Rabbiting On

My mother wrote the following in a letter in 1936 when travelling down the Yangtze.   It describes a walk from Ichang to Sun-lu-Tung, which must have been recommended to them.

I would like to know what this place is. Is there anything to see at Sun-lu-Tung apart from a cool grotto?

Please contact me if you know.

Rab

Once out of the city we walked for miles (well 5 at least) through the fields. They looked very fertile, beans, corn and egg plant, and even apple trees. It was terrifically hot but after just sitting for 8 days it was good to move ones legs. I wished I’d worn my brogues, because the hot ground burnt through the soles of my tennis shoes. We stopped once at a Chinese homestead where there was a nice shady tree, and the family brought us out Chinese tea which we drank with gusto, while we sat and discussed them, and they us, neither party understanding a word.

Our ultimate goal, the Sun-lu-Tung, was up on a hill, and one climbed hundreds of steps in the blazing sun. But when we reached it it was a lovely cool grotto in the hillside, and more hot tea was brought us, so when we were quite rested we went down the hill to the river, and followed it down to the main stream where we got a sampan to take us back to Ichang.

Does anyone have a photograph or illustration of Mountjoy School prior to 1947?  I believe it was at 6-7 Mountjoy Square, Dublin.  My Father went to this school, and I would love to have some information on it.

Rab

I have been to Dublin and seen the building in Mountjoy Square.

If anyone has any stories abaout the school around 1910, I would love to hear from you.

Rab

My mother taught at St. George’s School for Girls at Victoria B.C. for one year 1926-7.  From 1910 the school building was The Laurels on Rockwell Avenue in the prestigious Rockland district of Victoria.  The Headmistress (Hannah Suttie?) retired in 1928, I believe, and the school closed down.

If anyone has any information or photos of the school, or 1249 Rockland Avenue, please get in touch.

Rab

For some time I have had a thing about storing enough food to keep me alive for a month.  I try to keep plenty of rice, pasta, tinned fish and tomatoes, pesto, baked beans, flour, yeast, oats, nuts, dried fruit, longlife milk, peanut butter, chocolate, biscuits, oils etc on my larder shelf. With these I can make bread, muesli and pasta and rice dishes.  I also have plenty of vitamin pills.  This is in case of any event which might prevent supermarkets from receiving supplies – in which case their shelves would be bare within 3 days.  This event might be a lack of petrol, a pandemic, a climatic disaster, a war – anything.  It’s also handy if I become ill – I don’t have to ask my neighbours to shop for me.

I think everyone should keep a stock of food.  It is madness to assume that one will always be able to drive to the supermarket and bring home exactly what one wants.  In Britain we are very dependent on imported food.  Could we survive without it for long?  If there is no petrol, can you walk to and from the shops weighed down with food?   Not many of us grow our own vegetables and keep chickens.  Not many of us eat “food for free”, searching the countryside for mushrooms, berries and edible greens.  Most of us would starve if we could not buy food at the shops.

My Grandparents were more or less self-sufficient in fruit and vegetables in the days before freezers.  They had an orchard and a big vegetable patch.  They made jam, bottled fruit, salted beans in stone jars, stored potatoes, carrots, apples and hazlenuts.

If there were to be a serious pandemic, and most people were ill or dying, would there be anyone running the petrol stations, the water treatment plants and the electicity supply?  What if the electricity failed?  I would be in trouble as there is no fireplace in my house, no gas fire or gas cooker.  I have a few gas canisters for my camping gas so that I can make hot drinks in cold weather. Stockpiled food that does not need cooking would be useful.

What if the water supply also dried up?  I could collect a small amount of rainwater.  There is a small pond in my garden and I have a collection of wood.  I could make a fire outdoors (as in the Girl Guides) and boil the water to sterilise it in the old saucepans I keep for such a purpose.  I could strain the water through butter muslin or similar fabric.   I have bought some tablets to sterilise water (from Boots).  I keep 2 big boxes of matches – I don’t think I could make fire without matches, and it’s a very time consuming task.  I also keep some large plastic bottles which could be used to collect water from the nearest stream.  If I ever have to do that, I will regret that I have no shopping trolley and no pram.

If I had children I would take all this much more seriously.  Parents have a responsibility towards their children – to keep them alive.  Stocking up with food in the long run costs nothing.  You rotate the stocks and eat it all before it goes off.  Imagine how you would feel if your children were starving because you couldn’t be bothered to think ahead and take action to try to prevent such an event.

For survival, we are all totally interdependent at present.  We each of us need to take steps that enable us to be independent if necessary.

Rab

Mixing the Malt

by Gustav Dore 1872

I have an ancestor who was a “maltster” in 1861, and a “maltsman” in 1871.  When I saw this print I thought of him.

What exactly are these 10 guys doing?  They appear to be in a liquid, shovelling something out.

Can anyone enlighten me?

Would the ancestor have been  doing this, or does Maltsman imply a managerial status?

Rab

My father worked for the Trent River Board in Nottingham in the 1950s and 1960s.   When he died this poem was found in his possessions.

Is there an ex Trent River Board employee who remembers this poem?

There are questions I wish to ask – who was F.F.?

Can you explain the in-jokes in the last two lines?

Please contact me if you know anything at all.

Rab

DANGER WE’RE AHEAD

All ye, who live in Vale of Trent,

In mansion, caravan or tent,

Who own a mine or whiskey-still

Or work in foundry, works or mill,

List to my words, for all bear weight,

And must be headed e’re too late -

Don’t throw into the river wide

Arsenic or cyanide,

Or dying dogs or elephants

Or mouldy hay or torpid plants.

For some will poison fish and men

And rotting things use oxygen.

Then none can drink or swim with ease

For fear of catching some disease.

And anglers grow choleric

When all the fish are looking sick

And off they rush with one accord

To ring up the Trent River Board.

And in our fine laboratories

With filter flasks and B.O.D.’s

And colour tests and distillations

And indicators and calculations,

We set our charts and in them read

The magnitude of your misdeed,

And blaze it forth in this report

And point it out to you in court.

You can’t evade a Major’s Minor,

Not for all the ice in China.

F.F.

I have just been to the funeral of a dear friend, Winifred Hughes.  She was 98.  There was a memorial service in her church, and her granddaughter Sophie read a poem she had written.  The last part was:

We celebrate a life today……

feeling enriched for having known her

and so grateful

for our time with her,

for the way she affected us…

inspired us…

and affirmed for us

that this is how a beautiful life

should be lived.

I was so pleased that Sophie said that.

I used to visit Winifred when she was in her eighties and lived near me.  She lived alone.  Each visit was a delight for me.  There would be an Ikebana flower arrangement on the coffe table, delicious snacks, and she would show me the embroidery she had done since my last visit.  I used to say “I hope I can be like Winifred if I live to be 80 – busy and happy doing things I love.”

I met Winifred at a machine embroidery class.  We all struggled to complete the homework each week, but Winifred did much more than was requested.  She was a talented artist and designed  wonderful modern embroideries.  She also attended other classes – paper making I think was one.

Winifred had a very adventurous life, living in China, Japan, India and Australia – usually when those countries were in turmoil.  She wrote her life story, which I read.  How we all loved her stories.  Life had not always been easy, but Winifred was strong, a survivor.

And what made her so special was the serenity she exuded, and the unconditional love and understanding she gave to others.

I don’t think we meet many people in a lifetime about whom we can say,

“This person is a role model to me.  She inspires me.   My life has been enriched by her friendship, encouragement and love.”

Dear Winifred, I can say that about you.  You were an angel in my life – if all too briefly, and will never be forgotten.

I have often listened to Roger Whittaker singing this song – He Ain’t Heavy, He’s My Brother. I used to drive down the motorway singing along.  Today I played it on my computer, and was moved to tears yet again.  So I looked it up in Wikipedia, hoping to learn how the lyrics came about.

I hope this touching story is how it all began.

In 1924, the first editor of Kiwanis Magazine, Roe Fulkerson, published a column carrying the title “He Ain’t Heavy, He’s My Brother”. Dated September 1924, the article speaks of Fulkerson’s inspiring encounter with “a spindly and physically weak lad” carrying a baby and “staggering towards a neighboring park”.

” ‘Pretty big load for such a small kid’ I said as I met him. ‘Why, mister,’ he smiled, ‘He ain’t heavy; he’s my brother.’ “

Then in the 1960s two chaps in California, Bobby Scott and Bob Russell, collaborated and wrote the song – you can hear the Hollies singing it on Utube.

The road is long
With many a winding turn
That leads us to who knows where
Who knows when
But I’m strong
Strong enough to carry him
He ain’t heavy, he’s my brother.

So on we go
His welfare is of my concern
No burden is he to bear
We’ll get there
For I know
He would not encumber me

If I’m laden at all
I’m laden with sadness
That everyone’s heart
Isn’t filled with the gladness
Of love for one another.

It’s a long, long road
From which there is no return
While we’re on the way to there
Why not share
And the load
Doesn’t weigh me down at all
He ain’t heavy, he’s my brother.

He’s my brother
He ain’t heavy, he’s my brother.

I think it’s a really great song.

It makes you stop and think………Who is my brother?

Whose welfare should I be concerned about?

It is indeed a long, long road, but sharing the load can make the journey seem less arduous, and it makes the journey more interesting and fun and rewarding.  Who knows when we will each of us be glad that someone strong is carrying us.

Rab

I once met a man I liked very much; I hoped he would become a friend.  Gradually it became clear that he was a “materialist”, ie he did not believe in the immortal soul.  He thought we each have one life and that’s that.  When you die it’s the end of you.  When I said that I believed I have a soul and that it is very wise, having had many, many life experiences in different bodies, and it guided me when I choose to listen – well, he thought I was bonkers.

Some would say that I sabotaged this potential relationship by revealing that my belief system was quite different from his.

But I am not prepared to compromise my beliefs, or to hide them, in order to impress a man.  That would be desperation – a deception.  I would not be true to my Self. (I would be betraying my Soul, my Higher Self.)

It would also be very foolish.  Good relationships are not built on deceptions.

And why should I pretend outwardly that he is wiser than me – the fountain of all truths?

And do I want a man who can’t live with someone who doesn’t agree with him?  (It has been observed that we tend to choose partners who will challenge our beliefs, and this is how we change and grow.  Sounds a lot healthier to me.  Don’t you find that people who agree with everything you say are utterly boring?)

If we all spoke our Truths we could learn so much from each other, and be less likely to get stuck in fixed belief systems.

Pretending to be what you are not is the reason why many relationships come to an end.  “You are not the woman I married” may well be true.  The implication is that one has changed – for the worse.  But the reality is – “Now I know who you really are, I don’t like you anymore.”  Or, “Now you are saying that you don’t like what I say and do, I feel uncomfortable, unloved, angry!”

Showing displeasure or anger or rage when someone doesn’t agree with you is being a control freak.  It’s not unconditional love.

Even if one does feel that one’s beliefs are superior to anothers, we must accept that that is where that person is right now.  You can’t tell someone what to believe. But you can confess that you believe xxxx, and hope that some of that will appeal to them.

Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.

As I would like you to respect my right to believe what I believe without being ridiculed, so I must respect your beliefs, without the need to try and convert you.

As I would like you to love me, even though you don’t always agree with me, so must I love you unconditionally.

Rab

I saw a Peanuts cartoon in which Lucy is reading a book.  “A man was born, he lived and he died.  The End!”, she says, and tosses the book aside.  Linus picks it up reverently.  “What a fascinating account”, he says.  “It almost makes you wish you had known the fellow.”

I laughed, then asked myself – what makes an interesting life?

My parents’ lives were very interesting to research, but my life would be very boring for my sons to research.      I was born, I live and I will die.

But is the point of your existence that it should provide material for an exciting biography?

I think not.

The point of your existence is

- to become wiser i.e. raise your consciousness

- to do good deeds – take on more responsibility

- to overcome the fears that hold you back

- to improve your performance, move yourself up a notch (“step-up” is the trendy word)

It would be hard not to raise your consciousness over three score years and ten as all the people of Planet Earth are collectively doing that.  For example – once upon a time it was considered by many that it was the natural order of things that some people would be slaves all their lives.  Rich people went on safari and killed as many wild animals as they could and boasted about it.   Great men with a higher understanding persuaded mankind that these kinds of behaviour were not acceptable, and today most people would agree.

In some ways humankind’s behaviour appears to be getting worse, but maybe that’s the perception of people who are more questioning and have higher ethical standards than previous generations.  Things seem to get worse before they get better.

There are inumerable ways in which we can raise our consciousness and “step up”.  But if you never change your beliefs throughout your lifetime, then you are stuck on one rung of the spiritual ladder.  Acquiring wisdom means being open to new ideas; it means assessing the beliefs and values which were instilled into you as a child.  It means searching for the truth, even though it might turn out to be something you really don’t want, or it scares you.

We all tend to get locked into belief systems.  If we are challenged, we justify our beliefs and ignore anything that might prove them wrong or suspect. We just can’t bear to lose an argument.  The religious person might refuse to read a a book disclaiming God; he convinces himself that the book is the devil tempting him.   The atheist might refuse to read a book about reincarnation; he is quite sure there is no such thing as an eternal spirit, and although he can’t prove that there is not, he wont read anything that might give evidence that there is.

Many older scientists rubbish the young person’s breakthrough theory.  It would be too painful and humiliating to admit that you were wrong for 30 years, and your job might be at risk.  If we have invested for many years in a belief system, we are not about to change now.

“Do something that scares you every day” - advice I heard recently.

So go on – read that book that might make you throw some dearly loved belief into the trash can.

Ask yourself – “What if I’m wrong?”

I say -  who wants to waste  a whole lifetime believing lies or untruths?

I say -  stand tall and when you are wrong, admit it – to yourself and to others.

IT’S GOOD TO CHANGE YOUR MIND.

It means you have learnt something, become wiser and faced your fears.

Then you can step up onto the next rung of the ladder.

Rab