To all mothers. . . .

Happy Mothers Day. 

Remembering my own mother. She died on March 20th 1982. I remember it well. I got the shock news on the telephone because I was away for the weekend. I remember the moment my friend took the call and passed the news on to me. I needed a large glass of whiskey which rendered me incapable of driving home and had to stay another night. 

Several months before, I witnessed her first heart attack. I was visiting her in her flat. She took ill. I summoned a doctor who came immediately. She had literally died on the floor. He punched down hard on her chest to try and revive her. He carried on doing this until the ambulance arrived. He broke three of her ribs. I remember looking down at her as the colour was draining out of her face and her lips had gone blue, and thinking, no you can't go yet, it isn't time.  We sat all night with her at the hospital. Watching the heart monitor going bleep bleep bleep. Please keep going. She did keep going and survived. 

A few months later came the second heart attack. My brother was with her at the time. It was too late, this time it was fatal. 

March is an emotional time for me. Mums birthday, Mums death, Brothers birthday, now he has gone as well. I am glad it's over and I can look forward to April. 

To all Mums everywhere I applaud you. It's a job that I could never do. Thank you. 

The sun is out. Enjoy your Sunday. See you soon. Toodle pip.   ilona

Can you hear me Mother

Good evening. It's been a lovely day today. I decided I would get the bus to town, and walk back. It was a bit of a last minute decision. The 1.09 bus is usually late, but today it was early, and I missed it. Not to worry, I have a plan B. I did a five mile walk around the villages. 

This morning I recorded this video. A tribute to my mum. 

Now I am eating dinner. I've made a stew with carrots, broccoli, cauliflower, Brussels sprouts, and noodles. 

Thanks for popping in. Toodle pip.   ilona

Can you see me Mother

 

Happy Birthday Mother. 107 years old today. Just to let you know, I have weathered the storm, come through fairly unscathed, and have taken everything in my stride. I have no regrets. I won't be joining you just yet Mother, still got a lot of living to do.

Love from your first born daughter, ilona

Last look inside The Old Rectory

Good morning. It's still frosty. I have been out in the back garden to break the ice in the water bowls and refill them with fresh water, which no doubt will freeze again soon. I will check them again later. The bird menu this morning is much the same as most mornings. Scraps of wet cat food left over from the day before, shop bought wild bird seed, and dry kitten food. Sometimes they get grapes and a chopped up apple if I have any. I have the fattest pigeons in the village.

Oscar cat has eaten and gone outside. Mayze cat is eating now, and Mickey cat is still in bed. He will be down shortly looking for food. 

Continuing The Old Rectory collection of photographs. I think most of us remember Terence Conran. I see copies of this book are for sale on ebay, price quoted £8.44.   If you want to read his Wiki page it is here.  It lists 32 books, and he married four times. 

The outside is creeping through the walls to the inside. 

Strange looking oddments on the sideboard.

My, that potplant has fared well over the years. 

A lot of this will have to be skipped. 

I hope someone sorts through the books. Could be some valuable historical references hidden there. 

Interesting documents from 1988. 

There must be some web sites where searches could be made to maybe find the rightful owners of these photographs. I have started to pass some of my old photographs to family members who might appreciate a look into our family history. I have some of my grandparents early life which I will keep for the time being. 

The sun is out which prompts me to go out. Not far though, Wednesday is Coffee Morning at the club. 

Catch ya later. Toodle pip.   ilona

Family fun at the park.

 It's been gloriously sunny today. This morning I went to town. I wanted to check out how busy the market is on a Saturday. They have an offer where you can rent a table for a few quid, for the day, and sell your own stuff. Things you collect, things you make, or fundraising for a charity. I wondered if it would be a good idea to give it a try to sell my arts and crafts. The tables are upstairs at the back of the market. After talking to some of the people who had rented a table, I decided that it isn't the right place for me. 

Next I went to the park to see what was going on there. It was very busy, the sun had brought everybody out. Lots to do for children, and entertainment.  

The stage was set up in front of the hall. This choir was fantastic. They did a lot of pop songs from the 80's and 90's. 

Next came a comedy dance troupe. That was hilarious. 

Inside the hall was the artist Danny Flynn. He was there last year I remember. I had to call in to see if he remembered me. Yes, he did. I will tell you what happened a year ago. A woman was looking at his pictures and wanted to buy three small ones. She asked if he took cards. He said his machine wasn't working. I was listening to this. Without a second thought I took a £20 note out of my purse and handed it to Danny. I said, there you are, you can have your pictures. The astonished look on their faces was worth every penny. I quickly left them to it and disappeared. I walked home with a massive grin on my face. That really was the best part of the day. 

Danny is a science fiction and fantasy illustrator. Take a look at his web site. He used to be a crane driver at the steel works, then went to Kingston University to study illustration. He has designed and illustrated hundreds of covers for science fiction books. 

I went to the Museum and bought an icecream. Got to have a Magnum treat. Inside there they had decorated an area like an old fashioned fairground. I had to play around with the wibbly wobbly mirrors. 

It was a nice afternoon. Stan the library man wasn't there, he was having a day off. I saw some friends, had a chat with June, Helen, and Steve, said hello to Linda, and chatted with two friends that I hadn't seen for many years. 

Are you busy this weekend. Best make the most of the nice weather. 

Thanks for popping in. Toodle pip.   ilona

Missed opportunity

 I copy here a comment from Hilde, which came in yesterday. It's worthy of a post of it's own. The last sentence struck a chord. 

- - - - - - - - - 

We have a proverb that says "When a cat has kittens in a stable it doesn´t make them horses". A lot of immigrants say they are proud of their roots and want to give their traditions on to their children. And these tradition often clashes with the way of life in Europe. There is so much talk about integration. In my opinion, You don´t get integrated, you have to integrate yourself.
Hilde in Germany

- - - - - - - - - - 

My mother came to the UK after the war. She met my English dad in Hamburg, he was a soldier in the army. I remember spending hours with her in the kitchen as she got on with the household chores. She taught me some German words, which I learnt parrot fashion. 

Much later on, when I eventually met my German brother, he was able to fill me in with what he remembers about his mother. When he eventually found us, letters started going backwards and forwards between mother and son, written in German. 

When I eventually got to meet my brother, after our mother had passed away, he was able to fill me in with what he remembered about his younger years, and how he kept in touch with his mother much later on through letters. It filled in the missing pieces of the jigsaw for me. Ingo learnt English at school. I never fully learnt German. 

So, my mother came to the UK not knowing hardly any English. I was always amused by her German accent. Father had learnt some German while stationed in Hamburg, so they were able to communicate. 

I so wished that mother had spoken to us three kids, in German, in the house. We could have grown up bi lingual. I often wondered why she did not see this opportunity. 

I know that there is not a lot of difference between an English life and a German life, but after the war my mother was forcibly made to integrate with her new English family. Life must have been pretty hard for her. 

I also found out from my brother, that my father told her she is in England now, and she has to speak English. Basically asking her to ignore her German roots. 

My point being as Hilde says, 'you have to integrate yourselves'. Mother had no choice. She was penniless with nowhere to live. I will be eternally grateful to her for making the effort and sticking it out. 

Integration is not a God given right. Anyone coming here has a choice. They either embrace the new life, or they bring animosity and resentment with them. Without proper immigration procedures in place we have no idea how their lives will pan out. 

Thank you Hilde. Have a good day. Toodle pip.   ilona

Happy Grandfathers day

 I see that it is Fathers Day today. 

I don't have many memories of my father. He wasn't involved in our upbringing, that job was left to our mother. I remember walking to the pub on a Sunday afternoon with mother and siblings. We were sat in the pub garden sipping a soft drink through a straw and eating a bag of crisps. After an hour or so we walked back home leaving father to carry on drinking with his mates. Later on when we were tucked up in bed, father arrived back home, and then the rows started. I was frightened of my dad so I kept out of his way. I'll say one thing in his favour, he always went to work to earn the money he spent in the pub. 

This was my English grandfather, Walter. It's a pencil drawing, my father was an artist. I went to stay with my grandparents most summer holidays. They lived in a cottage in the countryside. Walter was a quiet man, he loved his garden. He built me a bicycle with bits and pieces from old bikes. I remember trying it out for the first time. I was over the moon with my second hand bike. I didn't need a brand new Raleigh. 

Happy Grandfathers Day, Walter. 

Toodle pip.   ilona

Sex lesson

This is a page from my Human Biology folder, from 1962. Remember how we used to write and draw things on paper. 

There are two diagrams, the reproductive systems of both male and female. I wonder if they are now rewriting the text books. That's if there are any new textbooks being published, or is it all online now.  After all, two people from the opposite sex don't need to have any contact with each other to reproduce the next generation. Instructions on how to do that will be available somewhere. 

Some may say that modern science is marvelous because now there are ways around the problem of infertility on both sides. Two men or two women can now have babies. Who'd have thought it many years ago. I remember my mum drilling it into me to keep my hand on my halfpenny. Her nice way of telling me to keep my knickers on and don't let a boy put his hand down there. 

That's as far as the sex lesson went. I never found out how you could get pregnant through kissing and cuddling. I was too scared to try it. 

So, apparently we can dismiss any old fashioned sex lessons now because the whole way of procreating has changed. The easy way of producing a sprog still stands, but there are lots of alternative ways now. 

Life is going to be a whole lot more confusing for the younger generations. Shall we 'do it' online and put our order in? What shall we go for, male or female, or any gender in between. Or maybe someone solo might want to go it alone. So many choices. 

The choice was easy for me. Nope, not doing that. 

Thanks for popping in. Toodle pip.  ilona 

Remembering Stephen

I thought about my brother today. My younger brother Stephen. It's his birthday today. 

I don't have many photo's of Stephen. At our first house he had a pigeon loft in the back garden. We had a big garden where we could run riot, because dad never did anything with it. It was like a jungle. We had a Jack Russel which we got from the RSPCA. 

He had a Beatle hair cut. I was mad on the Beatles. 

Stephen joined the Army Cadets when he was old enough. Then later on, he joined the Regular Army. 

Me and Mum went to Whittington Barracks to watch his passing out parade. 

Then my memory of him fades. I was busy working. I remember him coming out of the army. They gave him a medical discharge. He wasn't ill, but the army taught him to drink, which was his downfall for a while. He went off the rails, what I can remember. 

I don't know what he did for a living after that. He moved to Derby and worked in a furniture shop. I had started lorry driving so I was all over the place. Stephen travelled a bit, he went to Bah Rain. I went on holiday there to see him. He had a flat with his girlfriend in Manama. I remember I wasn't able to walk around by myself  because men were staring at me. I didn't like it. 

After that he married his Indian girlfriend and they moved to Mumbai. I wanted to keep in touch with him, but he didn't reply. He distanced himself from us. We didn't hear from him for many years. He came back to the UK once as I remember. This photo was taken in our sisters garden, I think, or was it a pub garden. The last time we saw him. 

We were all on the internet then. An email came through from Stephens wife, he was very ill. He had been ill for a long time, but we didn't find out until he was taken to hospital. There was no time to go to India, and we couldn't afford the air fare. He was 59 when he passed away.

We missed out on family siblings for a long time. We went our different ways. 

I thought of my brother today. Best wishes.  ilona.  xxx

Martha

 Happy Mothers Day to all the mum's out there. My mother would have been 105 on the 4th of March. She died on the 20th of March. a long time ago, at the age of 64. 

Martha Elizabeth Helen was a brilliant mother. She lived through a very difficult time in Hamburg during the war. She came here and got married and raised three children. She was a great role model,  someone who always found a way of overcoming life's problems. A practical woman who loved her family. She taught me resilience and perseverance, and self belief. She gave me the tools to make a life for myself. I couldn't have had a better mother. 

Miss you. Lots of love always. 

Have a nice day everyone. Catch you later. ilona

Remembering Germany.

My mother was born in Hamburg. She left there to come to England after the war to marry her soldier boyfriend, my father. I remember her going back there for a holiday, she took my younger sister with her. I stayed behind to look after the house and cook the meals for my father. She couldn't afford to take us all. 

In 1974 I went by myself on an all inclusive coach trip which I booked through the TV Times magazine. I can't remember if the British coach came across the channel with us, we sailed from Harwich, or we were met by a German coach at the other side. 

What I do remember was a strange feeling I had as we were sailing up the River Elbe. Once you hit the mouth of the river it is a very long way before you get into Hamburg docks. It takes several hours. I stood on the deck watching the buildings on each side. As they got closer I felt as if I was coming home, even though I had never been there before. I became quite emotional, like this was my home and it was bringing me closer to my mother. The place where she lived before she had me. The place where half my family lived that I had never seen. 

It was a five day trip, we were booked into a hotel. We stopped off at Lubeck and I got lost, wandering around by myself. I panicked a bit and wondered what to do as I couldn't speak German. I found a very busy intersection in the centre where all the traffic was passing. I thought if I stand here and wait the coach is bound to pass by here and see me. Luckily it did. The other passengers were not best pleased that I had held them up. 

We went to Berlin, saw the Kurfurstendamm, went through Checkpoint Charlie. I remember the police getting on the coach in No Mans Land. They took all our passports away then brought them back half an hour later, and we proceeded through to the East side. They took us a drive around, we weren't allowed to stop. I remember all the buildings looked drab and grey. We went to see the Brandenburg Gate, and Charlottenburg Castle. I have photo's in my album. 

My mother had contacted her brother, my Uncle Henry, and told him the details of where I was staying. It was arranged that he would come and see me at the hotel. I was so excited, at last I would be meeting someone from my German family. I waited in reception for him to come. He didn't arrive. A staff member came to me and handed me a wrapped box. He said my Uncle had been earlier in the day and dropped off the gift. He couldn't come due to other commitments. I was so disappointed. 

I did get to see him a few years later. I stayed at his house. While I was there he gave me a set of 12 aerial photographs of Hamburg taken in 1960. All black and white with one in colour. The reason for this little story is that I no longer need these photographs. I shall never go there again. I would like to pass them on to someone who is living or has lived in Hamburg or has connections there. If not a person, maybe a museum or a place of that nature. Someone who is interested in history would find them interesting. 

If any of my German readers, or someone who knows someone who would like them, and can give me an address, I will post them. The photographs are 18cm x 24cm. With a description in German on the back. 

I had lunch with a friend today. Sounds posh doesn't it. She made egg on toast. I spent the afternoon in the garden. Mowed all the lawns and trimmed some hedges. Looks quite tidy now. 

Anyway, it's just coming up to 10pm so I'll sign off and catch you tomorrow. Toodle pip.   ilona

Brothers divided

 My brother went in a different direction to me and the rest of the family after we left school. It is sad when families lose touch with each other. Stephen joined the army cadets then the regular army. It didn't do him any favours. He was a sensitive soul and that environment was wrong for him. The army changed him. 

He became a drifter with no clear goal about his future. Eventually he ended up in India. I tried to keep in touch with him, but we didn't see him for about 17 years. One day an email came from his Indian wife. He was gravelly ill in the hospital, his time was limited. There was no time for me and my sister to go to India. It happened quickly and he passed away. He was my younger brother, two years younger than me. He was 59. 

I have an older half brother. He was brought up in Germany. We finally got to meet him because he found us at the age of 37. We met several times, him coming here and me going there. He will be approaching 80 now. Communications between us stopped once we were able to give him all the information he asked for about our mother. Now he sends a Christmas card to our sister, I don't get one.

So now I have no brothers. The reason I tell you these things is because I have just listened to an interview of Kyle Kemper, half brother of Justin Trudeau. It has made me think about my brothers. It made me sad to listen to Kyle, how communications in his family have broken down. He explains how the two brothers have gone in different directions. They are miles apart in their thinking. I hope they can come together again. Watch the video and read the article here.   

Catch ya later.   ilona

St Peters Church in Stapenhill.

Another short video I made when I visited Burton upon Trent on Wednesday. St Peters Church is close to the busy main road so there is traffic noise. My sister makes a guest appearance on this one. 

And just to wrap it up, a cute Cyril the squirrel pic. 

Thanks for watching. We'll catch up soon. Toodle pip. 

Way down upon the Swaneee River

Good morning. A trip down the motorway was planned for yesterday. I went to visit my sister in Burton upon Trent. Thankfully the weather was kind to us and we had a lovely walk through Stapenhill Gardens, and along the River Trent. There are swans, ducks, geese, and other birds in abundance here. Very shortly the leaves will have all fallen as the trees go to sleep for the winter. 

The spite at St Peters Church is visible behind the trees. I'll put a video of that in the next post. 

Swans everywhere. Watch the video if you want to see more. 

See Stapenhill Gardens, the Ferry Bridge a pedestrian walkway to the town, and the road bridge over the river. 

It was a lovely day out. My sister made a deeelishus meal, I left at 7pm and was home for 9pm. The journey there and back was stress free and I was able to maintain the 70mph limit for most of it. It is a good idea to plan a journey at the times when the commuters are not going about their daily business. 

Looks like another nice day today. I'll get some computer work done this morning then do a local walk this afternoon. 

Thanks for popping in. Toodle pip.   ilona  

Something for the weekend.

This makes me feel very emotional, and goosebumpy. Let's keep it going, let's play it over and over again. Pump up the volume, open your windows and sing along. Let's celebrate what a great country we live in. Let's all be nice to someone today, and every day.

"Land of Hope and Glory" is a British patriotic song, with music by Edward Elgar written in 1901 and lyrics by A. C. Benson later added in 1902.

Have a great weekend. Lots of love,   ilona

Happy Spinsters Day

As I don't have a dad to wish Happy Fathers Day to, haven't had one for many years, I am re naming this day, Happy Spinsters Day. So here is my special treat, egg, beans, and a veggie burger on toast for breakfast. Scrummy, lovely, and filling. 

Enjoy your daddies, whatever you are doing, and I will enjoy my Happy Spinsters Day. Toodle pip.  ilona