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House To Let
She comported herself with an imperiousness appropriate to the well connected memsahib she that was in her early married life half century before. In her black riding habit and veiled top hat, Mrs. Geraldine Thomas, the last private tenant of … Continue reading
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4 Comments
The McGonagall of Gaia Lane
There were several months of speculation before a new Poet Laureate was appointed in 1972, following the death of the incumbent, Cecil Day-Lewis. With unemployment reaching a record one million, and the S.A.L.T. agreement finally being signed by the Russian … Continue reading
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6 Comments
Memory at my bidding.
Over the years since my Uncle Bill’s death in 1982, I have regularly taken a less then necessary detour along Footherly Lane, and permitted myself intermittent wincing glances at Keepers Cottage. Over the course of half a century, it was … Continue reading
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A Father/Daughter Bond
When I was a little girl in the 1960s, my father, a self employed builder, worked very long hours. If I was lucky, he arrived home on weeknights before I went to bed, and I was allowed to perch on his knee … Continue reading
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The Name of the Rose
There are fashions in rose cultivation, just as there are in habits, costume, and coiffure. A nameless, ancient, pale shell pink rose used to ramble at will all over the old brick barn where my dad’s family lived at Keepers … Continue reading
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Queen, Countess, and Paupers.
The Guardians’ Building is the only remnant of the Walsall Union workhouse, whose infirmary evolved into the adjacent Walsall Manor Hospital. In its early Victorian, Italianate splendour, it is something to admire, whilst waiting on the car park for festive … Continue reading
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Getting tears from a stone
I felt that I had mildly special reasons to be excited about Terry Herbert’s discovery of The Staffordshire Hoard on Fred Johnson’s land in the summer of 2009. It fired my imagination to think that numbers of my family might … Continue reading
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9 Comments
Went to Wyrley, started early.
Fairbourne is a small Welsh seaside town boasting an attractive two-mile stretch of golden sand and a Victorian miniature railway, and a not-very-Welsh name. Much like Westward Ho! in North Devon, the resort was superimposed on a quiet rural community … Continue reading
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Faces in the Flames
It is a universal human tendency to see meaningful patterns in this life of cruel randomness. If we are lucky enough to spend a winter’s evening sitting in front of an open fire, we see faces in the flames. Most … Continue reading
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8 Comments
The Long and the Short of it.
No corsets! Bare legs! Short hair! It’s hard to realise from the distance of nine decades just how radical the young women of the post Great War period seemed to their contemporaries when they refused, in a simultaneous and victorious … Continue reading
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