Tales of the Rosary

I've been wanting to write this all down for a couple of weeks now. 

I have a tale to tell about my dad's family. It's an interesting story I think, but I'll try to keep it as brief as possible so you don't nod off.

As I've said before, I'm adopted, so although I don't have a blood link to my dad's family they're still linked to me by love and experience and for that reason they fascinate me.  I'm  also really passionate about history. I love putting together all the pieces of lives and stories left here and there by previous generations.

My dad led an interesting life, but rarely talked about it as he thought the past was where the past should stay. He was in his 40's when they got me so he was an older dad with a young wife. I think there were a few things that troubled him too and for that I wish he could have talked, but they were a different generation.  It was only after about 40 years of marriage that he said quite nonchalantly how he had come by his money. My mum had never thought to ask, me I'm really inquisitive, so I asked. Turns out his Great-aunt Millie left him all her money and six five bedroomed houses when he was 21. You'd think calling our youngest Millie might have sparked that kind of a conversation before wouldn't you.

It all started when my mum found a locked tin in the bottom of dad's wardrobe. I'd seen inside the tin when I was small and then forgotten about it.

Amazingly she found the right key to open it up and inside where all sorts of treasure. Family jewellry and coins dating back to the 1600's along with beautiful boxes of jewellers long gone from Oxford Street.

It was the Rosary Cemetary certificate that really caught our interest. My man and I love visiting there and now we found my dad's grandfather was buried there. 

It's a famous cemetary being as it's the first non-denominational one in the country, first opened in 1851. Walking around Norwich past high church walls you might wonder why the graveyard is at the top of those walls. Well bodies were buried often four deep and they were running out of room, there were fears for the sanitation of it all, those who had different beliefs wanted a burial ground to suit them and also a cemetary befitting their status in C19th Norwich.

As you wander about you find the Colmans, Jarrolds, Boardman the architect, a survivor of the Charge of the Light Brigade to name but a few.

I also knew that Charles as a middle name was the given in dad's family. Now I knew that tradition came from his Grandfather Charles Clare and also who the owner of the third christening spoon was. I have my dad's, his fathers and his fathers.When I was pregnant with both girls, if they'd been a boy their chosen names were Gabriel Charles Clay S-C. I love a bit of tradition. Also having been born with another name names are very important to me.

When we got home I searched through some of the old photos trying to place Charles.

I think he's the gentleman with the cane in the foreground as I know for a fact that Emma, my dad's Grandmother is in the background and so I guess that the other two women are her sisters. One whose name I don't know, had a son who was an officer in the Great War and never came home. He is strikingly similar to my dad as a young man this uncle he never knew. The other sister, Millie lived with a French lady for many years.

Here is the Grandfather I never met as he died before I was born of an anurism to the brain.

He went to war two years after his father died. For some reason he was in Egypt (again no tales told) so I'll have to do some digging I guess. Unlike his cousin, he came home, married, had two children, played golf and became an Air Raid Warden in the Second World War.

This is my dad's mum. All he ever said of her was she never took that bloody coat off.

She looks lovely to my mind and is the spit of my beloved aunty Betty, dad's sister.

Dad never discussed this, it was my aunt who told my mum who told me what happened after the sudden death of her husband while staying at dad's garage. She sank into depression. She'd never so much as written a cheque before and probably couldn't face the future alone. Dad found her drowned in the Millwater at the bottom of his garden. I understand with this his desire to leave the past where it was.

Before any of this family tragedy, skipping back to 1926, here's my dad as a very chunky ginger baby.

 

Family tales and faces firmly in mind, we set off to explore the Rosary one sunny afternoon in half-term.

It really is an extraordinary place and one you must visit if you're ever this way and into this kind of thing.

It has a quality of being frozen in time. Nature has been allowed to take over as the visitors to the dead have slowly joined them too.

There is absolutely nothing creepy about the place either. It's fascinating and beautiful.

 The hardest part was going to be finding the grave. Although we had the plot number and had checked on the map of the old part of the cemetary, many were completely overgrown or the names had eroded away.

At this point we'd been looking a fair while, when I said to Miss Millie, if he wants to be found we'll find him.


Then I stopped and started clearing away the cow parsley and bindweed that grew over the top of this  cross and here were all the names we were searching for.

We were so thrilled to find him and put this piece of our family story together.

 

After that we searched about showing Miss Millie some of the more fascinating graves and she marvelled at all of the extraordinary names.

As you can tell Miss Rosey chose not to come. This really isn't for her, Miss Millie is spiritual and knowledgeable, she gets what it's all about. An old soul you might say.

At the end of this tale there is another story to tell. 

My mum was out with friends who are mediums and believers. They were reading Angel Cards. She randomly chose Abundance. It said the recent find of coins is a gift from a loved one.

Now some of you may say bunkum and that's fine to me, because that's what you believe. 

Hope you enjoyed the tale.

Binky here we Come

The holidays are coming to a close and I want to draw them out for just a bit longer. I love waking each day thinking what shall we do now - stay at home and pooter about or go out for adventures?

My man being of the self-employed variety takes random days here and there so we try to make the most of time when he's off. Early in the week we headed to a place known to us as Binky Hall (because he misheard me when I first told him it's name). I prefer our name as it captures the war time associations of the hall for me. 

It was gifted to the National Trust by Lord Lothian, the last owner, upon his death in 1940. Interestingly he was in Washington at the time trying to convince the Americans to join forces with the Allies. The RAF were also stationed here during the war (there's a fascinating display detailing this that I loved). Last snippet that interested me was that one of my favourite childhood films The Wicked Lady with Margaret Lockwood was filmed here in 1945. Do you remember the days when black and white films were on tv on a Sunday afternoon? My Mr and I loved them, but sadly they don't show them anymore.

Binky is a Jacobean house with fabulous gardens and grounds to explore. We've only visited the gardens with the Bun's, but as they love history as much as us they were really interested to be going here. Other interesting fact is that it was the site of Anne Boleyn's family home, although that manor house was knocked down to build this house.

When I went through my pics I realised that I'd taken mostly doorway shots so if you've ever about in this part of Norfolk you'll have to come and see for yourself what a fabulous house it is.

As it's been a few years since we last went inside there were loads of interesting changes to see. A beautiful handpainted Arts & Crafts ceiling had been uncovered and the kitchens were now open to the public.

The kitchens are always the most fascinating part of a house to me. To see how a house worked behind the scenes and to be able to balance up both sides of the daily life of the house from the grandeur to everyday realties makes it far more real.

 

After we'd finished our snoop around the interior we headed off outside. The Bun's galloped about burning off energy while we had a bit of hand holding strolling. Along the way we found the secondhand bookshop and collected up some good reads. An Agatha Christie for Miss Rosey, some Enid B's for Little Bun, art books for Mr B and some childrens books for me.

Then we stumbled upon the kitchen garden. These are always our perfect spaces, just the way we would like our garden to be - all a bit ramshackle and softened around the edges.

 

Just behind me was a small grassy area under a tree. I imagined that's where I would put my bench and sit and knit in the afternoon sun while Mr dug holes for things. All in all a great day - full of the ones I love best, history, daydreaming, books and tons of fresh air.

Back to reality today as we need to buy school trainers and the food cupboard is bare so off we go hunting and gathering. 

Thank you for your lovely well wishes on my last post. Truly appreciated as always.

History & Pizza

Yesterday we wanted to grab the last minutes of the summer holidays before the Bun's and I go back to everyday routines again. I hate the feeling of having to grab time again rather than it lazily stretching out before us. The knowledge that if we don't do something today then never mind we'll do it tomorrow has gone for another summer.

We all agreed that a trip to Pizza Express with dollops of history thrown in would be a good choice. We parked on the far side of the city and followed the river in so Mr Bun and I could show them hidden places and how time has changed the city. We started at a Victorian Water Plant and off we went towards Bullard's Brewery which is no longer in business.

We passed this building covered all over with Thomas Paine's The Rights of Man. From a distance it looks like the pigeons have been busy.

In the middle of flats and car parking is the Bullard brewery well dated 1578. When you scratch about it's great to find bits of history in the oddest places.

Now our tummies were rumbling so we headed off to St Benedicts for pizza. Along this road are four maybe five churches all within shouting distance of one another.

I didn't think you would want to see our delicious pizza's and they didn't stay on the plates for long anyway. While we ate we decided we wanted to visit Strangers Hall, a Merchants House which is now a museum set out as a home of differing periods. I find it a very creepy place even though it's interesting to see.

This is the open courtyard that you enter by and then up the steps where the Bun family are waiting.

For the first time we could see the knot garden which was a treat.

I didn't take any pictures of the rooms as most have dark wood panelling with small leaded windows. As I couldn't use a flash the pictures would have been dreadful.

I did take a few of the exhibits which weren't so gloomy. I could have happily put my hand in the cases and taken a few of the toys.

Having married an M.Smith (different name now though as he merged with mine) we loved this teapot.

Out of the kitchens and just before the undercroft was a room storing all sorts of old shop signs.

An Eagle for the bank.


The ram for insurance.


Golden balls for the pawnbrokers.


This one's pretty obvious.

When we got to the last staircase I stood waiting for Mr Bun. The Bun's had raced off ahead so I was on my own and it was freezing, so I moved. Mr Bun has worked with the curator before and she had told him a tale that involved her in that same spot it turned out. It was creepy enough for me to think it might be time to get back in the C21st again.

Now the fun is over and it's the last day before my little gang leave me to work on my own again. We've sorted pencil cases, just need to label everything and bake some buns for lunchboxes and I think we are there.

Pulled the Plug Again

When it's raining heavily and the electricity is being cut off in your village for a whole day it's usually best to go somewhere else. We chose a cosy comfort morning at the cinema. This weeks kids club choice was Escape to Witch Mountain. For the grand total of £5 (adults free) we saw a great film. It was wonderful edge of the seat thrills, and for nearly two hours I got a cuddle with both of my gorgeous girls.

When we came out it had finally stopped raining so we drove into the city to have a look at the Cathedral. Funnily enough on that side of the city there are some charity shops, haberdashers and an antiques centre to look at on the way in.

Norwich is a very old and interesting city. However much I explore it I am always fascinated by what I see.

The Bun's are getting old enough to actually want to look and hear the stories we tell them now, so I showed them three women from Norfolk who fought for causes they believed in.

After buying ribbons we passed Gurney Court where Elizabeth Fry and Harriet Martineau were born. Elizabeth Fry is noted as a prisoner reformer and Harriet Martineau was a writer as well as a campaigner for equality.

Just outside the gate to the Cathedral is a monument to Edith Cavell, a nurse who was executed in WWI, suspected of being a spy by the enemy.

When we got to the Cathedral we headed straight for the cloisters to have a charge around underneath angels, the green man and ecclesiastical folk.

After all this history we badly needed cake and a drink. Out we went jumping between the lines on the paving stones all the way to the cafe.

Then to make a really good day even better - as we walked past Oxfam we saw a lady unloading the most enormous box of ladybird's. We were in like a shot. There must have been tons as she said a man had already spent £50 the day before on them. We spent ages choosing ours and in the end settled for fifteen of them.

Sit and Stay an Hour ...

We had a great day today at Somerleyton Hall, a place we have been coming to since the Bun's were babies.

We walked down paths planted with heavily scented flowers ....

... which were swarming with beautiful dancing white butterflies.

Found a slope and stayed for a spot of roly polies, before racing off again ...

... through the garden tunnel ...

... down paths where the fairies and pixies play to ...

... the maze.

Not that it ever takes us long to get to the middle these days as we know the paths so well.

Now where have they gone?

There they are, hiding in the Tiger Tree.

Hope you all had a wonderful weekend too.