Showing posts with label memories. Show all posts
Showing posts with label memories. Show all posts

not a crochet hook in sight....




We've had wonderful, mellow dawns and dusks to bookend our days over the last week.  On Friday evening, Grace, mum and I headed to the harbour to watch the sun set - and to knit (mum), crochet (me) and swim - a very brave 13 year old!!!

I love the colours in the sky and the last rays of light on mum's face.



Time for a little refurbishment too - one of mum and dad's wedding presents from 1958.  I'm not sure it's Lloyd Loom but it's very similar - an ottoman or blanket box with a wicker base and a lid that has been much sat and stood on.  

One of mum's favourite story is of buying me a nurse's uniform to dress up with when I was about three years old.  She was busy in the kitchen and wondered why things had gone quiet - I was no where to be seen.  Upstairs, she found the ottoman lid open and a wee nurse fast asleep inside on the pile of quilts and blankets.  

Time for a refurb then!  It was interesting to remove the layers of fabrics from previous recoverings right down to the original dark red and gold material.  

A new lid was needed and dad got to work on that while I sprayed the wicker.  
As the paintwork dried, I recovered the newly made lid with a lovely cranberry and grape striped fabric from Laura Ashley.  

I think it looks much fresher now.... except it shows up the matching chair... and the curtains... and the room maybe needs a coat of paint now too - you know how it goes!!  Just the kind of project I love and I'm looking forward to the next bit.  It did however, satisfy the crafty thing for a day or so and I haven't touched the crochet all day - imagine! A whole 24 hours and I haven't played hooky.






What on earth is going on?

I'm sure there's a name for it, but what?

Last Thursday, we travelled to the village of Drumbo to meet my mother's third cousin - not really a long lost one as she didn't know he existed for most of her life.  In the journey to track down his own family roots, he stumbled across another cousin who'd been working with us in digging down into our own roots.

A summer-school in Brno in the Czeck Republic beckoned and so Ray thought he'd swing by Northern Ireland on the return leg of the journey home to New Zealand.

And last Thursday, we travelled to the village of Drumbo.... etc.

Ray Craven was born in 1936 - the same year as my mum, and they share a relation four generations back.  Along with other cousins, they had a good poke about the family photos and scrutinised for family likenesses (who had the same earlobes as who etc) and mum was delighted to learn that he was a layreader in his Anglican church (she'd been in the diaconate of her denomination and another cousin was a minister... so clearly God does genes too ha!)

Here's mum, Ray and cousin Eileen.


It was a good night, and "nice", we all agreed, to have our horizons broadened a little more.

Jump from Thursday to Sunday with me.

We head off to church and are settling in doing that rubber-neckin thing of who's here and who's away... and lo and behold, two rows back, I spot a couple of familiar faces.  Eyebrows leaping there too when they spot me.  Charlie and Flo were working in Seychelles with FEBA radio when I went out to do a six month stint in 1992.  I've seen them a couple of times since then, once in Nairobi (2002 I think) and once shortly after in Ireland.

They just decided to come to the coast for the day and rocked up to HRPC not knowing they'd find me there.  (Not that it would have put them off I guess.... at least I hope...)

It was one of the best services ever.  A Chinese lady who'd moved to Northern Ireland had started attending "English Corner" and in time, had chosen to follow the Lord Jesus and was being baptised.  Her faith is stronger than her English capacity so it was necessary and absolutely brilliant to have the vows and blessings translated for her during the service! 

"Nice", we thought to have our parochial little ways stretched and our horizons broadened.....

Meanwhile back at the ranch, Charlie and Flo arrived after a picnic and walk on the beach and we were thrilled to catch up with much tea and lots of laughter.  When they'd gone, we marvelled at how "nice" it was to have our horizons broadened a little more.....  (see a theme emerge?!)

Here they are with yours truely, ma and pa.


That was yesterday.  Today, a friend called to relate "devastating news".  I know Bobby Ringland well enough not to take that tone seriously.  "After knowing you all your life, I've just found out we might be related."  He's one of the nicest souls I know, so I can cope with that....

His cousin was visiting from Australia - originally from Belfast and it turned out her husband was my father's cousin. 

So the teapot was warmed again and in no time, the doorbell went and my father, aunt and mother welcomed Tom and Flo and they went through the who's-dead/alive/married/divorced routine, then the "d'you remembers" started... and then we talked about life in Oz versus life in NI and ..... yea... you're with me... all agreed that it was really "nice" to have our horizons broadened.

So what's going on?  All of a sudden, everything feels very international and intentional.... first mum's cousin, then my missionary friends, the bi-lingual baptism and then dad's cousin..... 

Answers anyone?  Oh and here they are... Tom, ma, pa, Flo and Betty.

50 things


4 birthday cakes, 1 basket of flowers, 39 friends, 2 hours of candle-light in a powercut, 4 days of celebrating. Turning the half century has been good and has reminded me how blessed I am to have so many people I love in my life - friends as well as family.

our latest graduate...

The l'il guy follows in the family tradition! It's the first non-university graduation ceremony I've been at here - though I think they're creeping in and I know they're very common in America.

It was the best entertainment for half an hour - I'm not sure when I last saw my father enjoy something so much and laughter is such good therapy. They trotted in behind the staff to their version of the drill instructor's song from Full Metal Jacket - "we are winners from the start"... and from there we had songs about numbers, colours, shapes, hygiene and a personal statement from each of them about something they'd learnt this year (table manners!).


So having been snowed out of the nativity play at Christmas, and security alerted out of sports day, nothing was keeping me away on Friday. I wouldn't have missed this for the world!

365:062 Memories


So, a treasure today. My grandfather who was with the RAF in Italy sent this box home to his family in Belfast and no one could open it! Dad - who was 11 or 12 at the time worked out the secret opening mechanism and the goodies inside were for everyone - silk stockings for gran and all the sisters, sweets and postcards for the children. It's been a great conversation piece as others try to work out how it opens.