"Down the Cut"

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Some of you may have noticed that I have added a link to “Ramblings of a Boatwoman”. Her blog is actually called “My Life on the cut. - From a female perspective” and I am enjoying reading it very much.

I have been following her journey by referring to my canal maps.

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You see, I have also been reading the ‘Water Road’ by Paul Gogarty. He is a travel writer for the Daily Telegraph and spent four months travelling 900 miles of England’s waterways.

The old maps are very useful to see exactly where people are.

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Paul, not looking where he's going!

(or perhaps 'going astern'?)

I have always been fascinated by our canal system and would just love to go off and explore.

My very first view of a canal would have been at Bournville, where the Worcester & Birmingham canal ran alongside the railway for many miles. When I was young, six or seven, Mother would take us to the Cadbury factory to wave to our Father. Now he worked in an area called ’waterside’, for the very reason it was alongside the canal. Here we could watch the trains, watch the canal boats and at a pre-arranged time, wave to Dad, who would come out onto those steps on the left of the picture below.

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Waterside - Cadburys, Bournville.

Later on, when at Grammar school, my mate and I would take his canoe to the ‘cut’ at Kings Norton and paddle up and down. We had to take it in-turns as it only seated one.

Kings Norton is at the junction of the W & B canal and the Stratford canal (the very same Stratford-on-Avon ie Shakespeare). There is a 2726 yard long canal tunnel here called Wast Hill Tunnel and we, being foolhardy lads, used to paddle off down into the darkness with no lights or life-jackets. They were the days!

I was hooked and set about building my own (as I would) in woodwork classes. I finished all the wooden framing and took it home to cover it with canvas.

This never came to be - I cannot recall why the project came to a halt - probably because of cost.

It wasn’t until 1973 that I got a real chance to see more of the canal system. A group of eight of us, hired two boats for a week, and set off up the Oxford canal. We travelled for three days and then turned round on the Grand Union and spent three days coming back. That’s me on the right of the picture in my Aran sea-going wooly pully. (Which incidentally, my Mother knitted for me and…..yes, you’ve guessed I, still have it today.)

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Oxford Canal - 1973

(with Chris & I think Lorraine, from NZ)

I also, still have the book we used way back in ‘73. I’m sure it is still valid, even though 37 years old, as canals and locks have a habit of staying put!

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Now I don’t have any music to offer on canals but many songs were written.

There is a link here to a site where you can hear quite a number.

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Keeping abreast of the News

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It is generally thought that Marks & Spencer is Britain’s largest retailer of lingerie. However we are informed, by a M&S spokeswoman, (and I assure you that I cannot vouch for this being true), that -

“Only one in three UK women wears our lingerie."

"We sell more than 50 million pairs of knickers

and 20 million bras every year.”

Yet even Marks & Spencer could not deny that lingerie is an art form created and dominated by the French.

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A relic from WW2 (1940's)

When we were at junior school no one had heard of the word ‘Bra’.

I can however, remember in the playground kids coming up and asking -

“If wooden cows have wooden ears, and steel cows have steel ears.”

“What do brass cows have?“

They would then fall about laughing when you said “Brassieres”.

Pathetic when compared to today’s playground humour, but thing were different in 1949.

And, by the way, what is a Brasserie?

Well there is one up the road in Marlow - and in an Orangery!

Up t’north they are called ’Tea-rooms’ for afternoon tea.

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An Orangery Brasserie?

And as it's the so called 'Silly Season'........

A man suffering from amnesia was found wandering in the street by the police.

When questioned he said he didn’t know where he came from. So they took him to the police station, and, to keep him occupied, gave him a copy of the Sun to read. He immediately turned to page three and became very excited.

The sergeant behind the desk turned to his officer and said,

“He’s obviously a Bristol man”.

Try shoving an ice-cube down your wife’s front at night -

‘There’s the chest freezer you wanted.’ (Ken Dodd)

The ladies who live in Helsinki,

Are thin and flat-chested and slinky.

So most of the chaps

Prefer much larger Lapps.

Who am I to condemn them as kinky?

On the breast of a barmaid in Sale,

Is tattoo'd the price of brown ale.

And on her behind,

For the sake of the blind,

Is the same information, in braille!

Dropped in the Soup.

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Oh no! Not tomatoes again?

'Fraid so.

Actually, what happened is - I have just downloaded

some software for re-sizing pictures.

I then found out that it had lots of other features

and so I've been trying a few out.

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You can get these small rounded corners,

coloured margins,

fancy frames

and once you have re-sized them,

put them into little groups (as above).

I just thought I'd test it out on 'tomatoes'.

Yes, they are still coming 'thick & fast'.

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"Hello Tom. You're looking a bit down."

"Yes, I reckon someone's dropped us in the soup!"

Yes, soup it is.

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Easy to make and freezes well to have on those first cold days of autumn.

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Overheard at the Reception.

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Sister Jean: "Where's that strange smell coming from?"

Brother Adrian: " Not me, I dug out a clean shirt for this wedding!"

Brother Ian: "You can never be too sure Ade, try a squirt of this."

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"Hearts of Oak"

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"Mighty Oaks from Little Acorns grow"

Not far from here is a Pub called the Spade Oak. A “Spade Oak” tree was I guess, named after the outline shape being similar to the shape of the ‘Ace’ on playing cards.

However, I was not in the Spade Oak yesterday, but in Selly Oak, a little north of Bournville, where I was born.

To some in this country, Selly Oak may be recognised from the news, as the hospital used as the main treatment centre for military casualties from Afghanistan and Iraq.

It is also sadly the place for many of those who do not ‘pull through’.

It is also the hospital where, holding her hand, I said my last goodbye to my Mother.

But yesterday was a happy occasion, for I was at the wedding of my nephew Graham, to Julia at St. Mary’s church, Selly Oak.

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Selly Oak used to be in the Parish of Northfield, but with the large increase in population of Victorian times it was decided that the new Parish of St Mary, Selly Oak should be established and that they should have their own church.

The construction of St Mary's took just over a year, and the church was consecrated on 12 September 1861.

About 30 years ago, brother Adrian and Jan were also married in this church, and my Mother, always keen to dip into her paint-box, produced several water-colours of the church.

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'St. Mary's in the snow' by Dorothy Johns.

The tower above the North West corner, carries a 45 metre spire, which can be seen from many parts of South Birmingham.

Bournville was, and still is, completely 'dry', as the Cadbury family were all Quakers.

No pubs were allowed in Bournville and in fact no sales of alcohol in shops at all.

In Bournville today, is the only Tesco in the country that does not sell the 'evil liquor'.

The thirsty people of Bournville had several options. Firstly there was the 'Beer at Home' vans ("Beer at home. means Davenports" the adverts said) and then there was the option of a trudge up Oak Tree Lane to Selly Oak to one of the many pubs (alas most now gone).

So in 1959, just being old enough to drink, I with two friends made the journey up to the "Old Oak" for our first ever pints!

I tried everywhere to find a picture of this old pub, but the nearest I got was this picture below.

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That is the side of the pub on the left. I know not great -

but interesting all the same.

Look at the old petrol pumps on the pavement.

I used to fill up my first motorbike there.

There are many theories on how Selly Oak received its name.

Some later sources claim that the name refers to Sarah's oak (later Sally's oak) after a local witch who was either hanged from it or was buried under it with an oak stake through her heart, which later it was claimed grew into an oak tree.

The centre of the district is the junction of Oak Tree Lane and the Bristol Road where the 'original' Selly Oak stood. This was a tree planted by John Rodway in what were then the grounds of his Selly Oak House in 1830 to celebrate the coronation of William IV. However, in 1909 the dying tree had to be felled, its roots damaged by the building of the nearby houses, now converted into shops.

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The tree stump was ceremonially placed in Selly Oak Park where Kings Norton and Northfield District Councils placed a plaque which read.....

'Butt of Old Oak Tree,

from which the name of Selly Oak was derived.

Removed from Oak Tree Lane, Selly Oak 1909'.

The remains of both stump and plaque may still be found.

There were stories about a witch called Sally, but it is thought it may have been a variant and local pronunciation of the name as 'Sally' Oak. Indeed the name is actually recorded as Sally Oak on a canal map produced by John Snape in 1789.

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The 'cut' at Selly Oak.

The construction of the Worcester & Birmingham Canal had a major impact on Selly Oak. Work began at Gas Street Basin in 1792, the cut reaching Selly Oak soon afterwards, but it was to be another twenty-three years before the line was completed to Worcester. The canal took coal and industrial products south and brought grain, farm produce and building materials to Birmingham. Salt was transported from Droitwich from the 1830s and from the early 20th century Cadburys brought the raw ingredients for chocolate-making to their Bournville wharf.

Slow, slow. Quick quick. Slow.

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I have music books of Marches, books of Waltzes and books of Polkas but nowhere could I find a book of Foxtrots. I have lots of individual sheets of course and I chose this one below for no other reason, than I just liked it.

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A Novelty Fox-trot.

The Foxtrot originated in the summer of 1914 by Vaudeville actor Harry Fox. Born Arthur Carringford in Pomona, California, in 1882, he adopted the stage name of "Fox" after his grandfather.

In early 1914, Fox was appearing in various vaudeville shows in the New York area.

This was the time when the New York Theatre decided to try vaudeville acts between the shows, and they selected Harry Fox and his company of "American Beauties" to put on a dancing act.

At the same time the ‘Jardin de Danse’ was built on the Theatre roof and this was where the Fox-trot dance originated. As part of his act downstairs, Harry Fox was doing trotting steps to ragtime music and it wasn’t long before this was referred to as "Fox's Trot".

I can’t ever remember trying to dance a foxtrot to ragtime! Today, the dance is customarily accompanied by the same big band music to which swing is also danced.

From the late teens through the 1940s, the Foxtrot was certainly the most popular fast dance and the vast majority of records issued during these years were foxtrots. The waltz and tango, while popular, never overtook the Foxtrot.

Now what prompted this post, was that last week, I was in the kitchen with Hazel sitting on the windowsill looking out at the garden through the open back door.

All of a sudden she turned her head to the door - I did the same - just in time to see a fox stroll past. I went to get my camera and looked all around, but nothing, until about ten minutes later I saw him trotting off down the road. This was about eight o’clock in the morning.

We have green wheely-bins here for kitchen and garden waste. They are put out every two weeks and of course the foxes have a ’field day’. They have learnt that all they need to do, is knock the bin over onto its side to get at that old chicken carcass.

This morning I noticed four bins on their side with food scraps all over the pavement.

And this time I did manage to get a picture of Mr (or Mrs) Fox trotting home, not with a bit of roast chicken but a poor dead wood-pigeon.

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Late breakfast.

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If we must comply.

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“Business chiefs have issued advice to companies and public bodies on how to escape heavy penalties for failing to display european union flags after British organisations were fined an astonishing £150 million for not giving the eu enough publicity.

Companies receiving European grants MUST display its logo on their buildings, posters and websites.”

So there!

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OK?

Since 1973 Britain has NEVER received a single penny of eu money. As a NET contributor, any grant, is some of our OWN money being given back to us with 'strings attached'.

And if we don't ‘toe the line’, it gets snatched back.

Its not enough to be slaves,

but we must also show that we love our generous overlords.

So......

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When did we agree to this slavery?

Isn't it time we left?

Just tell them to 'push' off!

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Last Saturdays Steam Rally.

Shabbington is a pretty village situated on the rounded hill above the River Thame, which divides the two counties, Buckinghamshire and Oxfordshire. A hundred years ago it was an outlying part of the Waterperry estate, but now consists of about eight separate farms.

In the 1920's, most of the men of the village would have worked on the land and with money being scarce, the women of the village thought nothing of walking the 3 1/2 miles into Thame to find work.

I visit Shabbington every year in August for the Steam rally.

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This year the skies looked very grey but the rain kept off for most of the day.

Now I have some good news and some bad news!

The good news is, that I have found out how to re-size my photos.

They are no longer over 1 Mb each, but just a mere 250Kb.

The bad news is, that I can post up loads more!

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Two real old characters,

haggling over the price of an equally old lawn mower.

Actually I was surprised to notice that us older generation out numbered the children by about 10 to 1. Perhaps real steam doesn't appeal to the younger generation as it did in my younger days.

Plenty of 'Off-the-Road' vehicles!

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Notice how they 'drive on the left'.

Instead of Sheep Dog Trials, I watched a Duck Dog demonstration!

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I actually felt sorry for the ducks.

They gave two demonstrations, one in the morning and another at about 3 o'clock.

They only had short legs and had to run up and around this field

for about twenty minutes at a time.

I bet they would have loved to cool off in here.

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A beautiful model, amazing detail. Even a dog on board.

My friend John putting a dirty coal covered hand on Cecil's lovely white roof!

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Lots of traction engines both small (1/3 full size as here) and full size.......

And of course vintage cars, old tractors and..........

the ubiquitous 'phut-phut' engines, or as Jan calls them, 'chuggers'.

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One field was half full of these stationary engines.

I have never really understood what the attraction is,

but they have quite a large and enthusiastic following.

Here's the most unusual use for one of the many driving water pumps!

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The engine on the right was driving the pump in the centre,

which provided water for a very cold shower.

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Faggots, Pork Scratchings & Real White Pud.

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If, you're free on Tuesday,

Let's go to the Market in Thame,

For I'm after some "What do you call its ?"

And I'm looking for "Oh, what's its name ?"

If we're lucky we might get "Thing-a-me-jigs",

As we saunter between the stalls,

Some faggots, pork scratchings,

Some real White Pud,

And a quarter of Aniseed Balls!

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"Eadles" White Pudding made in Oxford, England.

My mention of White Pudding aroused a bit of interest the other day so I thought I’d tell you what I know about them.

During the 1940-50’s there was not much meat about and many times, sausages were about all you could get.........

A customer complained to her butcher about the sausages she had bought from him the previous week.

“They were all meat at one end, and all bread at the other.”

“I’m sorry, madam,” said the butcher.

“There is War on you know, and it’s very difficult to make both ends meat.”

And, we may laugh now, but it really was difficult for my Mother to “make ends meet”.

There were all sorts of alternatives - things from Pig’s trotters to tripe, and of course - White Puddings. (I may mention a few of the other 'delicacies' another time).

The puddings we had then, would have been made to a West Midlands recipe, probably from over Dudley way. I notice that Wikipedia does not mention the Midlands, but there you go. The best things are kept secret anyway.

First off there is a Scottish version. This is also called Mealie Pudding and is basically made from beef suet, oatmeal and onions or leeks.

Next off there is the Hog’s Pudding from down in the West Country. This is made from minced pork, pork fat, rusk and groats or unpolished barley. It is made in both Cornwall and Devon and the only difference is found in the seasoning. Mace, nutmeg, thyme and cayenne are used in the Devonshire version whilst the Cornish recipe shows mace, nutmeg, thyme and parsley. (Ref; Book of Sausages by Hippisley Coxe).

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From my library.

There is also an Irish Pud, which is virtually the same as the Scottish one but with some ground cloves added.

Our version from the Midlands was made from rusk, pearl barley, pork fat and leeks.

The mixture was moistened with milk and seasoned with thyme and marjoram.

I can’t buy any white puddings in this area, so I have to go to Thame market where I can buy a version made in Oxford. (see above).

Years ago my mother would slice the pudding long-ways and fry it for us, but now I prefer to slice it across and bake it. (less fatty - must think of my heart).

And........for those who like sausages and pies, I have added a couple of new links further down on the right-hand side.

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Marigolds for Tea Tonight!

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I've been out all day at a Steam Rally.

It was not 'wall to wall' sunshine, but as it happens I prefer this cooler weather.

Well, I have just got back in, and have now to sort out a few interesting photos, and something for tonight's tea.

Some steam for those who like steam: some ducks, for those who like ducks and a few unusual pics of "phut-phut" ("Chugger") engines for those ....... well.... are there any?

But back to tonight's tea.

I really must make a start on those tomatoes.

But just look at the size!

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The "Worlds Smallest Tomato"?

(that little fellow at the top is 1/8" across)

So here's what I mustered up.

A White Pudding and tomato bake,

garnished with Rosemary and Marigold petals.

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And, yes. It is weird, but Marigolds are edible and delicious!

(An olde fashioned herbie)

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"Hundreds and Thousands"

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Yesterday, Hazel was sitting by the back door

watching the world go by.

When you are an old lady,

there is plenty of time just to sit and watch.

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I went to see what it was that she was looking at?

A Dragonfly was flitting up and down the yard and years ago she, or one of the two others would have grounded it - but not now - in fact they haven’t chased anything for years.

I stood there with her, looking out, and popped a tomato into my mouth!

For this year - I have tried growing tomatoes in window boxes on both sides of the conservatory. Talk about a success. I am overloaded.

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Still in flower.

They are called 100’s and 1000’s

and the first figure is certainly true.

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Down to the ground.

They are really the size of cherries or even smaller - more like grapes!

The plants are sagging under the weight and I have had to tie them back to the conservatory window frames.

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It seems that with these small tomatoes the flavour is more concentrated. They may be small, but they are juicy, tasty and sweet.

My large tomatoes in the greenhouse are also doing well. It is just as well they are not in the garden, as with no rain for weeks on end, they would have produced very little.

Here the larger ones are being cooked on top of a fish and broccoli bake,

finished off with those delicious

Nasturtium seeds that I pickled last year.

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You can’t beat ‘home grown’, ’home cooked’ food.

Unless, you’re a cat - when it comes out of tins!

Must go.

Hazel and Wesley are hungry.

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All the Deans!

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As you know I like to include a front sheet of some music with my posts -

and this was the best I could think of today.

Yesterday I was playing, not Nellie Dean but,

at a delightful little village up in Chilterns called North Dean.

(Do I hear groans all round?)

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I took a few pictures at the start before the crowds arrived.

That's my pitch on the right.

I tried to find out something about North Dean, but all my books cover Speen, but nothing about the two Dean's - North & South. The whole area is beautiful farming countryside and years ago would have been home to lace makers, farmers and chair makers working in the Hampden woods.

This Saturday was, however, the day of the Village Fete

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My friend Dennis (another Deane - but with an ' e') was asked to play there, as he had on previous years, but this time he was booked to play elsewhere. I was asked if I would take his place.

How could I miss out on such a charming location and only a few miles from home.

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Some familiar stopping places.

Dennis, unfortunately didn't make it to either of the locations this year!

Last week, whilst cutting back his apple tree,

he fell off the ladder and damaged his knee.

So, Dennis, if you are reading this, here's to speedy recovery.

Look what you missed out on!

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And just look at the size of those sausages!

They looked like real Farmer's sausages to me.

I was tempted - but being on a low fat diet, I resisted.

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A real Coconuts Shy

And I just had to take a closer look at that those fantastic houses behind where I was playing.

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Idyllic.

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