The Harold Angel

I belong to a sentimental kind of family - the kind that remembers loved-and-lost people, that revels in sharing images in old photos, in old home movies and on video, the kind of family that not only emails candid photos to each other on birthdays and anniversaries, but also has the birthdays & anniversaries of departed relatives marked on their current calendars.
Sometimes we remember those we loved by raising a glass to toast their memories. Sometimes we remember them in .... the kitchen. Does anyone else connect certain relatives with their favorite foods? We do! Oral history tells us that Grandma Kitty loved kidney stew, horseradish and coconut macaroons, Grandpa Jim ate a whole raw onion every night before dinner, Uncle George was a broccoli fan and the key to Uncle Ollie's heart was a big dish of stuffed peppers.
Beloved Uncle Harold's favorite pie was mince - so his wife, my piano-playing Aunt Helen, made sure that a mincemeat pie was always included in the holiday desserts - a choice that was soundly rejected by the kids in my generation. Luckily for us, Harold's other favorite pie was banana cream - one we were happy to share. His December birthday plus St Nicholas Day plus Christmas also confused us into thinking that Herald Angels were Harold Angels.... not too far off the truth! He died a long time ago, but some years I find myself making a banana cream pie on my uncle's birthday and thinking about him.
Harold grew up in Chicago, second son in a big family. His dad had a furniture finishing shop where Harold learned to like making furniture as a hobby... as a young man he worked in the office of a big furniture company, falling like a rock once he saw my cute little aunt -the feeling was mutual. Harold's generosity and courtesy soon made the whole family love him. A few years after they were married, the Second World War separated them, and Harold served with the Army Air Corps (forerunner of the US Air Force) in the Mariana Islands where he worked on the cameras of reconnaissance planes. He contracted malaria, returning to the US many months after the war ended.
With no children of their own, Helen & Harold shared love and worldly goods with the children of their brothers and sisters. They were wonderful godparents! Harold bought a 16mm home movie camera to record family parties and the antics of the youngsters... and this attention made more than two dozen nieces and nephews feel special, and as time went on it was hilarious to watch ourselves grow up when the projector came out for movie shows. We saw Helen and Harold at least once a week when we were growing up, but he was usually behind the camera - not in front of it, so we don't have enough photos of him.
Aunt Helen and Uncle Harold hosted family picnics at their small, perfect cottage on a large lot - with landscaping that he designed, planted and maintained - even letting a small, flower-loving niece believe she was helping.Harold's post-war work was in textbook publishing - and that lead to a perk for us! The display books from the office were nicely bound outside but with blank pages inside. They were replaced periodically and he passed along the outdated models. Having real books in which to draw & write our thoughts let us pretend we were real writers and artists.
Helen's piano was replaced by a Hammond Organ - she delighted in leading family singalongs. Once the group stopped singing and began talking, Harold would take a turn on the bench - coaxing a different set of melodies from the keys as background music for the conversation. How I wish for a recording of even one song!
The old camera was replaced around the time the older nieces and nephews traded dolls and baseball bats for mortar boards and bridal veils - now Uncle Harold was ready to film the great-nieces and great-nephews , traveling to see the younger generations as they set up housekeeping in distant suburbs and other states. There's the camera in his hand below - outside our rickety student dwelling. They drove 1000 miles to see us, and acted as if they were visiting a palace instead of a dump, complimenting our newlywed culinary experiments as if they were dining in a fine restaurant. That's the kind of gentleman he was.
Harold died too young - long before retirement age - breaking the hearts of all he left behind. Many years later as we ring in .., gone is not forgotten... in this Christmas season, you are still our Harold Angel!

Kneeling in the Mud

We had a lot of much needed rain last night. Unfortunately that meant that the ground was too soggy for me to get back to my digging.So I headed into the garden for a little session with the macro lens and found this beauty down in the hellebore patch. Odd man out amongst the green flowers.Nearby I found this Chinese Lantern Skeleton, I was kneeling in the mud (accidental, I wobbled) trying to get a decent macro shot whenmy very cute 'assistant', Sparky made me jump, when she pushed her sweet little face into the lens. I gave her a fussing and sent her off to earn her keep, catch a mouse, preferably a rat...I picked up the displaced Chinese Lantern and tried again. Very amusing, but not what I was after.

I gave up.



I did the ironing instead.





She probably did me a favour, the ironing basket is now empty!

At the Beach!

Today, Dad took me to Limantour Beach, which I love to visit, but the waves kinda scared me. We were going to check out anything we could find for Pedro, but see what we found instead. Unfortunately, it was high tide, so there wasn't much. We'll go searching again soon. It was an amazingly gorgeolicious day. I'm watching the surf here and above, I'm exhausted after chasing the tennis balls. Then, I saw the crab and was kinda startled - cause it moved! Dad really tired me out by throwing me the ball so many times and I just had to lie down and take it all in. I had a great, great day, only it ended up with a spa treatment, cause I've gotten so dirty from the sand and mud from the last week and have to go to a fun match tomorrow - obedience, you know - yuck! Have a great Sunday everypup!xo Sammie

End of the Year

I did not get a posting written with my total year miles. In case you are interested, I ended up with 2203 miles in my log.
The breakdown is 261 miles on my hybrid (Trek 7200FX), 781 miles on my hardtail (Trek 4300), and 1160 miles on my trail bike (Trek FuelEX7). (OH, if you added it, there would be a mile missing - that was on my friend's comfort bike).
The photo with this posting was a ice covered Lake Manawa, taken during my last ride of the year.

The First Time I Drank Coca-Cola

Upon our arrival in beautiful Hong Kong in 1961, we were taken to the Ascot Hotel in Happy Valley. It will have been demolished long ago, but it was a nice family hotel and well used to having bewildered, pasty children and parents dumped upon them while apartments and school places were found. I was almost eight, my older brother, Steve was twelve and a half, Ian was less than a year old. My father was a civilian who worked for the RAF doing highly secret things. Life was too exciting for me to ponder upon that for too long.

We did, and saw, many memorable things during those early days, among them was being allowed to drink my very first ever coca cola! They were different times, a drink like that was a treat to be savoured. I can still remember the ice cold, greenish glass bottle, condensation dripping down the sides and two straws (the paper type) it felt like the height of sophistication and luxury. The taste did not disappoint!

Borrowed image

A Sophisticated Young Girl About Town

The illusion was helped by the fact that we were sitting in the bar, on high bar stools. It was so exciting. We were having a drink before going into dinner. We only stayed there for ten days, but I know that the waiters used to be highly amused because each evening I would order exactly the same meal...spaghetti bolognese with lashings of parmesan. No matter the other tempting dishes, I had found a dish that I liked and stuck to it. I wonder how long that would have lasted had we been there for three months.

Borrowed image

As we settled into our new apartment and our schools, we began to explore the island. We had lots of wonderful experiences which always involved stopping off somewhere for a drink.

Another memorable one was the 7up float - 7up with a scoop of ice cream. I didn't really rate that, as it seemed a waste of both 7up and ice cream! Oh how I loved those beautiful green bottles with the red and white label.

It was an exciting time, riding in rickshaws as a treat, visiting fabulous parks, botanical gardens, the Tiger Balm Gardens with the weird and wonderful statues, the visions of Hell, grottoes and pavillions displaying effigies of Chinese mythology. We travelled up The Peak on the Tram, got to play on some very beautiful beaches, visited a variety of parks, and crossed to the Mainland on the Star Ferry.



It became an established routine to go to Kowloon, on the Mainland, every Saturday. We would go to the YMCA to buy our English comics and magazines - Bunty, Judy, Princess, Eagle, Dandy and Beano - according to what was available, then we'd settle down for a drink in the cafe. I'm not quite sure why, but we always drank tinned milk. Ice cold tinned milk. I think it was called Tongala - but I may be wrong. I was always fascinated at the triangular punch holes which were made in the top, then a straw was popped in. It was sterilised milk, but after the heat and bustle of the journey it tasted wonderful!

Quite often we'd go the Victoria Barracks Swimming Pool and after swimming and splashing all afternoon our drink would be Green Spot Orange Juice. Glass bottles, paper straws, ice cold. It was wonderful.

One of the lovely parks which we visited regularly had a big pond in the middle with a cafe to the side. After running around and letting off steam we go there for a drink. We always had the Apple Float. This was actually a pineapple float and was totally delicious, a mix of pineapple juice, fizzy water, tiny ice cubes, and pineapple pieces.

One drink I never got to try, but which always intrigued me, was a dirty milk coloured drink which came in the ubiquitous glass bottle of the time. I think it may have been a type of soya bean milk, but I could be mistaken. My mother was quite adamant that I wouldn't like it and that was the end of that!

So there you have a whistle-stop tour of beautiful Hong Kong, via some of the soft drinks we enjoyed. I could also have done a version describing the smells, but I thought this was more fun. Without doubt, the best drink was that very first coca cola - not because of the taste - but because it marked a complete change in my quiet English life.

One of these days I shall have to buy a bottle, see if it still tastes the same as in my memory.

Can you remember your first taste of coca-cola?

Ozzie's Resolve!

There's a saying that's not too nice, but possibly true: "Dogs come when they're called... cats take a message and get back to you later." So when Ma pulled out the blasted flashie box the other night, she got me. On that note, I decided to turn on the charm. After all, it is MY turn!!!

My golden sister gets an awful lot of press - don't let it fool you; she's just had a better agent than me. That will all change in ! I've hired myself bigger, better advert. people this year! Resolved! I will be making more appearances here in for your enjoyment and entertainments!
Watch for me in the near future as I pull out all the stops. You won't be disappointed! Back to my attacks on the Xmas pressies! Happy New Year!

Whittlesey and Flag Fen

What a difference a day makes . . . I think this place is always hot . . .it certainly was last time I walked here.
Led by Barry with me and Gordon. 9.5 miles. Very flat, very hot. Lots of butterflies and dragonflies, plus several herons and a kite.



We set off from Whittlesey - the road in from Thorney seems pretty busy, with cars and not a few cyclists, possibly getting a few miles in before the forecast rise in temperature.

Contemplating Moreton's Leam (Drain)

Junction of the above and the Delph Dyke

This is where we leave the road for a peaceful half mile or so

Along the path which joins the Long Drove there are plenty of butterflies, dragonflies and damselflies.

We rejoin the road at Dog in a Doublet Bridge, and I see that the pub is open again.

I wish them every success

Our route follows the Nene Way next to the road along the north bank of the Nene. Not a lot of shade here, but for most of the way we are walking above the road, out of the way of the not inconsiderable traffic.

We pass the huge Dog in a Doublet Lock, and walk west for around a couple of miles.





When we arrive at the millennium bridge for cyclists and walkers the road leaves us, and the rest of the route is peaceful. First things first though, after that hot section, time for a break.



A quick snack and a chat with three young cyclists from nearby Whittlesey, and we move on. In about half a mile we turn right and head north to today's attraction - Flag Fen. I haven't been here for at least 20 years, and it's much more welcoming and accessible now. At £2 for ancient people like us, good value too.









They also have a small cafe and visitor centre. We meet Harry there, and have a walk around the roundhouses and exhibitions - another place you need to see two or three times, I think.

A landscape of straight lines

We walk back the same way as far as the bridge, but this time we cross it.

The sun is beating down by now - good job we've remembered our hats today.

The view from Ball Bridge

RBS Sustrans Millennium signpost

distant swans

Approaching Whittlesey

from Stonald Road

We follow the quiet road/ cycleway a fair way south of the Nene, past the brickworks and round until it joins the Roman Road which becomes Stonald Road, and continue for another mile to the car. You know what? I think my boots have dried out!



Lots of butterflies, including at least one comma, dragonflies, damselflies.







A footnote: In September we saw a performance by Eastern Angles Theatre of the play Dark Earth at Flag Fen. Very appropriate place, and I'm pleased it was staged inside a tent - the weather was chill.