalGP4q9DKmWXHGBN5ZJiTB0VEOvOS9iiNm8r11IBEXX_ly5S/s1600/P1050034.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Much of the course was spent walking around the garden at la Petite Pepiniere, with Gill, showing us examples of the successful planting she has undertaken in her Caunes garden.</td></tr>
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I learned so much. I learned that the less than 3% of the
world’s surface which can be categorised as having a Mediterranean climate (
areas surrounding the med ...surprise surprise, California, Chile, S Africa and
SW Australia) produce 16% of the world’s plants.</div>
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Our bit of the world does suffer from extremes
though....heat, drought, wild winds, cold winters, snow, hail, frost and
difficult soils. It seems miraculous that anything grows and survives at all. One of the things I learned from Gill was about how plants have evolved and adapted to their environment......and
as the climate has only been like it is now for 3 million years, many plants
are still evolving . So...things in the garden are basically unpredictable.</div>
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Our garden in Caunes is beautiful.....but difficult. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOMvMRcwhyPKm6X545mUfFlj0BVrZs6n7pPccr86zZC414h2rDnYMURGTpu8SthNPFM9E8gl-AkyBGmH8alAafiX7lYSbd0KbGzhDFOJYJmoL72Gh2UE17zJPQpKNKZBDlPG3_8qFHt3Pw/s1600/P1050274.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOMvMRcwhyPKm6X545mUfFlj0BVrZs6n7pPccr86zZC414h2rDnYMURGTpu8SthNPFM9E8gl-AkyBGmH8alAafiX7lYSbd0KbGzhDFOJYJmoL72Gh2UE17zJPQpKNKZBDlPG3_8qFHt3Pw/s1600/P1050274.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The pine forest behind the big oak....a cypress, and some prickly pears hiding behind the ivy and virginia creeper.</td></tr>
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We have terracing, virtual rock, rather than soil in some
parts, evergreens, conifers, a few broadleaf plants and trees, bulbs, (
hundreds of wild irises) orchids, native garrigue shrubs, vines, and my annual
attempts at vegetables in the potager.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2mGVLC4OPVLzNhuuslLP7Dl0yh8h3oF-_jucnnHQZD0cTBmLVJ0SpbEbmUetjS1qCKinhJXZ7USaMOLmIgI9Y3ShojoyA8X4pDDOHbrRbr-t1Er2A73aKdTpmew7EU5_OgW8drHIxHFHT/s1600/P1050264.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2mGVLC4OPVLzNhuuslLP7Dl0yh8h3oF-_jucnnHQZD0cTBmLVJ0SpbEbmUetjS1qCKinhJXZ7USaMOLmIgI9Y3ShojoyA8X4pDDOHbrRbr-t1Er2A73aKdTpmew7EU5_OgW8drHIxHFHT/s1600/P1050264.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">beyond the potager.....the start of a playground area....see-saw and sand pit planned for next year....the grandchildren want a slide and a climbing frame as well......mmmm, we'll have to see.</td></tr>
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We have almond trees, a wide variety of oak trees, green fig
trees, a gorgeous purple fig tree, olive trees of various ages and sizes and a
couple of small apple trees which fruited for the first time last summer and newly planted cherry trees which have yet to crop.<br />
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We have enormous succulents, aloe veras to die for, a rather pathetic looking palm
that replaced the huge 25 year old one that was killed off by the 2 weeks of
snow and freezing temperatures in the winter of 2011, rose bushes, lavender and
large rosemary hedges throughout the garden.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho5lvxqrw8jWXi74aJMRkVeffrXU8Mk1zvRLeuKlMksMGM7Ct2X8r7RPoSH1VkC6flya2Y4s-L7OA4sQV9Wh-Mb3giAoIIoLoMJYsovqjD-f6OFMQFgs1y960tBVL2fFtvA666lE10n6PS/s1600/P1050219.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho5lvxqrw8jWXi74aJMRkVeffrXU8Mk1zvRLeuKlMksMGM7Ct2X8r7RPoSH1VkC6flya2Y4s-L7OA4sQV9Wh-Mb3giAoIIoLoMJYsovqjD-f6OFMQFgs1y960tBVL2fFtvA666lE10n6PS/s1600/P1050219.JPG" height="640" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some of the succulents</td></tr>
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When we first arrived in Caunes, we asked Gill to come up to
the house and walk around the garden with us, telling us what we had, and
advising us on what we should do with it all.</div>
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Her advice was to live with it, watch it, see what happened
with each season and gradually develop sections at a time, as we worked out how
the land surrounding our new home could work best for us.</div>
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We determined that some of the huge fir trees surrounding
the pool should be removed.</div>
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Doing so enabled other plants to grow in their
place, removed the huge shade area from the pool, and gave us fabulous views
over the village.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We kept many of the cypress trees as well as the most beautiful of the firs...giving some architectural structure to the pool surround.</td></tr>
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We cut back and then removed the prickly pears that bordered
pathways, enabling us...and visiting grandchildren to walk through the garden
without being impaled.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG562A3hh4VqBuF2NCtJt_uhKHF-GWuTfhjIZBasEfoOvB00xFMMPURQtCzAEGq8hrV_Z-zjUapTGlI1h4LTF4vXYfrxyEpqiKFaK5MBiFGln46RNJZnXw46UAxuRTJ5cqTj2FXMCEIWnE/s1600/P1030954.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG562A3hh4VqBuF2NCtJt_uhKHF-GWuTfhjIZBasEfoOvB00xFMMPURQtCzAEGq8hrV_Z-zjUapTGlI1h4LTF4vXYfrxyEpqiKFaK5MBiFGln46RNJZnXw46UAxuRTJ5cqTj2FXMCEIWnE/s1600/P1030954.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
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We removed some of the wild iris bulbs....they bloom when we
are not in Caunes, and leave untidy browning foliage for the rest of the
year....this is great in the parts of the garden we have left “wild”...but in
front of the house, we replaced them with some native salvias which bloom all
summer and provide a gorgeous backdrop to sitting on the terrace, sipping the
odd glass of wine.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5Shi2iOQY4gE8tJ_jJyOnGzTduy_vR-oJwPzWwMCDfwrd2YtuZzOGsl4_vy6y3TahSR6FZiO85SwGdAq_2gydF7_ICkhDBCXEpmcHGCa4uXpwYGHsP2n0gfZ8yxHxRntxTDAhkU3YVqQx/s1600/P1030469.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5Shi2iOQY4gE8tJ_jJyOnGzTduy_vR-oJwPzWwMCDfwrd2YtuZzOGsl4_vy6y3TahSR6FZiO85SwGdAq_2gydF7_ICkhDBCXEpmcHGCa4uXpwYGHsP2n0gfZ8yxHxRntxTDAhkU3YVqQx/s1600/P1030469.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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My garden book project has not even been started yet....just
as my planned blog about the wonderful gardening course run by Gill has not yet
emerged. My last blog....a month ago, was mainly about my inability to get
things done, and things don’t seem to have improved. So I thought I would make
a start and include a little about Gill and her beautiful garden, her brilliant
gardening courses, and get my mind working on thinking about the garden in
Caunes.<br />
<br />
It is good to think that already the days are getting longer.....and spring isn't too far away. Although we wont be going back to Caunes for our next 6 month stay until May, we are popping over to do some pruning during the first couple of weeks in March......not long now.</div>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;">Anyway....for Christmas, I received an excellent gift from Mark....no, not some
amazing piece of jewellery, but a Bosch garden shredder. Mulching will begin as
a major operation, when I get back to Caunes and start shredding all my
prunings. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span>
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<span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;"><br /></span>Janicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05449652020751269674noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-926851391080970240.post-88899311438626966772014-12-06T18:46:00.002+00:002014-12-06T18:46:41.587+00:00Buzzing around<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYMg540yIjmt8IAFA25KBBNbq4GpzH0bL8TVJMbDmK3XNaVkx_nWThe9PjIG4JWmxWQq4ktYfoOrgKJa2J6LcuxfAxr4QJ4VbCF9NwYmZcOgWoeB9_oa4Bxm9EphmIUAB3-_8TIwnQEEW2/s1600/P1050535.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYMg540yIjmt8IAFA25KBBNbq4GpzH0bL8TVJMbDmK3XNaVkx_nWThe9PjIG4JWmxWQq4ktYfoOrgKJa2J6LcuxfAxr4QJ4VbCF9NwYmZcOgWoeB9_oa4Bxm9EphmIUAB3-_8TIwnQEEW2/s1600/P1050535.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beautiful Stoodley Pike</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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I have so many potential posts buzzing around my head at the
moment. </div>
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I have been wanting to blog about gardening in the
Minervois, comparing it with the Yorkshire gardening I do, including some
details about a wonderful gardening course I went on in Caunes, just before I
left.</div>
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I want to write about some of the walks I've done since being back in Yorkshire.</div>
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I have loads I want to write about working in the Hospice
shop.....although, the manager and I have joked about the TV sit-com we could
write....so maybe the blog will have to wait until we have become famous as
writers of the latest block busting TV show. Now Miranda is ending her
show...maybe she’ll be available to play one of the volunteers. </div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu5njdWkxWNNjnwX7K5fDPPch8tRr_IlksxKvCqKCDcFPhICz0Hgtvu1NEqA12KZ517TUlXvXNa0JOuZyc9zyX_x_Gpca1cTTSGqPAjCl01fia8zjSEHy34rd1OR45cimm2A4HovpJfSw_/s1600/P1050526.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu5njdWkxWNNjnwX7K5fDPPch8tRr_IlksxKvCqKCDcFPhICz0Hgtvu1NEqA12KZ517TUlXvXNa0JOuZyc9zyX_x_Gpca1cTTSGqPAjCl01fia8zjSEHy34rd1OR45cimm2A4HovpJfSw_/s1600/P1050526.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Christmas meal with the staff and volunteers from the Overgate Hospice shop in Hebden Bridge.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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I have made some breakthroughs in my family history research
and want to share some of that. Discovering the dying words of a great uncle
and aunt, through a “War Cry” article from the 1920s, was quite something. So I
now have the urge to share a little about the life of my great uncle Leopold his wife and his amazing children.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUYoXdsz3T86S3-Ex_7mTQTyxOB9vIN2ckvRqYv00pVrFqjqbv-afyPC0X1zKrUkV7Blqj9QkhHB1yOKkQlS5QZ0oPDvrHGIV3LvVnEHrDRVJoVIJF8e0gyU2oMFt-BY9vpyzUg5n_T8hp/s1600/Miriam+Murch+1925a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUYoXdsz3T86S3-Ex_7mTQTyxOB9vIN2ckvRqYv00pVrFqjqbv-afyPC0X1zKrUkV7Blqj9QkhHB1yOKkQlS5QZ0oPDvrHGIV3LvVnEHrDRVJoVIJF8e0gyU2oMFt-BY9vpyzUg5n_T8hp/s1600/Miriam+Murch+1925a.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Miriam Murch....one of my great uncle Leopold's children, who devoted her life to the Salvation Army</td></tr>
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Today I became livid to discover that the law supposedly
ending the use of wild animals in British circuses has been stalled due to the
outrageous ignorance and stupidity of 3 Tory mps. I blogged earlier in the year
about the awful situation in France, when I stumbled upon tigers and a hippo
being caged up on a traffic island in Carcassonne prior to being dragged around
the French countryside in wagons no bigger than a postage stamp. Now I find
that the Brits are just as bad. Aggghhhh.</div>
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So.....as all these things pile up in my head, and Christmas
approaches, and there are walks to go on, French to practice, my up and coming
60<sup>th</sup> birthday party to plan, grandchildren to spend time with,
concerts in Hebden Bridge to attend, and of course, the shop to work
in......nothing is getting written.</div>
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I am reading blogs, perhaps not interacting through
commenting as much as I’d like to.....but time just seems to dash on.</div>
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Anyway, if I don’t get around to blogging again before
Christmas, I hope you all have a really happy one.</div>
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I will write the
things I am thinking about.....but it
may be a while before I get around to them.</div>
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In the meantime, I’m just going to include a few photos of
my very small and crowded “workspace”. Calling it an office would be
overstating things. It is more like a very crowded cupboard. I hope to be spending more time in it soon, so I can get these buzzing blogs written.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5OAqJUavxtsXFnfBoS2rM3o0rU7pr5P9ajgGmPmRSLy1m4psHjVK808AJXnbDJ2p6s1yOEfTakmJIx5FBTUtwpzdG_b_u6p0fyMflb8HxOTNVHo31c1MILhpxbEF8jddM5Vpi_F5rGCAL/s1600/P1000010.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5OAqJUavxtsXFnfBoS2rM3o0rU7pr5P9ajgGmPmRSLy1m4psHjVK808AJXnbDJ2p6s1yOEfTakmJIx5FBTUtwpzdG_b_u6p0fyMflb8HxOTNVHo31c1MILhpxbEF8jddM5Vpi_F5rGCAL/s1600/P1000010.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwVx9oG4cOSUGh_UiLkmwcjeoFmYkHYe3yTVMRMtLFliZbVCn2BOQpXjfM_4_MN4N9CEgKlmbTpcqAJv6Fcn-N-vK4t6uL5OtWTJQwOn5ti6z_V3FsThpKQYdAXHG8ge7P6ZuOIeqPMO0K/s1600/P1000012.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwVx9oG4cOSUGh_UiLkmwcjeoFmYkHYe3yTVMRMtLFliZbVCn2BOQpXjfM_4_MN4N9CEgKlmbTpcqAJv6Fcn-N-vK4t6uL5OtWTJQwOn5ti6z_V3FsThpKQYdAXHG8ge7P6ZuOIeqPMO0K/s1600/P1000012.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnX0r1yhtKLQCai9bdJblK_Hswqdd2-Kw15RRGnv_rwKXfuUqHQAlvmiksJEvffg9F0SY3wIPJdSa5QbRXm5cK8W5s9ddTNE-oG-1cw1xQQRhZjNXBuxlHmmAJ1zj5o4begDEGKZ-UHeBu/s1600/P1000013.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnX0r1yhtKLQCai9bdJblK_Hswqdd2-Kw15RRGnv_rwKXfuUqHQAlvmiksJEvffg9F0SY3wIPJdSa5QbRXm5cK8W5s9ddTNE-oG-1cw1xQQRhZjNXBuxlHmmAJ1zj5o4begDEGKZ-UHeBu/s1600/P1000013.JPG" height="192" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">All of the above photos show my "workspace"......the last image being my grandfather, with his 3 wives. Technically, only the first, Hylda, was really his wife. My grandmother, on the right,Queenie, was the third.</td></tr>
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Janicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05449652020751269674noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-926851391080970240.post-13223491841047416012014-11-21T12:38:00.000+00:002014-11-21T12:38:01.715+00:00Attic emptying and the joys of other people's junk.<div class="MsoNormal">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkrToEIzWQDMBG_u8EoOfpGDg8MfBY2UkZAxypPni3ctKgUo7uKJFMAKcQwwIByEeih-IYmVin5RZvAQKNtiSpay_GUbS7lFjVf0GpwqQ-AuPNV6yB0Qlz_yOjw8tASdovQZlpCOqmPmYb/s1600/sanglier.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkrToEIzWQDMBG_u8EoOfpGDg8MfBY2UkZAxypPni3ctKgUo7uKJFMAKcQwwIByEeih-IYmVin5RZvAQKNtiSpay_GUbS7lFjVf0GpwqQ-AuPNV6yB0Qlz_yOjw8tASdovQZlpCOqmPmYb/s1600/sanglier.jpg" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I think I can do without this in my home.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I rarely visit car boot sales in England. I used to go to
antique fairs quite often, but now,only go to one if it is very local and the
parking is easy. Partly this is because I believe I have conquered my hoarding
tendency, and am realistic enough to know that my little Hebden Bridge house is
already stacked so high with much loved treasures and there really isn’t any more
space !<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijsuyPEU-ZX4XiKlR2Ee-klFXmQmdLNMmArGH5IKnjcIbGFpTfTjxczZX2UUsG2xCBSAQmz0Fd_2PU8Ypuz-_YWLqAkRWaDaose4jcYHwkWewr_FsZzBCkooGZp9GXIQLWwV-GRZ9LaDLp/s1600/P1020880.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijsuyPEU-ZX4XiKlR2Ee-klFXmQmdLNMmArGH5IKnjcIbGFpTfTjxczZX2UUsG2xCBSAQmz0Fd_2PU8Ypuz-_YWLqAkRWaDaose4jcYHwkWewr_FsZzBCkooGZp9GXIQLWwV-GRZ9LaDLp/s1600/P1020880.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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France is somehow different. The house is bigger I suppose,
so there is more room to display amazing finds. The real difference however, is
that vide greniers are just so much more fun than car boot sales......and the
weather tends to be better !<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigIj7rpR6nvx1_snqirjaWhyphenhyphen9T6CkL93hoU37R8J9umZxN4MiIzDSA1ofK14pBNRs7_LyW66uToqcoF7B8YE6a4M2Kmo0L_ZHwnz997N8UjXVgYSUOstmsIaP_hVT8xf5FO4SZtMH_OgVM/s1600/P1020378.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigIj7rpR6nvx1_snqirjaWhyphenhyphen9T6CkL93hoU37R8J9umZxN4MiIzDSA1ofK14pBNRs7_LyW66uToqcoF7B8YE6a4M2Kmo0L_ZHwnz997N8UjXVgYSUOstmsIaP_hVT8xf5FO4SZtMH_OgVM/s1600/P1020378.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A gorgeous old French board game.....ludo with horses.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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I have made some great buys over the last 3 years at vide
greniers. Children’s toys are always available, and our grandchildren have
benefited from many French children growing out of their toys and buggies.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6IH5Qrgqss2uwc-DJRhEqivQir7jl15T2_8kVm1sqh8LgqERyLcIDHvoPv43z0k0VPsNJrGrS6repCqj9WOZD-TVNAjaztASxmncbdG3Y6lNQZvwK7UcyXaZA2n9TWPbp35zGt9YbIv7b/s1600/P1020582.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6IH5Qrgqss2uwc-DJRhEqivQir7jl15T2_8kVm1sqh8LgqERyLcIDHvoPv43z0k0VPsNJrGrS6repCqj9WOZD-TVNAjaztASxmncbdG3Y6lNQZvwK7UcyXaZA2n9TWPbp35zGt9YbIv7b/s1600/P1020582.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Liam...thrilled with a 1 euro purchase.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
I
have also started a pot dog collection,<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYJ5HHNQASZKaiUeEcqlbwMrfQa994bebg9uJ8E8XMotuZxCU2dSq1259uq7w_ciTs9vTN_wjWHM14QnTFHhbaqjNIYTQNupjirR309PthKrbHxCwDmgeWXkfLHhLpvH7tSDPTxUsvOqcj/s1600/P1020380.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYJ5HHNQASZKaiUeEcqlbwMrfQa994bebg9uJ8E8XMotuZxCU2dSq1259uq7w_ciTs9vTN_wjWHM14QnTFHhbaqjNIYTQNupjirR309PthKrbHxCwDmgeWXkfLHhLpvH7tSDPTxUsvOqcj/s1600/P1020380.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This was the first dog ...the pack now consists of 4 of them.....and I reckon I've got space for another few.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I have found some other great pottery,
acquired fabulous casserole dishes and remain constantly on the look out for framed
photographs of soldiers. I am also seriously upset when I see old photos, no
longer wanted by family members, for sale for a few euros. So far I have
resisted the temptation of providing a home for hundreds of strangers photos.
Mark is hoping I manage to keep resisting that particular temptation.<br />
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-IYHxo4tzSVwdI8CTmyoPHbfvRsyftdL6x0SiUv3s8VL8gpb4ULfvS3pTYUjKVY5GS1564vS2DWtOltjORgrSaBq2p4MAN-rh0dixehi1ueu5vqXrEsz2Zt2vPwEwQv9WTrzwpO1F_rg3/s1600/IMG_4545.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-IYHxo4tzSVwdI8CTmyoPHbfvRsyftdL6x0SiUv3s8VL8gpb4ULfvS3pTYUjKVY5GS1564vS2DWtOltjORgrSaBq2p4MAN-rh0dixehi1ueu5vqXrEsz2Zt2vPwEwQv9WTrzwpO1F_rg3/s1600/IMG_4545.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Here I am trying to decide whether to give this portrait a new home. I resisted...this time.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I have used vide grenier visiting as a way to discover new
villages in the Aude and in the Herault. Every Sunday, from May until November,
I have been spoiled for choice as to which towns and villages to visit.
Sometimes I manage to fit two or three in on one day.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXT2n1ohExwbxJw0xjlxfuiFtvmkp2F_jNBn73yoWyqzOUXfVumZOMrEoikjVTFtZFpcDY4-u90jHE2zadqQOTgAlHu4nTAck4nWk5V3b14YkNIhhaBpydjY-_tY7fBHqWjgefECpDUgUq/s1600/P1000773.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXT2n1ohExwbxJw0xjlxfuiFtvmkp2F_jNBn73yoWyqzOUXfVumZOMrEoikjVTFtZFpcDY4-u90jHE2zadqQOTgAlHu4nTAck4nWk5V3b14YkNIhhaBpydjY-_tY7fBHqWjgefECpDUgUq/s1600/P1000773.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Bram vide grenier was held in the grounds of a chateau.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgESkq76hMWDo8DXH1dOR5g22YDf-5CMKjiTOvAg-uLvJzgdGCh3Qi7vxmSbCtvRRuqms3DVXXfOIkDMKLiGVjCdAZIWIlixVoCyzQR_pbceSegHRQoGusCeGE-k9albN_o4q0nXSFyo-1B/s1600/IMG_4544.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgESkq76hMWDo8DXH1dOR5g22YDf-5CMKjiTOvAg-uLvJzgdGCh3Qi7vxmSbCtvRRuqms3DVXXfOIkDMKLiGVjCdAZIWIlixVoCyzQR_pbceSegHRQoGusCeGE-k9albN_o4q0nXSFyo-1B/s1600/IMG_4544.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The moment of purchase, captured .....buying a gorgeous jug and bowl set.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Sometimes, the stalls are spread out along a river bank, or
the canal. Sometimes they are just in a car park or a field...but usually, they wind
around the village streets. Some people set their stalls up outside their own
home....others arrive early and set up with a picnic to sustain them through
the day.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx1sjre3C8kBTaGpI5lrr8wkSYI2FA9xz1d6uolxoKYHy9pigbxeu44rzmurhNFYtpFyDTPFjZJr7ofgFXnxHoJRMJkfqcH1mBsRiRq7PYfGRP7JWuvWDaSciq_5S3R3I-j4k_Itx0ip27/s1600/232323232-fp83232-uqcshlukaxroqdfv9589=ot-2365=7--=;67=XROQDF-2-3;-9;-78238ot1lsi.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx1sjre3C8kBTaGpI5lrr8wkSYI2FA9xz1d6uolxoKYHy9pigbxeu44rzmurhNFYtpFyDTPFjZJr7ofgFXnxHoJRMJkfqcH1mBsRiRq7PYfGRP7JWuvWDaSciq_5S3R3I-j4k_Itx0ip27/s1600/232323232-fp83232-uqcshlukaxroqdfv9589=ot-2365=7--=;67=XROQDF-2-3;-9;-78238ot1lsi.jpg" height="298" width="400" /></a></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
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<div class="MsoNormal">
Some people sell all their old rubbish, and there are usually
some dealers who clearly make a living out of taking their stock from one village to the next. Those are the boring stalls, with the unrealistic prices. I think I've seen that sanglier ( wild boar) at several vide greniers over the last 3years.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA_BZSftw4ZgSvAR8d1sAEHXUaTkGKiF7KmTWsPD86Mnle1Zmac3bBOPrsBWm0rvWPPtPLokiRF-76ZkPTmpHaGbEmy-z8HK6u8QaBXjbpnlMsn58GG2RtsFU0R7Ryzuijqm4LLkUlv4v1/s1600/232323232-fp83232-uqcshlukaxroqdfv8-9-nu=3274-6;9--76-WSNRCG=394-;96947329nu0mrj.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA_BZSftw4ZgSvAR8d1sAEHXUaTkGKiF7KmTWsPD86Mnle1Zmac3bBOPrsBWm0rvWPPtPLokiRF-76ZkPTmpHaGbEmy-z8HK6u8QaBXjbpnlMsn58GG2RtsFU0R7Ryzuijqm4LLkUlv4v1/s1600/232323232-fp83232-uqcshlukaxroqdfv8-9-nu=3274-6;9--76-WSNRCG=394-;96947329nu0mrj.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sometimes you wonder who on earth would buy some of this stuff !<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjjV9FLRzKXHOlSxnPziZOd9H7Oy0-avTXe8qG4E3WmKA3ZTau7dIMNRaYeqm3syh-pjpfQ7mYW3Q5mV6C61n3av2__m1Uy9PZLZ80BpxM7T_9_M9d6lhs_PFxJJzTKrWDUK2Y3Uu3sQxz/s1600/P1010498.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjjV9FLRzKXHOlSxnPziZOd9H7Oy0-avTXe8qG4E3WmKA3ZTau7dIMNRaYeqm3syh-pjpfQ7mYW3Q5mV6C61n3av2__m1Uy9PZLZ80BpxM7T_9_M9d6lhs_PFxJJzTKrWDUK2Y3Uu3sQxz/s1600/P1010498.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
<br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
The best stalls are where the family has had a sort out and is getting rid of
things...emptying the attic.....which is what vide grenier means. <br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh733gzuCqdqzc7zJLfgspM_PgbCrv8kurOtkdrbxURur6-8WIeUr1m-KCM2YFW7w9Er228h89CVEXGx7HqzjYcIeQ9ifawn2vYV_DZlso0aUT5iG1U_AhztPdxFrICjJAYxWnumN3gqI6c/s1600/P1030968.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh733gzuCqdqzc7zJLfgspM_PgbCrv8kurOtkdrbxURur6-8WIeUr1m-KCM2YFW7w9Er228h89CVEXGx7HqzjYcIeQ9ifawn2vYV_DZlso0aUT5iG1U_AhztPdxFrICjJAYxWnumN3gqI6c/s1600/P1030968.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There is usually an old tool stall....dealers.....who come to each vide grenier</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibMSywtkJEqH0c_AAfTH38UoxiSoxdQFvfBgvNWHNOYNIi-dKs4dbxgFMQhyQ5OGYNLC8jpjNKYTUl1LK8jq3PjCvE8aTEi6805lhrWWanaH6jPdzzUxH9E-qCsLZQTjLHTY_rQK3fNzuo/s1600/P1000479.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibMSywtkJEqH0c_AAfTH38UoxiSoxdQFvfBgvNWHNOYNIi-dKs4dbxgFMQhyQ5OGYNLC8jpjNKYTUl1LK8jq3PjCvE8aTEi6805lhrWWanaH6jPdzzUxH9E-qCsLZQTjLHTY_rQK3fNzuo/s1600/P1000479.JPG" height="298" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Some displays are brilliant</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8s-4VNA9Kbf1-hdg8s2RuPuPgXXvy1WTzmTv1RGd4JI7nmmKiF8ov30nWymxCycWswoSO0FLFgnGrXuabRDFkHSmuHMytbOyivwC60QiqSxinGjGeiGrlfS_1HVOy5BuIYVNlC9_U6KVO/s1600/232323232-fp83232-uqcshlukaxroqdfv4854=ot-2365=7--=;67=XROQDF-2-3;-9;-79238ot1lsi.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8s-4VNA9Kbf1-hdg8s2RuPuPgXXvy1WTzmTv1RGd4JI7nmmKiF8ov30nWymxCycWswoSO0FLFgnGrXuabRDFkHSmuHMytbOyivwC60QiqSxinGjGeiGrlfS_1HVOy5BuIYVNlC9_U6KVO/s1600/232323232-fp83232-uqcshlukaxroqdfv4854=ot-2365=7--=;67=XROQDF-2-3;-9;-79238ot1lsi.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This tile pot stand has lovely little rounded feet....and I love it. I splashed out on this one....it cost me 5 euros.<br />
<br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
People chat, people bargain, I practice my French and most of the time everyone
smiles. Sellers being happy to not have to take stuff home with them, and
buyers pleased with their bargains.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjttjK7PNC4j7OpKWtR-92TzcdmyxzLr4N0UvFBn1F6MpcDYTyidYg4Y6uvv0u2_SiASbVBL6GeQ8GesTfN_ezCwIMSbhHH25-5U4x7Lmc03hiNY0kQ_mzvb3RuhIztm114Stsmy2AC36gK/s1600/P1040499.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjttjK7PNC4j7OpKWtR-92TzcdmyxzLr4N0UvFBn1F6MpcDYTyidYg4Y6uvv0u2_SiASbVBL6GeQ8GesTfN_ezCwIMSbhHH25-5U4x7Lmc03hiNY0kQ_mzvb3RuhIztm114Stsmy2AC36gK/s1600/P1040499.JPG" height="464" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There is no doubt about it...other people's junk can be fascinating....not sure that the crib looks very inviting with the fox in it though.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzLvmlvcSx4-UUjkIhyphenhyphenzG9CbwSnaIpEEN0vME4ZEoLwqWQGM4dbW8DHm4mJw7Ytm_FghWpmM0z71NYsTJTVvtmoqAiqypDygww6b-DvSMwrx86rJa2jC0vFJMbV3RCKbtTmy0Z0KxRnvIO/s1600/IMG_4058+-+Copy.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzLvmlvcSx4-UUjkIhyphenhyphenzG9CbwSnaIpEEN0vME4ZEoLwqWQGM4dbW8DHm4mJw7Ytm_FghWpmM0z71NYsTJTVvtmoqAiqypDygww6b-DvSMwrx86rJa2jC0vFJMbV3RCKbtTmy0Z0KxRnvIO/s1600/IMG_4058+-+Copy.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I love this pharmacy jar. It is Limoges pottery, and cost me all of 2 euros....and I love the idea of having a pot of the elixir of long life sitting on the piano.<br />
<br />
<br />
.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br /></div>
Janicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05449652020751269674noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-926851391080970240.post-22390430725183444072014-11-15T13:35:00.001+00:002014-11-15T13:35:42.304+00:00Yorkshire catch up time.<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzTl5TRzSb4ehQ3y7bwyb5osvQw4U1Q7Q-B3Cpe3L2Y5yfYOUvpCCyBGIzVisvDzMrC3PoGzREAeRr2R___RUpXAEF6eU_iGJURRsPhobGkADQ9aYhZDe6hI29FP3qwSLs3zf_-HMUxFDw/s1600/P1050504.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzTl5TRzSb4ehQ3y7bwyb5osvQw4U1Q7Q-B3Cpe3L2Y5yfYOUvpCCyBGIzVisvDzMrC3PoGzREAeRr2R___RUpXAEF6eU_iGJURRsPhobGkADQ9aYhZDe6hI29FP3qwSLs3zf_-HMUxFDw/s1600/P1050504.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Amazingly....this is in Hebden Bridge, not Caunes. Sun shining, window boxes still blooming away.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It is well over a month since I posted a blog. It is weeks
since I returned to Yorkshire. Since we arrived back, life seems to have been
very hectic. So this is a bit of a catch up on what we’ve been up to.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I spent some half term time with Jess in Liverpool, seeing
her classroom for the first time, since she started teaching in September.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz52IhN9N8_H294-8ZewiW1bjVBXWpGWcNknwidzC5sDeFcZYlVZD1-936qPmZ4v0UfeV2kSPllgjcndB2hiFzc-_OolgbFEkv0TcvXWbBF08vDgVU9owp3XUSFEl-7lnvycoe0-AtsRK6/s1600/P1050332.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz52IhN9N8_H294-8ZewiW1bjVBXWpGWcNknwidzC5sDeFcZYlVZD1-936qPmZ4v0UfeV2kSPllgjcndB2hiFzc-_OolgbFEkv0TcvXWbBF08vDgVU9owp3XUSFEl-7lnvycoe0-AtsRK6/s1600/P1050332.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jess in her classroom</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We have ensured we have seen plenty of the grandchildren,
including having 4 of them to sleep over for Halloween. The question is, will
we cope with all 5 of them next year...or maybe there will be even more by
then. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnpUrFJsN-rxx_5bcILPC7Vu8lc2jfHScNVMJR3xqwQp-7Ha3YRTt6zA_-E4x6yQ0IHAeoKHkypIQ1Yd_CQJwq5IfJYbiwHRo1vlfM5OjslMvXiVCTDPqBvRL7KGjpzrluONWWwNPT3xJN/s1600/P1050368.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnpUrFJsN-rxx_5bcILPC7Vu8lc2jfHScNVMJR3xqwQp-7Ha3YRTt6zA_-E4x6yQ0IHAeoKHkypIQ1Yd_CQJwq5IfJYbiwHRo1vlfM5OjslMvXiVCTDPqBvRL7KGjpzrluONWWwNPT3xJN/s1600/P1050368.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPiLb7r9enh_WA8n5SDhnbaQ7_8qIYZE9cpfj4l4j1PlU0mUWTrd7QHfaLCUoQ6Qn0OLLFDtuktcltiMSJE8YpFR9nKN0jNdusqRxqA7ITXLxYrqX5nRDykKWJ5UPk6urJvHhLEUWt8Qn_/s1600/P1050413.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPiLb7r9enh_WA8n5SDhnbaQ7_8qIYZE9cpfj4l4j1PlU0mUWTrd7QHfaLCUoQ6Qn0OLLFDtuktcltiMSJE8YpFR9nKN0jNdusqRxqA7ITXLxYrqX5nRDykKWJ5UPk6urJvHhLEUWt8Qn_/s1600/P1050413.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
I have returned to working my shifts at the Hospice shop,
and am loving seeing all the people I enjoy working with, as well as the
excitement of never knowing what treasures have been donated every time I walk
through the doors. The customers are pretty wonderful too.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKLEki7G9tihlOdcRNcU6nRtRl15hRFA85q7rCSDSv2_JMcN6Ldk-oYaWiM8zYkyGgOspYbEwFt-plptlJKW6Jx6GC-tsr0gDC4W5_yAzxJRxgweVrUJC5lSZyQhLRFVpgKc5IrHfJDQ60/s1600/IMG_4671.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKLEki7G9tihlOdcRNcU6nRtRl15hRFA85q7rCSDSv2_JMcN6Ldk-oYaWiM8zYkyGgOspYbEwFt-plptlJKW6Jx6GC-tsr0gDC4W5_yAzxJRxgweVrUJC5lSZyQhLRFVpgKc5IrHfJDQ60/s1600/IMG_4671.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We enjoyed putting an Armistice day window together at the Hospice shop.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I got another “all clear” from the hospital.</div>
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There have been a couple of Christmas shopping trips,a meal
out with women from the shop, coffee with a few friends to catch up, parkruns
with the children and grandchildren, dentist visits, hairdresser visits and
even a first session with the personal trainer I worked with before I was ill. I've also managed to spend a bit of time doing some family history research and have made a couple of breakthroughs that are very likely to become the subjects of future blogs.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuAX2gy-n73KtExV296xuMQB3K7MLRL_7AD67NvwuB-BNaOupkaaOCFZXHzuEYJ7B4mZytVvbkZlKom94kBo5y9NlFJLsU6lF3Ma_A3yKj1maKIM3HnqFd9AVreV2IIe278EjAQQEQuCqM/s1600/P1050511.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuAX2gy-n73KtExV296xuMQB3K7MLRL_7AD67NvwuB-BNaOupkaaOCFZXHzuEYJ7B4mZytVvbkZlKom94kBo5y9NlFJLsU6lF3Ma_A3yKj1maKIM3HnqFd9AVreV2IIe278EjAQQEQuCqM/s1600/P1050511.JPG" height="400" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My cubby hole office ( how dare the estate agent call this a 4th bedroom ! ) where I wallow in my family history research.</td></tr>
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So, all in all, I’m not surprised there has been no time for
blogging. I had various blogs from Caunes planned, and one or two of them may
emerge over time....but at the moment, it’s just a matter of enjoying the new
routines of being back in Hebden Bridge.</div>
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It is a little strange. We felt more emotional leaving
Caunes than we expected. We are missing friends from the Minervois ( looking
forward to seeing them at Christmas, when they are planning a quick trip to Hebden
Bridge), but we are really enjoying Yorkshire again.</div>
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The fact that the weather has been lovely ( until now) has
helped. The Calder Valley is stunning this time of year.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivE4eS4TYn13eINCjeqZaDyJZBKi6HO37DiaSMQZTUCbGHBpBieh4dWvnMAU_P_-nXIoQxPP8s2-naaOURtEJ-rsIlTmsmDnUvIOIbkaDTMXpso7f9RBQ_O1AlkixgVq2Ko8qbgBWzU8oF/s1600/P1050488.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivE4eS4TYn13eINCjeqZaDyJZBKi6HO37DiaSMQZTUCbGHBpBieh4dWvnMAU_P_-nXIoQxPP8s2-naaOURtEJ-rsIlTmsmDnUvIOIbkaDTMXpso7f9RBQ_O1AlkixgVq2Ko8qbgBWzU8oF/s1600/P1050488.JPG" height="640" width="460" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hebden Bridge last week.....looking so beautiful.</td></tr>
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Janicehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05449652020751269674noreply@blogger.com21