tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16362432840786408452024-03-18T00:44:36.964-07:00Kirk DaleAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08642768891794895642noreply@blogger.comBlogger72125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1636243284078640845.post-71678913522839364762017-05-21T04:19:00.003-07:002017-05-21T04:19:55.392-07:00Autumn<br />
You know how things are sometimes: You make plans and then they are all tossed up in the air!!<br />
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It seems that no sooner did I reopen my blog than I was engulfed in busy-ness!!<br />
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Since my last post there have been birthdays.<br />
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Mr. A and I have both had the 'flu.<br />
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We have been busy helping Mme O by assembling chandeliers in her new home.<br />
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We have been to and fro from our country place...<br />
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And then there has been work to do and the usual things that happen in one's day to day life...<br />
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It seems as though I have no time to even sit down and take my ease...<br />
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Next weekend all will be back to normal but in the interim I thought that I would share with you some autumn photographs from this weekend.<br />
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These are the chestnut trees on our land. We have cut off the lower branches so that the trees have more shape.<br />
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We are now able to light fires to burn the old branches etc. We bought a couple of tressles and took an old door to make a table.<br />
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Down in the wooded part the leaves have made a lovely carpet. In the midst is the old well that we will soon be having made into a proper well head.</div>
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For our birthday Mme. O bought us a small gas canister controlled camp stove. Luxury!!<br />
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I hope that you like these few photos.<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08642768891794895642noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1636243284078640845.post-72767031258961374412017-04-23T04:44:00.000-07:002017-04-23T04:44:34.744-07:00Bucolic pleasantries<div class="MsoNormal">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXaHGdg88m2OmpEhElUefkXF9ztxRqxKPvZBsY56pEPxeCObbKtFSOfNjpaI1gCOwoja__Hbx65TL9LZDeIxYwlk-sVM5NdInj11nKhl2-PIwFazP420O02SqAIphgA-F5GfepnbWEZ3vH/s1600/IMG_7810.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXaHGdg88m2OmpEhElUefkXF9ztxRqxKPvZBsY56pEPxeCObbKtFSOfNjpaI1gCOwoja__Hbx65TL9LZDeIxYwlk-sVM5NdInj11nKhl2-PIwFazP420O02SqAIphgA-F5GfepnbWEZ3vH/s400/IMG_7810.jpg" width="298" /></a></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">I mentioned in my last post that we
recently bought an acre of land in the country, so I feel that I should
introduce it to you!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"> * * * * * *</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">Towards the end of last year we were
thinking of moving to the island of Tasmania.</span></div>
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Tasmania</div>
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<span style="text-align: justify;">We spent a couple of wonderful holidays in Tasmania. We motored around the island, checking out the lay of the land, considering our options, and deciding upon possibilities. It is a lovely part of the world and Mr. A. has close links to it as some of his ancestors went there as free settlers in the 1810s, but when we considered all the angles we realised that, alas, it would not be feasible to move to Tasmania at our time of life. There is not a lot of work to be had, especially in our chosen fields, and it would be difficult for our family and friends to come visiting. Reluctantly, we shelved the idea.</span></div>
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<span style="text-align: center;">We then decided to look in our own
back garden: the fabulous state of Victoria.</span><span style="text-align: center;"> What a wonderful part of the world it is. We checked the real estate web sites and discussed the possibilities of the various regions, eventually deciding that we wanted somewhere that had a high elevation, high rainfall, the sorts of things that we like (good food, nice countryside, civilised activities etc). </span><span style="text-align: center;">After
visiting a couple of properties we decided that rather than buy an old house and
renovate it, we would buy land and build our own.</span><span style="text-align: center;"> </span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">It was then that we came across the
perfect piece of land upon which to establish our ‘estate’. Mr. A. put in an offer to the owner on the very same day, and that is why we
are now the proud owners of a block of land in the Daylesford-Macedon region.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-GB">Here it is:<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9Yi6iZC30vPPcMpjBmN97xEONB1m7o-urlOYnhmvhIHk1GqLOZ3cyNkLdpqZEOBw0nmSD-PtvQqvsQBKp5u6K-mwHmqpgIZlK8ZcQ3GhGj0Jf2hDRrWUGb_lXoJieZAJ5GeN_1W1xPHP9/s1600/IMG_7784.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="478" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9Yi6iZC30vPPcMpjBmN97xEONB1m7o-urlOYnhmvhIHk1GqLOZ3cyNkLdpqZEOBw0nmSD-PtvQqvsQBKp5u6K-mwHmqpgIZlK8ZcQ3GhGj0Jf2hDRrWUGb_lXoJieZAJ5GeN_1W1xPHP9/s640/IMG_7784.jpg" width="640" /></a><span lang="EN-GB"></span><br />
<br />
The above photo shows the line of Spanish Chestnut trees. The tree closest to the camera is a walnut tree.<br />
On the other side of the Chestnut trees there is a long meadow:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4oCuILvrYoxemWV3ukgJq5irLZnAN5tjOEpXlXMPik41Klk8YjhewQNyURlnfiao4KS3_Lg2x-c44kKt6Juy3kjmhBDYPBp3gpkhrsxB7t9oCN3uN-y3GPWAJbDkvMHjfuSmE5IuRnMYE/s1600/IMG_7767.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="478" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4oCuILvrYoxemWV3ukgJq5irLZnAN5tjOEpXlXMPik41Klk8YjhewQNyURlnfiao4KS3_Lg2x-c44kKt6Juy3kjmhBDYPBp3gpkhrsxB7t9oCN3uN-y3GPWAJbDkvMHjfuSmE5IuRnMYE/s640/IMG_7767.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
And at the end of the meadow one walks into a small forest of Chestnut trees.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZUoqRHqRck3OKqIV1S9ZV-eSNRZXA6LzboyYlN7s6tFa1NQLpGvQG9QxyuzKw-y227cRl31T4PNZHozEcqsSZAj0K1gkhzz9DYhsWSI0S3XofSLeGvAji_lEpR7PiluEyJOM2w_I_mvUU/s1600/IMG_7955.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="478" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZUoqRHqRck3OKqIV1S9ZV-eSNRZXA6LzboyYlN7s6tFa1NQLpGvQG9QxyuzKw-y227cRl31T4PNZHozEcqsSZAj0K1gkhzz9DYhsWSI0S3XofSLeGvAji_lEpR7PiluEyJOM2w_I_mvUU/s640/IMG_7955.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<span lang="EN-GB">The trees are somewhat spindly, but we like them. They will need some care and attention. We have big plans for this little copse.</span><br />
<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span>
<span lang="EN-GB">Within the copse is a well:</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTb62Gb9JRXL_J5E97Law_sx2hyIboM3LLpHHZswffLFzHVLaF5qlO8SWm-gCaEUqIRPWqUVgbG_DHsZ0iziJa4LQ4hgtXTm2r1RNy_evBqRV8ZD_sElE_KLLPmlx-OU0kQLHyON_scMhx/s1600/IMG_7963.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="478" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTb62Gb9JRXL_J5E97Law_sx2hyIboM3LLpHHZswffLFzHVLaF5qlO8SWm-gCaEUqIRPWqUVgbG_DHsZ0iziJa4LQ4hgtXTm2r1RNy_evBqRV8ZD_sElE_KLLPmlx-OU0kQLHyON_scMhx/s640/IMG_7963.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<span lang="EN-GB">As you can see it is somewhat primitive, being nothing more than a hole in the ground with a pump attached, but we have had plans drawn up to have it beautified with a proper well head. Mr. McGregor (the builder) is in charge of that and we shall see what we shall see...</span><br />
<span lang="EN-GB">I rigged up a bucket and rope system for drawing up the water, which after testing is deliciously drinkable!</span> This is good because there is no running water to the property (and no gas either) At least there is an electricity supply!!<br />
<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span>
<span lang="EN-GB">The land itself is part of an old dairy farm which was subdivided some time ago. Apart form the well, our block contains an old, ramshackle cow shed which is used to store fire wood, and a rather characterful hut that has 'possibilities':</span><br />
<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq20J-6T5xuqstw1Vu99x2AO2FyES9G7j3zmeI3vbS6EEK0gF2GhnSd5MvdwetmqHQIdsbOZKM-3iSntnE0Mjvv96jwCQ1qw6UoxxsAmvfaDj9HS4z2ovAjBPt8VbOZ7T4Zi1GMNG1Nhdn/s1600/IMG_7802.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="476" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq20J-6T5xuqstw1Vu99x2AO2FyES9G7j3zmeI3vbS6EEK0gF2GhnSd5MvdwetmqHQIdsbOZKM-3iSntnE0Mjvv96jwCQ1qw6UoxxsAmvfaDj9HS4z2ovAjBPt8VbOZ7T4Zi1GMNG1Nhdn/s640/IMG_7802.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<span lang="EN-GB">Mr McGregor's wife informed me that the hut was used in the 1940s as a potato pickers hut. I like that. The cowshed (which is on the right in this photo) will have to go, but the hut is going to become our very own dacha of sorts.</span><br />
<span lang="EN-GB">Those are hazelnut bushes surrounding the buildings and the old water tank,. So what with chestnuts, and walnut trees, we should be quite okay for nuts!!! </span><br />
<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span>
<span lang="EN-GB">I hope that you enjoyed this rather rushed trip around our new purchase. Last week was Easter and social commitments here and there made it difficult to find the time to visit my blog, but here is a simnel cake that I made to celebrate that special time. </span><br />
<span lang="EN-GB">Do help yourself and while you are at it you can look at this website which show what the Daylesford Macedon region has to offer!</span><br />
<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span>
<span lang="EN-GB"><a href="http://www.visitmelbourne.com/Regions/Daylesford-and-the-Macedon-Ranges">http://www.visitmelbourne.com/Regions/Daylesford-and-the-Macedon-Ranges</a></span><br />
<br />
<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW7TrPUkFqH_XaBkaDiZ9suvrK0Mzv3izS7Zv7XJ4CkkTYJ38lHFEKYlg_TcR2Ldi_F2LNbLH8Cv3GISY8eqQf4KJtJZV0T6VqBoZLP3yRCxHbdUvU5km0iLlckxUnuBU6TT105Q3VjbaE/s1600/IMG_8193.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="478" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW7TrPUkFqH_XaBkaDiZ9suvrK0Mzv3izS7Zv7XJ4CkkTYJ38lHFEKYlg_TcR2Ldi_F2LNbLH8Cv3GISY8eqQf4KJtJZV0T6VqBoZLP3yRCxHbdUvU5km0iLlckxUnuBU6TT105Q3VjbaE/s640/IMG_8193.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08642768891794895642noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1636243284078640845.post-86632001377112139082017-04-09T04:30:00.000-07:002017-04-09T04:30:39.677-07:00Awakening from our slumbers<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">We’re back.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">Finally.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">Although I made a couple of earlier attempts, the past two years have proven to be far too
difficult (and there has been far too much going on) to properly think about, and concentrate on this, my bijou
blog, and I’ve missed it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">But now, with Autumn slowly gathering
momentum in this part of the world (and life becoming much more sedate), I feel
the time is right to unlock the doors, through open the windows, take the dust covers off the furniture and chandeliers, lay out the cups, saucers, cakes and tea things,;and make sure that all is in readiness to receive visitors once more. </span> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb9eUYdNNpDUhV_eLBee7c0483VRE6aCq5-qRsC86xT-9YLCPQ0wdFMB6X_4Te9CIRYsP7R6DfLJ7LTF0XBACPZEXG7aE1uSJRhjhGPoszMnNTkVJuyGwZ4PpErcj-NhQ9nOykwUVjDUno/s1600/BLog+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="290" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb9eUYdNNpDUhV_eLBee7c0483VRE6aCq5-qRsC86xT-9YLCPQ0wdFMB6X_4Te9CIRYsP7R6DfLJ7LTF0XBACPZEXG7aE1uSJRhjhGPoszMnNTkVJuyGwZ4PpErcj-NhQ9nOykwUVjDUno/s400/BLog+2.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
Sit back (please help yourself to a cake) whilst I acquaint you with what's been going on. To be honest with you, s<span style="font-size: 12pt;">uch a lot has happened in the interim that
it’s hard to know where to start - but I’ll do my best.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-GB">* *
* * * *<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">I think that you would agree that moving
from one house to another is a big undertaking.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">Moving from one town to another
is tiring.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">Moving from one country to another is
stressful and time consuming.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">Moving from one side of the globe to the
other is enough to give one a permanent attack of the vapours!!!!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-GB">* * * * * * </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">On the 31<sup>st</sup> of December 2014,
Mr. A and I went to the airport to catch our flight for Australia.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We arrived in Melbourne on the 1<sup>st</sup>
of January 2015. Our minds were</span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> filled with all sorts of
plans, but there were foundations to be laid before we could even think about putting anything in to action.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">Apart from our suitcases, all of our possessions were packed
in boxes, somewhere in England, awaiting shipment.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">We had no jobs to go to and o</span>ur old life was left far behind<br />
<br />
Ahead of us lay a certain degree of uncertainty.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">What we did have however was determination, a</span>nd so we moved in to the house we own with my
mother, Madame O, and started to readjust to life on the opposite side of the world.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">It took a while but we found work.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">We bought George – our car.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium; text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">We welcomed Miss Angelica in to our lives.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjarqAE52wR49yKvLKcwPN0Ta8lECLvIbAE_ZGeSSRa6rQvsTxNO5H6aR6kYWSh0ZJkzGHe2yKpRFpr1Jq4oSB_7Dn5kuHE5rYrge80emK_tUYn2B_qhrq5dLtFWG2m6lWXcB35_AgYU1kV/s1600/IMG_6005.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjarqAE52wR49yKvLKcwPN0Ta8lECLvIbAE_ZGeSSRa6rQvsTxNO5H6aR6kYWSh0ZJkzGHe2yKpRFpr1Jq4oSB_7Dn5kuHE5rYrge80emK_tUYn2B_qhrq5dLtFWG2m6lWXcB35_AgYU1kV/s640/IMG_6005.jpg" width="478" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium; text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-GB">(Miss Angelica in true aristo pose.)</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">It was hard to leave our old jet-setting life behind - we had enjoyed it a lot - but we knew that we needed to think of the future and if we didn't set our plans in motion now, then we never would. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">We slowly settled in and settled down.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
* * * * * *</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">Moving forward to March 2017 and we are
happily ensconced at ‘the Grove’.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span lang="EN-GB"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">(Part of the garden at the Grove - at the beginning of last summer)</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">Our possessions are all here (albeit in storage) and Madame O having
recently purchased a new house for herself (which she is as present renovating), we will soon have the Grove entirely to ourselves.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
We have also bought ourselves an acre of
land about an hour's drive from Melbourne. Here we intend to build a house, settle
down, and potter about doing the sorts of things we enjoy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">We are in no hurry as we intend to take our
time so everything <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">I do hope that you will come and visit to
see how we are progressing!!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Now it is time to sally forth and visit other blogs that I used to enjoy reading so much. We have been gone for such a long time that I doubt anyone will even remember us!</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08642768891794895642noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1636243284078640845.post-43475208204866093722015-02-23T01:55:00.001-08:002015-02-23T01:55:14.719-08:00Waiting for the word.<div class="MsoNormal">
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<span lang="EN-GB">Our container should have arrived this week
in Melbourne.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We were told the ship
would dock last Thursday but we haven’t heard anything yet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">We are hopeful.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">Mind you, it will be at least another two
weeks before we get our hands on our stuff because quarantine officers will be giving them the once over.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Australia is very
strict when it comes to importing anything into the country by private
individuals and so all of our beautiful things will sit around somewhere
waiting to be checked; and i</span>t isn’t cheap either. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>$750 up front just for the normal
processing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I hope they don’t kick up a
fuss about our thirty-five clocks, or the mirror collection, paintings, books, teapots . . .</div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">Of course, there is nothing that can be
done to expedite matters and so one is forced to sit tight and wait to be
contacted.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">And so while we are waiting, why not grab
your sun hat and come with me for a walk around our garden.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">I purchased this house in partnership with my mother (Mme. O) a little while after my father died. We did not want a big garden as we both had busy lives but we did want somewhere to grow roses and a place to create a terrace for outdoor dining and general lounging about.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">That was then but all these years later I find that thanks to AGA I have grown to love gardening and this is one of the reasons that AGA and I will be buying land upon which to build a new house and a new much bigger garden.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB">But anyway . . .</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">The roses are looking lovely:</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd01MR0xvvYR4SrXY0s6n6nArddLBlx09bXUw1SvweGd63VNEYGqYSuxyFtw1Zr0oSs-tRVU0C_5qQUl4dFIOXreGDwmaWCcTYX7zP0ZS_xlzi_sKTjO7OMC2Cf9YtDNjeMsJ7qnx7jesz/s1600/IMG_4568.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd01MR0xvvYR4SrXY0s6n6nArddLBlx09bXUw1SvweGd63VNEYGqYSuxyFtw1Zr0oSs-tRVU0C_5qQUl4dFIOXreGDwmaWCcTYX7zP0ZS_xlzi_sKTjO7OMC2Cf9YtDNjeMsJ7qnx7jesz/s1600/IMG_4568.jpg" height="640" width="478" /></a></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
When we moved to this house I planted the roses along the driveway and up to the front door. The recent rather hot summer days have burnt some of the petals but all in all it has been rather a good year:</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDT0YDqLUHRMzH0zeeEuILkYTvz-ip2zzahMqpLulUbIbHrUCUuIep_5zJOLWJ2FWBr_HI54Rm5RulU-pp4TfCzWqFTblBvZCN6F3JaN0KW4j6nETRbjw-ngkTX71i5_ItjoQBExlmk4kC/s1600/IMG_4717.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDT0YDqLUHRMzH0zeeEuILkYTvz-ip2zzahMqpLulUbIbHrUCUuIep_5zJOLWJ2FWBr_HI54Rm5RulU-pp4TfCzWqFTblBvZCN6F3JaN0KW4j6nETRbjw-ngkTX71i5_ItjoQBExlmk4kC/s1600/IMG_4717.jpg" height="640" width="478" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
This rose, which we believe is 'Queen Elizabeth' was presented to my parents by a neighbour when we first arrived in Australia. Do you think that this is the correct name? On moving house I made sure that part of it went with us:</div>
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I do like French marigolds. We have a lot of them at present. They always put on a good show.<br />
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Now this is a pineapple lily. I have to say that I don't like it. AGA on the other hands, loves it. I have promised faithfully not to kill it as I did (accidentally) his Mother-in-law tongue plant while we were in Germany . . .</div>
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Foxgloves are always so lovely. This was a self seeded one that popped up one day. My grandmother used to say that it was wrong to bring foxglove into the house because it would make the fairies angry and the milk would always curdle. In the corner of this photo you will be able to spot some 'Johnny Jump up' violas.</div>
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A cherub who in the dim and distant past suffered a French revolutionary accident, having his head accidentally knocked off. Luckily it was able to be reattached.</div>
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The Meyer lemon is enjoying itself in a large terracotta pot and I must say that the perfume from the flowers is heady to say the least! Given that lemons are sold for $1 each in the supermarket I can't wait for own ones to get a move on and grow:</div>
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This rhubarb was termed 'French' when I purchased it at the local Farmers' market the other week. My father grew champagne rhubarb and as a child I hated it! As an adult my tastes have changed and I like it a lot. I do not know why this is called French Rhubarb. Perhaps they put the word 'French' on it to attract people like me! At the moment it remains in the pot while it acclimatises to the garden. I went to a website called Rhubarb Central to see what varieties there are but the term French Rhubarb was not to be found. Perhaps it is an old name... When my old gardening books arrive I shall look it up and see. That wilted leaf stalk has been removed.</div>
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This is a stone pine. It is only a baby at the moment but it is part of the group of plants destined for the acreage we intend to purchase. It is a plant that reminds me of the South of France and Italy.<br />
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We are able to grow bougainvillea in Victoria although it is not as prolific as it could be. I do enjoy this plant. I have seen them grown as hedges.<br />
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The garden in full swing:<br />
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The man-next-door gave my mother (Mme. O) this dahlia. Under the care of AGA it has blossomed and looks lovely!<br />
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The bijou herb garden is coming along nicely. Basil, Mint, Apple Mint, Tarragon, Chives, Rosemary, Flat-leafed parsley, Curly leaf parsley, Mme. O's tomato plant; all presided over by Apollo, basking in the sun.<br />
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I hope you have enjoyed having a poke around our garden!<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08642768891794895642noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1636243284078640845.post-41573242861805400152015-02-12T21:10:00.000-08:002015-02-12T21:10:04.960-08:00At long last...<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span lang="EN-GB">It’s been a long time.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">Actually, it's <i>very</i> long time.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">I last made an entry on this little bijou blog back in June of last
year.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Since that time <i>so</i> much has
happened that I have had little or no time to even think about my blog, let alone write something in it.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">This is what happened:</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">We returned to Melbourne to
spend time with AGA’s father who was slowing dying of the cancer ravaging his body. We went to see him in the hospital almost every day and we were able to play our part in taking care of him and his needs in those final days.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We then
attended the funeral of the father of a dear friend, which took place in
Country Victoria, and upon on return AGA’s own father died.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The death of a parent brings with it a lot of
responsibilities and AGA and his siblings (with us spouses as support) had a very difficult couple of weeks sorting things out.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">Then it seemed that one minute we were at the funeral and the next we
were on a 'plane and returning to Germany.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">Once back in Kaiserswerth we had to prepare for our <i>permanent</i> move back to Melbourne. There were forms to complete, the moving of our possessions to organise, the gradual withdrawal from all those things that we normally did, and all this while attending to our usual duties</span>!</div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">We employed a company in England to move 'us' to Australia because our German is not expert and we wanted to
be certain that we would understand all that was taking place.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">We had a lot to move.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><br /></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">When I write ‘a lot’ I really do mean it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A 40 foot high cube shipping container – the biggest
there is for domestic use – was required.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We had to prepare the inventory as well as working out what was going to go and what was not.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB"><span style="font-size: x-small;">This photo was taken in the midst of trying to get everything in to a couple of rooms for ease of sorting out what stays and what goes with us to Melbourne. All of this was going...</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">Seven chandeliers, thirty odd clocks of different shapes and sizes, chairs, cooking equipment, the croquet set, copious cushions, lamps, chairs, tables, and I-don't-know-how-many-books to name but a few: it all adds up! And then we had to organise a storage facility for when it arrived in Melbourne.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">In the midst of this we were able to travel to Stockholm for a week's holiday as well as a weekend in Paris and another in London to catch up with friends. They provided small windows of sanity in our suddenly frenetic lifestyle.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">And of course there were various hiccups along the way.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">The moving day arrived and there were hold ups because the moving men were stopped at the port of Calais due to a spot strike by dock workers.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">The upset and upheaval of seeing one's possessions being wrapped up and sent over the balcony (via a conveyer belt) to the van that would wind its way through the streets of the village to where the moving van was parked was somewhat distressing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">I didn't like returning home to see this. . .</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">The moving men were rather young (the ‘boss’ was twenty-one) but they were extremely helpful and understanding. We felt most confident in them but once everything was gone it all seemed rather forlorn. </span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">The once beautiful apartment was but an empty shell with mattresses on the floor for sleeping, some old bits of Ikea furniture that were not going with us, together with a ancient garden setting that was to serve as our table and chairs. We felt like Romanoff princes deprived of everything after the revolution!</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiktpbg2_ffxzSV-zHAvS9QzKQ2c_bhjTGFOHEzSW17fD2qPdIL2ZBqKuI7SQFDJC3WtglTbex9JSPSJfgEqPbwaSQKhaAoyP5ZpTqvSoQz7J8cYgfSZQYp9MQ1ru9NBt4kzBVP2EWEbqWa/s1600/IMG_4442.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiktpbg2_ffxzSV-zHAvS9QzKQ2c_bhjTGFOHEzSW17fD2qPdIL2ZBqKuI7SQFDJC3WtglTbex9JSPSJfgEqPbwaSQKhaAoyP5ZpTqvSoQz7J8cYgfSZQYp9MQ1ru9NBt4kzBVP2EWEbqWa/s1600/IMG_4442.JPG" height="478" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Our apartment was somewhat empty after the moving men had cleared it all out.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">In Germany it is the renter’s responsibility to have the apartment painted to the satisfaction of the landlord, prior to leaving. Failure to do so will mean that the bond money one put down will not be returned. So we had that to organise as well. Luckily a very nice chap from the school was able to be employed to attend to it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">The apartment was not the same any more. All of our 'stuff' was gone and the rooms echoed. I was not even sure that Fritz, our name for the ghost that lives in the building was even bothering to visit. I don’t think that he would have liked it. AGA said that perhaps he had decided to go with the furniture. If he did then he is in for a shock as he spends a few weeks on the ocean waves.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">And, as I said previously, while all this was happening we had our day-to-day work to attend to. I found the emotional aspect of saying goodbye to the school children extremely draining. It was very hard going I can tell you.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">So there we were in an empty apartment. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">No books. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">No harpsichord. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">No paintings. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">No beautiful things.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">It was all somewhat depressing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">Having attended Midnight Mass at St Swidbertus for the last time, we spent Christmas Day in the apartment, and had a simple meal to celebrate; inviting our good friend Susan B to dine with us. It was awkward with no good cooking pots and only garden furniture to sit at but we managed to create some semblance of a festive repast and Susan is always good company.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">It was cold!</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">And then it was time for the hand over. </span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">It felt strange to walk away from the apartment we had lived in for over seven years, knowing that we would never return to it. We had enjoyed our time there and while we were ready to begin our new adventure, we could not help but be a little sad.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">We spent the last week of our time in Germany staying at the apartment of friends who had gone to London for the hols, and had kindly said that we could stay there rather than in our own, empty apartment. </span></div>
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Once again we had a proper bed to sleep in rather than sleeping on the floor. AGA was particularly pleased because the moving men had accidentally packed his pillow and he had been using old, rolled up towels as a substitute.</div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">On New Year’s Eve we boarded the plane at Dusseldorf airport and late on New Year’s Day, after a fairly uneventful flight, arrived in Melbourne to be greeted by my mother, sister, and niece. It was nice to be back amongst our families once more.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">Of course the arrival was followed by the inevitable bout of jetlag and I find as I get older that it takes longer to get over. Someone told me that one should allow a day's recovery for every hour one flies but that would be twenty-one days! I am pleased to say that that was not the case although it did take about ten before we were sleeping normally once more. </span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">Another shock was the weather. We lunched with a friend on the day before we flew out and experienced a high of -2c. Two days after arriving in Melbourne, the weather soared to 40 degrees C. Needless to say we were rather worn out. However since that day the temperature has sat mainly in the twenties, which has been much better – wi</span>th the occasional early to mid 30s thrown in for good measure but then it is summer so one should expect it.</div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">So there we were in Melbourne and feeling rather happy when a calamity occurred. We had just sat down at table for lunch when a cracking sound was heard coming from the ceiling. Next thing we knew we were busy propping the structure up as for some reason it chose that moment to come away from the building structure. </span>Luckily plasterers and electricians were on hand and after a week all was back to normal.</div>
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But not before some rather unwanted dramatic moments. The following photos show the scene prior to the arrival of the workmen (with a pensive mother in the background). The second one is in the midst of the work when it looked as though a bomb had hit the room. The final photograph shows the room back to normal and looking as if nothing had ever happened:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB26W0pUTRSY2VwVlf5b0oLqVb01tlDA1DCcIIf3ez56Sx5mu7Mt_S66-DQchlZ_o5nAmI9XBml3aQEZ90YNxV1FrhAPOIa-KJkArSZHX1g7Ad3-46j2aaSepHFe9mkHDvjcKVtMmdUjQF/s1600/PicMonkey+Collage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB26W0pUTRSY2VwVlf5b0oLqVb01tlDA1DCcIIf3ez56Sx5mu7Mt_S66-DQchlZ_o5nAmI9XBml3aQEZ90YNxV1FrhAPOIa-KJkArSZHX1g7Ad3-46j2aaSepHFe9mkHDvjcKVtMmdUjQF/s1600/PicMonkey+Collage.jpg" height="640" width="366" /></a></div>
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And so my friends, what with one thing and another I am only now returning to the calm and tranquility of my blog. </div>
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Here at the edge of the Yarra Valley, the garden is looking lovely:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAYhxRZktmQCa9xgrYWDwEDV7jwUxLIu6X1pI7Y9og7CDfLp2aDWDPCjKoRk-lbD4v_exMlHvpq0SknalaDHFI9hUauMDr9ygCpT0Z0TMO-w1bO3jpEz-omNZCXdLrX7GZddDOEz9XVxmv/s1600/IMG_4498.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAYhxRZktmQCa9xgrYWDwEDV7jwUxLIu6X1pI7Y9og7CDfLp2aDWDPCjKoRk-lbD4v_exMlHvpq0SknalaDHFI9hUauMDr9ygCpT0Z0TMO-w1bO3jpEz-omNZCXdLrX7GZddDOEz9XVxmv/s1600/IMG_4498.jpg" height="640" width="476" /></a></div>
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We are experiencing the delights of summer in Melbourne:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicYJyPsFISM-A_BrkrrmcbO4GGlaGlgnECE9MYoU7G0waEiQbFvg-j0A07HGoixE4FAvy5j35JovecNW_sqjq1APr6PQ2Iuc_iBtFd8xvNiyXl4OBQl2HzoSPAD1dfb7oNUe9i5smUNNjh/s1600/IMG_4575.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicYJyPsFISM-A_BrkrrmcbO4GGlaGlgnECE9MYoU7G0waEiQbFvg-j0A07HGoixE4FAvy5j35JovecNW_sqjq1APr6PQ2Iuc_iBtFd8xvNiyXl4OBQl2HzoSPAD1dfb7oNUe9i5smUNNjh/s1600/IMG_4575.jpg" height="640" width="478" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">We bought a small barbecue until we get a brick one constructed.</span></div>
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And all would appear to be right with the world once more.</div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">I do hope that you will forgive my absence (given the circumstances). We are motoring over to the country town of Daylesford this weekend and I shall take some photos to share with you while I am there.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-GB">I also hope that you enjoyed this post!</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08642768891794895642noreply@blogger.com30tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1636243284078640845.post-65812931916633257482014-06-29T16:46:00.000-07:002014-06-29T16:46:50.619-07:00We were there, now we are here!For the past week, AGA and I have been recovering from jet lag.<br />
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We are at present in Melbourne for a few weeks, visiting the family and preparing for our migration in December.</div>
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It is a difficult time because AGA's father is still a very ill man. It has become quite clear that he can no longer remain in the family home because he needs 24 hour care. At present he is in a local hospital for respite care and it is unclear how long he will remain there as he is recovering from a fall he had a few day ago. This creeping form of cancer is a terrible thing. We go to see him every day at present but usually he is too tired to speak more than a few words at a time, and by the end of half an hour he has drifted off to sleep in his wheelchair.</div>
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To counteract the jet lag that a 30 hour journey (including three stops en-route) gives one, we have tried to keep ourselves busy, especially in the garden.<br />
Thanks to the wonders of the Internet we were able to go online in Germany and order plants for our garden in Melbourne. They arrived the other day in two large cardboard boxes:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGpD8r4j1TkQRDb7HL14Uhjh1dk4YJ_9orooUr1ycxcXHnJU6v6gzlkb5fctqepYYJOPfNGMuIbJ5bYy0NinxxkKnP1bOO-UdeH0ZmDLTf1JjDz38ZjS6ov2BcmCwRQxOk_-qB9Vdgq1Ax/s1600/IMG_5011.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGpD8r4j1TkQRDb7HL14Uhjh1dk4YJ_9orooUr1ycxcXHnJU6v6gzlkb5fctqepYYJOPfNGMuIbJ5bYy0NinxxkKnP1bOO-UdeH0ZmDLTf1JjDz38ZjS6ov2BcmCwRQxOk_-qB9Vdgq1Ax/s1600/IMG_5011.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a></div>
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Inside the were treasures!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjjR7z6xYZHb-K9Rd2jjHxV8he9m-lGbhadnAh689mkMBaG28Mv-tN5etccZfnLMOmBVNyraTjh6uqygIs2CRGrW83qKqojHgO3PnCiI1SYUf7ZRAE8GZs-wH3Wjvh43WpekV1_fQRHgL-/s1600/IMG_5013.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjjR7z6xYZHb-K9Rd2jjHxV8he9m-lGbhadnAh689mkMBaG28Mv-tN5etccZfnLMOmBVNyraTjh6uqygIs2CRGrW83qKqojHgO3PnCiI1SYUf7ZRAE8GZs-wH3Wjvh43WpekV1_fQRHgL-/s1600/IMG_5013.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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And more treasures!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiff9mNgCXm3hfI9n5Ot0GauqrJsEkPMD48orcKKB0FuFpPkGpvEU33F3G00sbggHlqCzOPsE1i1ueTjqDODUMGwSu03ID_exp2pabWUJPDoXJ3aIUZkyljpH38E4wCq_9kVA5um9kSeOcX/s1600/IMG_5014.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiff9mNgCXm3hfI9n5Ot0GauqrJsEkPMD48orcKKB0FuFpPkGpvEU33F3G00sbggHlqCzOPsE1i1ueTjqDODUMGwSu03ID_exp2pabWUJPDoXJ3aIUZkyljpH38E4wCq_9kVA5um9kSeOcX/s1600/IMG_5014.JPG" height="640" width="480" /></a></div>
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And there were these:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy8Ji9CXF3Zj6G0Jx25ywp0RNla1hrK_JqbSGwub3zZPtJIm-m6VU0mX8Ulm6mUjX8m1W4gq9_RMXw1WKtDz_ZJ98uckmT0rgmAj3cQ0z3EAlXuwPxvpzHqiC_LCai6BXmE9IaHCcfJ1aA/s1600/IMG_5016.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy8Ji9CXF3Zj6G0Jx25ywp0RNla1hrK_JqbSGwub3zZPtJIm-m6VU0mX8Ulm6mUjX8m1W4gq9_RMXw1WKtDz_ZJ98uckmT0rgmAj3cQ0z3EAlXuwPxvpzHqiC_LCai6BXmE9IaHCcfJ1aA/s1600/IMG_5016.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
Delphiniums. <br />
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At first I thought they were dead but they came with this sign:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3qHrHqIF_5b8HFPCLggC2NHbixz1VzxGIRyWtxLzobS1RE_MFvB6SetsGYA3bGe9Rp5-JYR8l0JqSkRFiKXeu-UsvycSqC6qYtVe2GXMoQsip1UIvzEmqP_WDF8IK57WKuIBY-RbclKra/s1600/IMG_5017.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3qHrHqIF_5b8HFPCLggC2NHbixz1VzxGIRyWtxLzobS1RE_MFvB6SetsGYA3bGe9Rp5-JYR8l0JqSkRFiKXeu-UsvycSqC6qYtVe2GXMoQsip1UIvzEmqP_WDF8IK57WKuIBY-RbclKra/s1600/IMG_5017.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a></div>
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Then, down to Bunnings (a local hardware/nursery chain that we LOVE) for some potting mix and some dried cow manure:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheNP8QtMI59yxin7cVq72aPT6QNUSckUMPHsJ8RA7N5VCKxynXuuZTG9T3KjAzqrBdCyUhA9NXx5krOSFOsHaMIfrwzGBgUQ0Sadw4PU8SwZqOMTzPEsEBkP9AaqoCWA-FkhIrXrBv79mU/s1600/IMG_5035.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheNP8QtMI59yxin7cVq72aPT6QNUSckUMPHsJ8RA7N5VCKxynXuuZTG9T3KjAzqrBdCyUhA9NXx5krOSFOsHaMIfrwzGBgUQ0Sadw4PU8SwZqOMTzPEsEBkP9AaqoCWA-FkhIrXrBv79mU/s1600/IMG_5035.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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. . . because we have pots to fill!</div>
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These are known as 'citrus pots' and will one day be home to lemon trees when we build a new house. In the meantime our small lemon tree grows in a more modest pot:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwi7VX14yYBoWIuLHVQt7pDN5NmaIAzLgz1uK_ZKmaX2ADKMJs-tvW9c_24UG-eC5k9D5PV8kNcbbyoZFgFBkn9tnQq9a_YrVFBP-2Mw6cr0CPrwnMKBNyD2t7N8QXMvzZMPwWrWpB6JR2/s1600/IMG_5024.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwi7VX14yYBoWIuLHVQt7pDN5NmaIAzLgz1uK_ZKmaX2ADKMJs-tvW9c_24UG-eC5k9D5PV8kNcbbyoZFgFBkn9tnQq9a_YrVFBP-2Mw6cr0CPrwnMKBNyD2t7N8QXMvzZMPwWrWpB6JR2/s1600/IMG_5024.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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We planted a few parma violet seedlings in this pot but underneath are lots of bluebells. We are ophinh they will put on a lovely display when they grown and flower:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq9ho2MT_9PZThhKGGWiLV1wX85aWetLHO-Us4nas4G4HZU17_r9WgLPpKTpbvBF04fRHSIWMqoTsGS-MJc7zr-0UsosiLTbEAYSxso9-1lBG6S3Y7gLAh3fzAKxGZPEMoO4xdkOk9Fogp/s1600/IMG_5038.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq9ho2MT_9PZThhKGGWiLV1wX85aWetLHO-Us4nas4G4HZU17_r9WgLPpKTpbvBF04fRHSIWMqoTsGS-MJc7zr-0UsosiLTbEAYSxso9-1lBG6S3Y7gLAh3fzAKxGZPEMoO4xdkOk9Fogp/s1600/IMG_5038.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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Meanwhile, the camellias are in full bloom:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4LRhX5Sra_ICdEi1RIuuuXUc1qSoxtNWwHN3DzVMF7OkC1oU5ap0OC2o93lTnfgErPmP7oW-nzTvX0qUAGPID5auO2JSbjnjrKc_dFIJk0kKJ_i4ZBiZyIsGjl1DTVsrx8nhkqiahCi02/s1600/IMG_5056.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4LRhX5Sra_ICdEi1RIuuuXUc1qSoxtNWwHN3DzVMF7OkC1oU5ap0OC2o93lTnfgErPmP7oW-nzTvX0qUAGPID5auO2JSbjnjrKc_dFIJk0kKJ_i4ZBiZyIsGjl1DTVsrx8nhkqiahCi02/s1600/IMG_5056.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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There is plenty of work still to do!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNyqr8nGWWeShyphenhyphensvNGUhwTmAOrc_7g9b7bud63pjln_SG2UT-QkajBTEvXDQkgwK2eKmCX1HhqpfoQmwB8mRblMqKA2N-do7STylE_oii2bya_CbbflXS29DdvzqKjFXUcybzDb3L4yktw/s1600/IMG_5058.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNyqr8nGWWeShyphenhyphensvNGUhwTmAOrc_7g9b7bud63pjln_SG2UT-QkajBTEvXDQkgwK2eKmCX1HhqpfoQmwB8mRblMqKA2N-do7STylE_oii2bya_CbbflXS29DdvzqKjFXUcybzDb3L4yktw/s1600/IMG_5058.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08642768891794895642noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1636243284078640845.post-63621053937767547332014-06-11T11:37:00.000-07:002014-06-11T11:37:57.351-07:00The Elements at war<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
It has been oppressively hot in Germany over the past week or so. </div>
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Hot and extremely humid.</div>
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We seemed to go from cool weather in which we wondered whether the summer would ever arrive, to having it suddenly switched on and put on 'extra high'. The high level of pollution in the skies over the wide shallow valley in which Dusseldorf sits, combine to keep the heat in one place for long periods of time.</div>
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Combine this with hundreds of children under the age of twelve who spend lunchtime running around on the playground, and then come, sweaty and smelly, to the Library for book choice time and I think you get this picture. With no air conditioning the classrooms and the library gradually warm up and by the time we are ready to go home we are well nigh wilting!</div>
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And then on top of all that we have had 'The Storm'.</div>
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* * * * * *</div>
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Monday was a public holiday (Pentecost Monday) and had proven to be rather a pleasant, albeit warm, day:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPbkMTCO7rkLg44_B809YFZnsdA7xNnhW78CnwMjtwmCqq6Q1yyhBet4e_XPYJ8WdngpAq-o-BTNmug1ivl7Ut4Vz_vgtB-Be7_TtRcqCy6XPxEKP-MGsuxXTuDX8xmTIeDrAQcyOSfHdg/s1600/IMG_3250.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPbkMTCO7rkLg44_B809YFZnsdA7xNnhW78CnwMjtwmCqq6Q1yyhBet4e_XPYJ8WdngpAq-o-BTNmug1ivl7Ut4Vz_vgtB-Be7_TtRcqCy6XPxEKP-MGsuxXTuDX8xmTIeDrAQcyOSfHdg/s1600/IMG_3250.jpg" height="640" width="478" /></a></div>
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In the evening we had dinner on our balcony:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUMacJtGfjdct7obLDTsHHEKDB3IYs1iU0Kj2K6e1RIP8lgGWaYv4OjrIMQWO4dxvOyvW0nZZ0zbnM767KZ2SvJxdzWqWTzvFdESy5077exIT8yr6b65jCgElK5qGBSXBXoQZKvpTCDkCN/s1600/IMG_3256.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUMacJtGfjdct7obLDTsHHEKDB3IYs1iU0Kj2K6e1RIP8lgGWaYv4OjrIMQWO4dxvOyvW0nZZ0zbnM767KZ2SvJxdzWqWTzvFdESy5077exIT8yr6b65jCgElK5qGBSXBXoQZKvpTCDkCN/s1600/IMG_3256.jpg" height="640" width="478" /></a></div>
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We admired the first of our Asiatic lilies to flower:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh73k5_sC2amRH6X0kciHij_D42BOW4IDrHGDnss0HY4bBp78fznFdTWmkQxc2CTHnr2D3apgVPpbbH12QAkWshd-wOcwN_8ng3qhangYUWtqnh6Z-kvk4dRlPxZyVy8eWCLp_WsoP1Z1o4/s1600/IMG_3257.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh73k5_sC2amRH6X0kciHij_D42BOW4IDrHGDnss0HY4bBp78fznFdTWmkQxc2CTHnr2D3apgVPpbbH12QAkWshd-wOcwN_8ng3qhangYUWtqnh6Z-kvk4dRlPxZyVy8eWCLp_WsoP1Z1o4/s1600/IMG_3257.jpg" height="640" width="478" /></a></div>
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An hour later and we were running about battening down the hatches!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirN4XlaZ0jQ-DNEJ2sdpyRHpBP_oJ32ArnD_QD_INt5_d3F6uLKrMZC8SVbCz-5LKebLl0NipoFWpRnFeRoSZ4HrXkga47VNAQR4SUD_vrZ_Pjj5amukDlW3_Chbgbs6fGCMQCLS-3iOls/s1600/wie-hier-an-pfingstmontag-bei-geseke-in-nordrhein-westfalen-drohen-heute-in-weiten-landesteilen-schwere-gewitter.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirN4XlaZ0jQ-DNEJ2sdpyRHpBP_oJ32ArnD_QD_INt5_d3F6uLKrMZC8SVbCz-5LKebLl0NipoFWpRnFeRoSZ4HrXkga47VNAQR4SUD_vrZ_Pjj5amukDlW3_Chbgbs6fGCMQCLS-3iOls/s1600/wie-hier-an-pfingstmontag-bei-geseke-in-nordrhein-westfalen-drohen-heute-in-weiten-landesteilen-schwere-gewitter.jpg" height="356" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">http://liveblog.t-online.de/Event/Schwere_Unwetter_wuten_uber_Deutschland_2</span></div>
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The storm came rolling across the sky before we were ready for it. The clouds were suddenly yellowish and extremely angry looking. </div>
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Full bellied with mischief.</div>
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The birds had all gone quiet. The wind picked up and reading the signs, we and our neighbors began to take down the pot plants, lay the tables and chairs on the balcony floor, and take inside everything that might be considered fragile. </div>
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Then the storm hit.</div>
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The sky was suddenly as black as night and the sound of thunder was everywhere. </div>
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(I recall that my great-grandmother had a habit of waking up the entire household if a storm occurred at night. She would everyone get up and go down to the cellars, no matter how fast asleep they might have been.)</div>
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As the storm vented its full fury upon us, I stood at the doorway and try to make some videos with my iPad, but it was too dark and too violent and so we abandoned the idea and retreating inside, closed the doors, the windows, and pulled down the external blinds. </div>
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There was one truly enormous crack of thunder right above the apartment that frightened the living day lights out of us but then, after a while it all seemed to die down and we went to sleep. At 5:30 in the morning it started up again, even more violently than previous. I slept like a babe thoughout this second round but AGA was awakened and stayed awake for quite a while. A parent I was talking to later at school told me that at the height of the storm she witnessed a fire ball!</div>
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In the morning all was calm once again. Birds were singing and all was peaceful. I looked out of the sitting room windows but could see no damage, and as we began our walk to school I said to AGA that it appeared to have been a lot of bluster but not much else.</div>
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But as we walked through the village we realized that it had been a lot more than mere bluster...</div>
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Here is the Linden Avenue that leads out of Kaiserswerth, last weekend:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM0h0cI9GX8-UZp7BciXtJUOQn9AZePeIQU1fLn7zH7xhe-kaP3PxbL663Kt-qLdOucn-ZQHArbxBQJXdoQqYsTF5JdXqUMWXIvU2J7wisZK2msAn4pDGxabY14G6cKqLe2K2BUhC0GnO0/s1600/IMG_4957.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM0h0cI9GX8-UZp7BciXtJUOQn9AZePeIQU1fLn7zH7xhe-kaP3PxbL663Kt-qLdOucn-ZQHArbxBQJXdoQqYsTF5JdXqUMWXIvU2J7wisZK2msAn4pDGxabY14G6cKqLe2K2BUhC0GnO0/s1600/IMG_4957.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a></div>
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And here it is yesterday, after the storm:<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ1k0qGWOPJVy1gQXTpP-GJSO0HWS91PdUDZhLd8DRk0YNSjwMAPh0tlRO3-xU71wr1Lx7PrEEqXDk47wI5GyQ1yZCukyaUh72Dc7hjRIDLZfvLdxnjmr46UGkV-RjlJtEDjUGzW7ZKUjJ/s1600/IMG_4965.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ1k0qGWOPJVy1gQXTpP-GJSO0HWS91PdUDZhLd8DRk0YNSjwMAPh0tlRO3-xU71wr1Lx7PrEEqXDk47wI5GyQ1yZCukyaUh72Dc7hjRIDLZfvLdxnjmr46UGkV-RjlJtEDjUGzW7ZKUjJ/s1600/IMG_4965.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a><br />
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I do not know why some trees were spared while others fell.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdRz6nkZd-7lOwPMjgVoRduBl-VYqbUBFZYMe2Z3sFqSwPDhgVpRtN5OAxOJwvGL58DSRZYUgZO0WSgnAwgObi0fKb8t-ETU2ayTQ9VXpTLAM5tBf_8bl0V1bf4whvGusicYt1xWGE86bn/s1600/IMG_4966.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdRz6nkZd-7lOwPMjgVoRduBl-VYqbUBFZYMe2Z3sFqSwPDhgVpRtN5OAxOJwvGL58DSRZYUgZO0WSgnAwgObi0fKb8t-ETU2ayTQ9VXpTLAM5tBf_8bl0V1bf4whvGusicYt1xWGE86bn/s1600/IMG_4966.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a></div>
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Our end of the village was blocked by falling trees<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2N2WGfCMX_hkjZyWzpvLFiqX3GJZAoc9ACao4QrgrukvKuNGx-Zve75SLUwN_n_Hgfg37VKWAj-cODo3SNYRDO3JoxAUPNgawO3UpXLV4euVzBOZSzuMn52rPVbyP38yvZnt2gDT1LZQQ/s1600/IMG_4968.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2N2WGfCMX_hkjZyWzpvLFiqX3GJZAoc9ACao4QrgrukvKuNGx-Zve75SLUwN_n_Hgfg37VKWAj-cODo3SNYRDO3JoxAUPNgawO3UpXLV4euVzBOZSzuMn52rPVbyP38yvZnt2gDT1LZQQ/s1600/IMG_4968.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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...while the other end was flooded because the drains had backed up under the huge volume of water. The roads were bumper to bumper with traffic as cars navigated fallen trees on the main roads in order to get to work. <br />
For our part, we walk to school and so we had to navigate our way around (or over) various fallen trees on the way…<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo-SsFrXhzEpN8trKJh6VN93WBh48mrl8T12HB_xji1VyBQEXRdz1ZP58ub7iqwJEnu6yJzkPzhqCW1fFinchzfuQKwqz-Yx3kU2pBNKI73GFOQCDSfDDLutGHdGSIL5oQetgPU3n5BVYL/s1600/IMG_4978.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo-SsFrXhzEpN8trKJh6VN93WBh48mrl8T12HB_xji1VyBQEXRdz1ZP58ub7iqwJEnu6yJzkPzhqCW1fFinchzfuQKwqz-Yx3kU2pBNKI73GFOQCDSfDDLutGHdGSIL5oQetgPU3n5BVYL/s1600/IMG_4978.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a><br />
The massive trunks had to be climbed over and I soon realised that I am not as nimble as I was when in my twenties…<br />
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We passed parents walking their children in the opposite direction, to get to the local village kindergarten:<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXPeJHGfNYv8GUF5NUzLW185j8pIPSX6fR_jF4OyYagxAejPKkr2_rwu13y8Py3RSpsxe8kXiDGxDDK-34xMajvvIVYidKaSaUfijWjGkC6iJKBDtOYu7PWDFpv3_mhAHgXT6vkI5EsYn_/s1600/IMG_4970.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXPeJHGfNYv8GUF5NUzLW185j8pIPSX6fR_jF4OyYagxAejPKkr2_rwu13y8Py3RSpsxe8kXiDGxDDK-34xMajvvIVYidKaSaUfijWjGkC6iJKBDtOYu7PWDFpv3_mhAHgXT6vkI5EsYn_/s1600/IMG_4970.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a><br />
No cars could get through.<br />
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No one was going to be able to move their cars until the trees were cleared. I think that a lot of branches came down because they were laden with flowers.<br />
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Imagine the force that broke and twisted this tree:<br />
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The branch of this tree (together with the top part) was snapped off and blown into the nearby allotments. It crushed the little allotment houses and took a day to saw up and clear away.</div>
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These few photographs show the damage in our small village. It was duplicated all over the city and the general area on a much grander scale. On the weekend I am going to walk by the river to see what has happened as I am told that most of the trees lining the Rhine have been blown down. </div>
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Trees had fallen on the tram lines, upon countless cars, on houses. Lightning strikes caused fires despite the driving rain. Sadly six people were killed - cyclists and gardeners caught unaware - but considering how swiftly the storm blew up, and its ferocity, it is surprising there were not more.</div>
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We are going to have a lot of disruptions as gangs slowly clear the debris. </div>
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On a lighter note, a student told AGA that their trampoline was blown clear away and they have no idea where it went. I was telling a colleague who told me that she counted four floating in the Rhine - carried there by the force of the storm. Others were blown in to fields. Our lily lost one petal and another one bravely opened, as if to defy the elements!</div>
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There were many other areas in Germany that were hit harder than we were and the storm seemed to make the heat and humidity even worse. As I write this we are experiencing a little relief although it is still 22c at 8:12 in the evening.</div>
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. . . and because we live in the 21st Century where iPods and iPads and mobile phones are our means of instant communication, everyone - young and old - have been out and about taking photos and movies and whatnot. And so I joined them to provide you with a small window on what we have experienced here in the last forty-eight hours. </div>
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If you are interested you can read more about the storm <a href="http://www.bbc.com/news/world-europe-27776189">here</a>.</div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08642768891794895642noreply@blogger.com32tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1636243284078640845.post-34356984784958861992014-05-26T06:27:00.001-07:002014-05-26T06:36:05.756-07:00Strange happenings in the Long GalleryLast February, whilst on holiday in London, we decided to pop down to Richmond and visit Ham House:<br />
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The front:<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgRvGCFPnL_F2NWy1eN1uC_wlhG3-2jWXUttZyn40d9sbUqBc_blzif3PpUwOt8VTvWK5_pFeBqmuhIoMyH1FSbePOZBXB0Jt85NvdWJHOm8edwbzOTdogFJFoIKVo0qvW9CY_QIlppMJZ/s1600/IMG_3576.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgRvGCFPnL_F2NWy1eN1uC_wlhG3-2jWXUttZyn40d9sbUqBc_blzif3PpUwOt8VTvWK5_pFeBqmuhIoMyH1FSbePOZBXB0Jt85NvdWJHOm8edwbzOTdogFJFoIKVo0qvW9CY_QIlppMJZ/s1600/IMG_3576.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a><br />
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The very handsome rear view:<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX9UP4Qbgg3bnV5samUpja6HmegqGzihNfT0ci0GWi8kUR6KInVmuu-QbGWA4UqaVQFGcpGzqzHJEv6kYB_5YkGN9fyh0sTFS-HkB8wQp1isUSeEFJHb4e34Jalp9XrWeCpjEHKj7S2DXW/s1600/IMG_3582.jpg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX9UP4Qbgg3bnV5samUpja6HmegqGzihNfT0ci0GWi8kUR6KInVmuu-QbGWA4UqaVQFGcpGzqzHJEv6kYB_5YkGN9fyh0sTFS-HkB8wQp1isUSeEFJHb4e34Jalp9XrWeCpjEHKj7S2DXW/s1600/IMG_3582.jpg.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a><br />
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As with most old country houses, Ham House has a very interesting history. </div>
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Having been built at the beginning of the early seventeenth century (about 1610), the house was leased by King Charles I to his good friend, William Murray.</div>
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I should point out here that William Murray had been Charles' whipping boy when CHarles was a young prince. In the 15th and 16th Century, only the King was allowed to punish or whip his sons because they had the potential to become kings themselves, and in the Stuart era, when the Divine Right of Kings was rampant, no one would dare to strike a king (or a king-in-waiting) and yet sometimes, even princes needed punishment. This is where the whipping boy came in - taking the punishment meant for the prince. Luckily, it would appear that Charles was a relatively well-behaved child and so William Murray rarely suffered punishment.</div>
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Of course there were benefits to being the whipping boy. Living with the prince's household, sharing his schooling and, as in the case of William and Charles, forming a close friendship: A very profitable situation to be in!</div>
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When they were grown up and Charles was King, William not only received Ham House but an earldom as well...</div>
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* * * * * *</div>
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These days Ham House is run by the National Trust and is closed for much of the Winter. On the day we attended, they had opened a few rooms as a preliminary to 'The Season'. As these times, entry is only permissible for those who choose to go on a guided tour. We were okay with that and duly joined the group waiting at the front door.</div>
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The 'thing' about Ham House is that it is said to be haunted. The star among the ghosts is Elizabeth, daughter of William, and Duchess of Lauderdale. </div>
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Here she is with her second husband, John Maitland, Duke of Lauderdale:</div>
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;">http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:John_Maitland,_1st_duke_of_Lauderdale,_and_his_wife_Elizabeth_Murry,_Duchess_of_Lauderdale_(3977704407).jpg</span></div>
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Surviving both of her husbands, Elizabeth stayed on at Ham House, and died there. Her ghost is said to often be heard and sometimes seen on the stairs . . .<br />
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. . . and in various other parts of the house as well. Her dog is said to do the rounds with her; and the Duke of Lauderdale haunts one of the main rooms, so it is very much a family affair!<br />
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Anyway…<br />
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We went in through the front door with the others on the tour:<br />
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We walked through the various rooms and looked at the treasures they contained:<br />
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Soon we were up in the Long Gallery, where various wonderful paintings are to be seen:<br />
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One in particular is this:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkvHlnGgXnDxSjl60Fo08nbmePXXg7uyBi7FmwfoICBr1hR2xfCoN-u5fXImFe4rF77huF39ebx8dRBF0QRwNXBjvvG3ZEvMZUHgP9FoI8oFSmT1IJbiuWWI0AJ2XD1FnjEI2qlUFYlGaw/s1600/IMG_2173.jpg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkvHlnGgXnDxSjl60Fo08nbmePXXg7uyBi7FmwfoICBr1hR2xfCoN-u5fXImFe4rF77huF39ebx8dRBF0QRwNXBjvvG3ZEvMZUHgP9FoI8oFSmT1IJbiuWWI0AJ2XD1FnjEI2qlUFYlGaw/s1600/IMG_2173.jpg.jpg" height="640" width="640" /></a></div>
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'Self Portrait with Sunflower' by Antony van Dyk - I do like this painting.</div>
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Then AGA saw this portrait of the Duchess of Lauderdale and asked me to take a photo because given the subject matter, he intended to use it as in example of slavery, in a unit of inquiry he was teaching. For some reason I felt a little uneasy as I took the photo:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgegTvo4c_itzp63RzrPQfoGYV4xkZ3du7cz-_8qCKUPhDj0pAfEBbM27Jy1z3Vg7LhyhYb8MmVgAyxNeUAs3gXMum0Bsv8edodkHOYSKKau17hrV3Y69LZaiF338Lst8_Pa3yZGUbWuzd7/s1600/IMG_2175.jpg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgegTvo4c_itzp63RzrPQfoGYV4xkZ3du7cz-_8qCKUPhDj0pAfEBbM27Jy1z3Vg7LhyhYb8MmVgAyxNeUAs3gXMum0Bsv8edodkHOYSKKau17hrV3Y69LZaiF338Lst8_Pa3yZGUbWuzd7/s1600/IMG_2175.jpg.jpg" height="640" width="640" /></a></div>
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Everyone else left the room, including AGA but I (and another chap) lingered to take a few more photos while the guide stood at the doorway. I particularly wanted to take this one of King Charles I. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUBwmHVGkHlFOd40lmuU3DzXLHwdVMg0j3ENvNtxLYnSZ_kHZ7Lvjbj2_Rl_ZXgoKz6ZlB0g4-lXHlYp3kcE1MaGh6rqfI9Ao4gJacmAyCY34OrWKDcZda0aWxcvkSAhShQLsXCKRCD0al/s1600/IMG_2176.jpg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUBwmHVGkHlFOd40lmuU3DzXLHwdVMg0j3ENvNtxLYnSZ_kHZ7Lvjbj2_Rl_ZXgoKz6ZlB0g4-lXHlYp3kcE1MaGh6rqfI9Ao4gJacmAyCY34OrWKDcZda0aWxcvkSAhShQLsXCKRCD0al/s1600/IMG_2176.jpg.jpg" height="640" width="640" /></a></div>
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The portrait faces that of the Duchess, and as I took the photo, I had the strangest feeling come over me. <br />
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It is hard to explain accurately but I felt as if I had been passed through by something. My energy was completely drained and I thought I was going to pass out. I remember closing my eyes and saying silently to myself: 'pull yourself together!' </div>
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The sensation was brief and I soon felt absolutely fine. The others seemed unaware that anything had happened and so I left with them, went back through the gallery with AGA and the rest, then down the stairs. our tour concluded soon afterwards.</div>
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When we were well out of earshot of anyone else I told AGA what had happened. He is a very no-nonsense, scientific sort of chap. He told me in all seriousness that he had had exactly the same feeling on the stairs as we were leaving:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKTCk0oBRvgwM5UE13bpNrMunfqUyN5HwfE7umA_YsewUl1B-BsKKCmlz5968QvjSDS9ApkpG-_4OndH7wqTxrbUrFAX9abZLkhzN9gq_BfuwUZVO6T2qE6bOVMI0tBDksmZ08t4MWKc0Y/s1600/IMG_2165.jpg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKTCk0oBRvgwM5UE13bpNrMunfqUyN5HwfE7umA_YsewUl1B-BsKKCmlz5968QvjSDS9ApkpG-_4OndH7wqTxrbUrFAX9abZLkhzN9gq_BfuwUZVO6T2qE6bOVMI0tBDksmZ08t4MWKc0Y/s1600/IMG_2165.jpg.jpg" height="640" width="478" /></a></div>
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When I checked the guide book it said that the gallery and the stairs were supposedly the most haunted parts of the house. . .<br />
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So there you have it. <br />
Perhaps the Duchess was saying 'hello'. <br />
Then again, perhaps she heard the somewhat uncharitable remarks we had made about her possible personality while viewing her portrait and decided to give us a fright . . .<br />
Whatever it was, it was certainly most unusual and in time to come when we are very old, we will entertain the younger generations with talks of our visit to one of the most haunted houses in England.<br />
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By the way, even in winter, the gardens of Ham look nice:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjthEULXWxGlYboyVZF47j1NxREWC9Qgp3HyyC2jj5eAZcQrbj2NtxXhV9It5JBE6EuSTlfrpl17V1PUqt94A1ms9QyH5r-qhCWSNf9FU7StT3pOgrfazRCJUiFTuwH7ZIDmJuADbRe6K6z/s1600/PicMonkey+Collage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjthEULXWxGlYboyVZF47j1NxREWC9Qgp3HyyC2jj5eAZcQrbj2NtxXhV9It5JBE6EuSTlfrpl17V1PUqt94A1ms9QyH5r-qhCWSNf9FU7StT3pOgrfazRCJUiFTuwH7ZIDmJuADbRe6K6z/s1600/PicMonkey+Collage.jpg" height="420" width="640" /></a></div>
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And I think that this might appeal to <a href="http://willowbrookpark.blogspot.de/">David Cowell</a> over at the Willowbrook Park blog:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi65l9xnq-I6XSKR4_b_j6Jw6KtVOHHVzRCTKtsWI3JB30xUnIVKtqjOsRFUisGYaCU_8ZP1Vv1NALPP2QL_QI3S1FM2ezXXF11bsJm_NeAHnQf_v6Qqg667ihgMRJSsIIClM0Qi3MXPpAP/s1600/IMG_3578.jpg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi65l9xnq-I6XSKR4_b_j6Jw6KtVOHHVzRCTKtsWI3JB30xUnIVKtqjOsRFUisGYaCU_8ZP1Vv1NALPP2QL_QI3S1FM2ezXXF11bsJm_NeAHnQf_v6Qqg667ihgMRJSsIIClM0Qi3MXPpAP/s1600/IMG_3578.jpg.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a></div>
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I hope you enjoyed this post!</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08642768891794895642noreply@blogger.com22tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1636243284078640845.post-58485543941381772332014-05-17T03:22:00.001-07:002014-05-17T03:22:34.125-07:00Staggering about.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
A few months ago, I experienced a blog 'implosion' of sorts. </div>
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So many things started happening at the same time. </div>
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I didn't know if I was coming or going. . . </div>
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Thankfully, it hasn't been anything too serious but our lives have certainly been busy, and action-packed: work; family; and the preparations for our big move. All have filled up so much of my time and thoughts.</div>
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Have you ever experienced a time like that? At the end of the day one gets into bed and feels like pulling the bed covers over ones head and sleeping for ever!</div>
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Having said that, though, and before I make things sound too dramatic, I should add that it has <u>not</u> all been work and no play...</div>
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There has been eating:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-5hp-IoOpR2QkCajrk4jOyx-5-X_JlUeiQ_YZzN_MzYmOWmbMSfXknn1ZSDkXBx7kAWYdPC7dqF6oIPCaUFGAm4v7ls-I6wsbJM0w8h_fQCXX13qfsOQYHEZ9DqFety9k2-pD03TjPD6l/s1600/IMG_2814.jpg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-5hp-IoOpR2QkCajrk4jOyx-5-X_JlUeiQ_YZzN_MzYmOWmbMSfXknn1ZSDkXBx7kAWYdPC7dqF6oIPCaUFGAm4v7ls-I6wsbJM0w8h_fQCXX13qfsOQYHEZ9DqFety9k2-pD03TjPD6l/s1600/IMG_2814.jpg.jpg" height="298" width="400" /></a></div>
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A lot of eating:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuqNhlxu77xNzYsRejDCnD0f1-3KexJw9qOK7kr0qVJIJHJIIN8qLVPHOH1mfgzEeTgJ2ktf2sw0kw1QbMATFlACNWXv1-I3FfAkUIhiBa4mbnuc_zv_d4W3HKmCgQcmqD0WX5CJoPyNjs/s1600/IMG_3169.jpg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuqNhlxu77xNzYsRejDCnD0f1-3KexJw9qOK7kr0qVJIJHJIIN8qLVPHOH1mfgzEeTgJ2ktf2sw0kw1QbMATFlACNWXv1-I3FfAkUIhiBa4mbnuc_zv_d4W3HKmCgQcmqD0WX5CJoPyNjs/s1600/IMG_3169.jpg.jpg" height="400" width="298" /></a></div>
<br />
And sightseeing:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibgj_VHqHgePo9Cmje86Z0o4oEIKR4cHWj2EZu7JOTc3Uo-bPq4OfUuneQeMWOYDcDK7lvbdlHq1LGNs6GJQbkQYbUzInbZJKqvcppOEWmi54SEBvjlXlqmGQbBacKV34H7C2VJGgHf4s8/s1600/IMG_4039.jpg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibgj_VHqHgePo9Cmje86Z0o4oEIKR4cHWj2EZu7JOTc3Uo-bPq4OfUuneQeMWOYDcDK7lvbdlHq1LGNs6GJQbkQYbUzInbZJKqvcppOEWmi54SEBvjlXlqmGQbBacKV34H7C2VJGgHf4s8/s1600/IMG_4039.jpg.jpg" height="356" width="640" /></a></div>
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And shopping:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6D5mfjoAg99VmpurbLsmG_ozq95BDRNRIqhrEBCErejtKGQsrb6_78dlNBpETVesx1BE87bZK1UFsT5ru7lCNezbHRG5CtoaYhdsO0LSCzb5cbLEga6BWgdXC-NglJYGDs9noPakF4SUY/s1600/IMG_4337.jpg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6D5mfjoAg99VmpurbLsmG_ozq95BDRNRIqhrEBCErejtKGQsrb6_78dlNBpETVesx1BE87bZK1UFsT5ru7lCNezbHRG5CtoaYhdsO0LSCzb5cbLEga6BWgdXC-NglJYGDs9noPakF4SUY/s1600/IMG_4337.jpg.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a></div>
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And more sightseeing:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjQyy79Q5Hey3TOve8QRqLGyXvrGe6EaFnwi8QXFMxD10ep3A635CXQQXuVzWG-pd05_5aG1S83Yh7ICnONZYyW5IT-roiEIeDTizF1D8va6NdlQolKnq25iPlbHuDweXx8MnmT3JNeQZu/s1600/IMG_4799.jpg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjQyy79Q5Hey3TOve8QRqLGyXvrGe6EaFnwi8QXFMxD10ep3A635CXQQXuVzWG-pd05_5aG1S83Yh7ICnONZYyW5IT-roiEIeDTizF1D8va6NdlQolKnq25iPlbHuDweXx8MnmT3JNeQZu/s1600/IMG_4799.jpg.jpg" height="358" width="640" /></a></div>
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So what with one thing and another my blog has had the shutters closed and the curtains drawn.</div>
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But.<div>
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Things are gradually returning to normal and I am slowly starting to sit back and take it easy. I expect to return 'full time' to my blog in the next week or so, but until then 'adieu', and in the meantime, please help yourself to a 'tarte framboise' (raspberry tart)...<div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08642768891794895642noreply@blogger.com40tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1636243284078640845.post-28876851165384627482014-03-04T13:15:00.001-08:002014-03-05T09:44:49.308-08:00Shrove TuesdayThis weekend saw the first clumps of violets appearing in our area. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYs8Eu1WdJqtNhOz6PMVswx69oPM8JHLF1yhU3q26xKfoxA85AiZz2bPnQFuUBVm0Ts38GrRvYxJctCqC9JKJ_Gx6vlXNxBVEPDvbQeBpwg_Qmkcwx9prlWQYVOPEQ3kUJT9eeK5o8eRNB/s1600/IMG_2543.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYs8Eu1WdJqtNhOz6PMVswx69oPM8JHLF1yhU3q26xKfoxA85AiZz2bPnQFuUBVm0Ts38GrRvYxJctCqC9JKJ_Gx6vlXNxBVEPDvbQeBpwg_Qmkcwx9prlWQYVOPEQ3kUJT9eeK5o8eRNB/s1600/IMG_2543.jpg" height="640" width="478" /></a></div>
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The sight of violets (and snowdrops) gladdens my heart because for me, this means that Spring is on the march. <br />
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A lovely vase of daffodils now resides in our sittingroom, courtesy of the flower shop near the tram station, which is suddenly filled with all sorts of flowers:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnvM_l0aB3_mq5h9OPi4T9ch6eW8F-0q-Uwav0lqm1HWaBrqyBr9kHAn2YnNnkeR6J9uazQIjPqX_YRFEFa-rhqXL6a6YQyvl-tIIOGCBt1sOrW2yQVG-K0rGSaCFO9wOBaCSWF5Z0nRbo/s1600/IMG_2562.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnvM_l0aB3_mq5h9OPi4T9ch6eW8F-0q-Uwav0lqm1HWaBrqyBr9kHAn2YnNnkeR6J9uazQIjPqX_YRFEFa-rhqXL6a6YQyvl-tIIOGCBt1sOrW2yQVG-K0rGSaCFO9wOBaCSWF5Z0nRbo/s1600/IMG_2562.jpg" height="640" width="478" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinmqGThe-l6D0LGuOpcJwQi7Jtz5Bq35P5fhyIbnqIKb4xrF6WNWrBlFOPNSKFLvPNcFcmiFfZlhxp9v7SqvdD9J06qwSOfIFGghYGEB4wXVNr3UpAUu-3_ZRhyaa9hBGBtTVHN-_Ombe8/s1600/IMG_2563.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinmqGThe-l6D0LGuOpcJwQi7Jtz5Bq35P5fhyIbnqIKb4xrF6WNWrBlFOPNSKFLvPNcFcmiFfZlhxp9v7SqvdD9J06qwSOfIFGghYGEB4wXVNr3UpAUu-3_ZRhyaa9hBGBtTVHN-_Ombe8/s1600/IMG_2563.jpg" height="640" width="478" /></a></div>
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Even the dandelions on the avenue are in full bloom and enjoying the sun!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8R8IcJlI5evvfkXPW_Pp26FuRcODiQ8uqv0SO__EEpX_xVdo41oiyNDQT5G5_3FpZYRXPZECvzqBGnaixxNBSTiUO2UchaTdtbKAhM1f_ZMczAyUiwOzUyGup44kCNy-DJ7ynWGYzdNBr/s1600/IMG_2570.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8R8IcJlI5evvfkXPW_Pp26FuRcODiQ8uqv0SO__EEpX_xVdo41oiyNDQT5G5_3FpZYRXPZECvzqBGnaixxNBSTiUO2UchaTdtbKAhM1f_ZMczAyUiwOzUyGup44kCNy-DJ7ynWGYzdNBr/s1600/IMG_2570.JPG" height="298" width="400" /></a></div>
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And to add to the general gaiety - it being the final day of Carnival - today is Shrove Tuesday: The one day in the year that my family eat pancakes…<br />
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The word 'Shrove' comes from the old word 'to shrive' or to confess. Today is the day to think over the things one is sorry for, that occurred during the year past. One will have the next six weeks of Lent that will follow, in which to think about them, say sorry for them, and prepare to try and be a better person. </div>
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Old customs and old traditions accompany this day, and what better way to prepare for tomorrow's Ash Wednesday fast - with which to begin the Lenten Season - than with a lovely plate of freshly made pancakes? After all, isn't Mardi Gras (Fat Tuesday) the other term for Shrove Tuesday?</div>
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Here is a fat delicious pancake being made ready in the pan:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUnapl9VE4rl7OsCEpjbS63rek_vfel_yVupeqbIkOJQKwOb_nMa16ZaOtn-jHWtgX0iwho5scw7LBZCX6IWlTY6wmJ0hmIhPx3AMePttGxH6FBtM19ZJdq9uJjttu6YuCtJrq_RYYMR_i/s1600/IMG_2572.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUnapl9VE4rl7OsCEpjbS63rek_vfel_yVupeqbIkOJQKwOb_nMa16ZaOtn-jHWtgX0iwho5scw7LBZCX6IWlTY6wmJ0hmIhPx3AMePttGxH6FBtM19ZJdq9uJjttu6YuCtJrq_RYYMR_i/s1600/IMG_2572.jpg" height="640" width="478" /></a></div>
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Now it sits on the plate, having had its first sprinkling of sugar and lemon juice:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpknM7BEEeJ835YPFE-4Xg6ltDYym4m5alsbpeoxzjDzMcWOvENoicPNllvcLyKvINRUS6e2IRFhH0XQNNkEul56sir-jcyliIHuUR9Wv3EtqNURDKmruyctEr8OkwnNphTwtn5juxiWcs/s1600/IMG_2573.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpknM7BEEeJ835YPFE-4Xg6ltDYym4m5alsbpeoxzjDzMcWOvENoicPNllvcLyKvINRUS6e2IRFhH0XQNNkEul56sir-jcyliIHuUR9Wv3EtqNURDKmruyctEr8OkwnNphTwtn5juxiWcs/s1600/IMG_2573.jpg" height="640" width="478" /></a></div>
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Then it is rolled up, covered with more lemon juice and more sugar.<br />
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Eat them while they are hot!!<br />
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Do you eat pancakes on this day? <br />
(Or any other day?)<br />
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How do you like them? <br />
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I am a lemon and sugar person myself whereas AGA likes his drizzled over with honey. I had a great aunt who ate them with sour cream and caviar…<br />
Some people like their pancakes with Nutella and a friend of mine eats vegan pancakes - no eggs but a couple of teaspoons of baking powder is mixed into the batter.<br />
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What about you?Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08642768891794895642noreply@blogger.com30tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1636243284078640845.post-89459636763361366522014-02-19T15:12:00.002-08:002014-02-19T15:13:50.569-08:00At large in London.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
We are in London at the moment: On a St Valentine's Day/Week holiday. The weather hasn't been too bad and the flooding in surrounding areas has subsided somewhat. All is dry in London. </div>
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We lunched with AGA's niece the other day and tomorrow we breakfast with a cousin of mine. For the rest it is just us two, enjoying life.</div>
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The other day we happened across a parade inspection of the guards of the Household Cavalry:</div>
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(They are in their winter uniform).</div>
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And we visited the Museum of Gardening at Lambeth:</div>
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The museum is set up in the old St Mary-at-Lambeth church, on the right of the gatehouse of Lambeth Palace.</div>
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<span style="text-align: center;">In the gardens at the rear of the church, we saw the tomb of Vice Admiral William Bligh; he of the Mutiny on the Bounty fame, as well being a one time Governor of New South Wales:</span></div>
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The famous plant hunters, John Tradescant Senior and Junior are also buried here.</div>
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And we also came across this cheery Lambeth robin, busy in nest-building mode:</div>
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I do like robins. They are such cheerful, friendly birds. This one posed for a long time so I could 'get' my photo...<br />
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That's all for the moment as I am writing this 'on the hoof' so to speak.<br />
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I hope you enjoyed this post, coming to you from the heart of Hammersmith!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08642768891794895642noreply@blogger.com29tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1636243284078640845.post-30702230108099645142014-02-09T13:21:00.000-08:002014-02-09T13:21:14.797-08:00The City of Love<div style="text-align: justify;">
There are many cities that have been have been called the 'City of Love'. </div>
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Paris is one that springs readily to mind. </div>
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But then Rome, Prague, and Vienna have been given that title. </div>
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Now I see that Glasgow wants to reinvent itself and become Scotland's City of Love…</div>
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And then there is Venice.</div>
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Venice: With it's colourful history, it's masques and gondolas, it's carnival celebrations, and canals both large and small.</div>
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Red-haired Antonio Vivaldi called Venice home. So did the composer Albinoni and the artist Tiepolo.</div>
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Venice. A city that seems not quite European and not quite 'Oriental' but something in between. A child of east and west. </div>
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In his 1767 Gazetteer, the English writer, Dr, Richard Brookes write simply that Venice is 'superb', and I agree. </div>
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I love going to Venice and have been fortunate enough to go there several times with AGA for extended periods.</div>
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So, here is my Valentine's Day present to you: Grab your hats and come with me on a tour to this magical and romantic city…</div>
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Venice is a city of canals. </div>
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Some large:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjHdAUKWdCreWkd2faC8Xx7fj-JSw48rNEx8YHZLADdEfbR8fBkNiozivdVZj5sn2CcLNRZGbRFVOD0nQNEEWR2Pf4k7ar778t20AWWP65HGPL-ALoqbkEJjUtgEItN6yGBtg283jGznFC/s1600/IMG_9712.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjHdAUKWdCreWkd2faC8Xx7fj-JSw48rNEx8YHZLADdEfbR8fBkNiozivdVZj5sn2CcLNRZGbRFVOD0nQNEEWR2Pf4k7ar778t20AWWP65HGPL-ALoqbkEJjUtgEItN6yGBtg283jGznFC/s1600/IMG_9712.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a></div>
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And some small:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAE_WQN1cKABEStLP1asvF3Sk53llDgWuy8vADT5Pn7KM2GQZFl2ScbYBEQm56QEoDa78ReSkdAFZtGDJ5tg7C7013XdAmoeBbXveJC55pWRervBexuOBjlnxbx-t_V02wQ3FEATSUtlIx/s1600/IMG_1902.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAE_WQN1cKABEStLP1asvF3Sk53llDgWuy8vADT5Pn7KM2GQZFl2ScbYBEQm56QEoDa78ReSkdAFZtGDJ5tg7C7013XdAmoeBbXveJC55pWRervBexuOBjlnxbx-t_V02wQ3FEATSUtlIx/s1600/IMG_1902.JPG" height="640" width="480" /></a></div>
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But all have a certain something about them. A magic that I don't think could be replicated elsewhere:<br />
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And bridges: Everywhere there are little humped back bridges:</div>
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Look at this: You could have been transported back 500 years:</div>
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In some parts, the city seems to float upon the waters:</div>
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And then there is the lagoon which surrounds the islands upon which Venice stands:</div>
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Wonderful both in the daylight. . .</div>
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. . . and in the evening.</div>
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Of course, Venice isn't only canals. Does the absence of cars add to Venice's air of romance?</div>
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Or is it the wonderful St Mark's Square?</div>
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I love the domes of St Mark's. There is a sumptuousness about them that remind me of a Caliph's turban:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdIhrtcv6raHrHEoafbY05SlcauMer0HpbJNoOO4OdIVH_-GXAUPhly0yhAE5L9D0Dtt3OjcJWHq40mvXnPoDvsy-R587MSCiakIKnrxYEkFmUiJKgtJPtgvrpflxpYY1YfpvGzfWoyZxj/s1600/IMG_1916.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdIhrtcv6raHrHEoafbY05SlcauMer0HpbJNoOO4OdIVH_-GXAUPhly0yhAE5L9D0Dtt3OjcJWHq40mvXnPoDvsy-R587MSCiakIKnrxYEkFmUiJKgtJPtgvrpflxpYY1YfpvGzfWoyZxj/s1600/IMG_1916.JPG" height="640" width="480" /></a></div>
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And the interior takes one's breath away:</div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">(One isn't permitted to take photos within St Mark's and I took this one not realizing the fact but the guard kindly said that I did not have to delete the one I had taken.)</span></div>
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Standing in St Mark's Square one is surrounded by history.</div>
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Here are 'The Four Tetrarchs' (taken from Byzantium and placed here) on the corner of St Mark's Basilica. I like the fact that they are hugging in friendship with one hand while the other hand firmly grasps a sword.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9Wg9j8c8cQjZAHOtB554vtx7zdXcwu5VL2oQabyo0eU0Zke4Rcf7764ZKkfnCTeCmViyzyTyS3-konWgYo02aoGnwXIE8Q6bf1ANc_vfoXDarwO253AhWSQHXuSmf-T0cmatH_es_tRde/s1600/IMG_1984.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9Wg9j8c8cQjZAHOtB554vtx7zdXcwu5VL2oQabyo0eU0Zke4Rcf7764ZKkfnCTeCmViyzyTyS3-konWgYo02aoGnwXIE8Q6bf1ANc_vfoXDarwO253AhWSQHXuSmf-T0cmatH_es_tRde/s1600/IMG_1984.JPG" height="640" width="480" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">(You can see that part of the far right foot is missing and has been replaced. I have seen part of the missing foot in the Archeaological museum in Istanbul)</span></div>
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Here is one of the entrances to the Doges' Palace:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXcGNxt2Ly-_vljIo84eygavK33vOBjPFB4sd3936InSnps1aHFGJpAoH1AWWKa8Hpr6ZD7xAnA2PQqadYyu5RTTPCze6InuyOxgLkuRNL9yBSmqk4PKmswq56XJo1sWE7MFhNiTgZHuZ4/s1600/IMG_1986.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXcGNxt2Ly-_vljIo84eygavK33vOBjPFB4sd3936InSnps1aHFGJpAoH1AWWKa8Hpr6ZD7xAnA2PQqadYyu5RTTPCze6InuyOxgLkuRNL9yBSmqk4PKmswq56XJo1sWE7MFhNiTgZHuZ4/s1600/IMG_1986.JPG" height="640" width="480" /></a></div>
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The remains of the evangelist St Mark are buried within the Basilica and his symbol (the winged Lion) is everywhere.</div>
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I stood with my back to the portal of St Mark's Basilica to take this photograph:</div>
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That tower is the Campanile (the Bell Tower). it was rebuilt after collapsing in 1902. The flag is the flag of Venice.</div>
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Here is another view for you, in the late afternoon sun:</div>
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Of course there are other famous landmarks such as the: the Rialto Bridge, the Bridge of Sighs, the Ca' d'Oro, and the interior of the Doges' Palace itself; but I think that I prefer to end this little tour by showing you some less well known things that make me love this city so much:</div>
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<span style="text-align: center;">The unexpected views one gets while walking through the narrow lane ways:</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1UdYqADAjPl6pSZmhHMJhPfM8LszeZ2g1kEK_3f-UqeqwtkKhtbNlkei3Y-OTTKdITPGP2XwH2FbQB-vA-RMEwc-UL33MntDat2yycRdinzjwKJz58W9WkseiDo1x-mdaU8KSKNx2Wdf_/s1600/IMG_1939.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1UdYqADAjPl6pSZmhHMJhPfM8LszeZ2g1kEK_3f-UqeqwtkKhtbNlkei3Y-OTTKdITPGP2XwH2FbQB-vA-RMEwc-UL33MntDat2yycRdinzjwKJz58W9WkseiDo1x-mdaU8KSKNx2Wdf_/s1600/IMG_1939.JPG" height="640" width="480" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1zvh5zCAg0htgt9KUpKZop772J7exFWbIkfbwAbN1XCRB_2ubu5cfrXZNRUG1rggvZKwvDZwDCxdZKcoPt5ntwBLfoe3h-gfD-s33U0r2Vv3s-gbFacy7WU2PLsOqoWNm6q2KWJTKzQAy/s1600/IMG_9691.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1zvh5zCAg0htgt9KUpKZop772J7exFWbIkfbwAbN1XCRB_2ubu5cfrXZNRUG1rggvZKwvDZwDCxdZKcoPt5ntwBLfoe3h-gfD-s33U0r2Vv3s-gbFacy7WU2PLsOqoWNm6q2KWJTKzQAy/s1600/IMG_9691.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a></div>
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This painting on the underside of the Rialto Bridge:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQBK1vQNiHtZT8UxGoTmNzqJIq77inRN14b66AbOjeQhgjiMNRl07GB6vTsjFbCjHEQ9tA4BeM-hWLfJt7sbcHRPQiyM28cRHCF8tB8E3Aabs8GT2J_DDh0xjUj0yicHoGZm1pW4WKRKWD/s1600/IMG_2008.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQBK1vQNiHtZT8UxGoTmNzqJIq77inRN14b66AbOjeQhgjiMNRl07GB6vTsjFbCjHEQ9tA4BeM-hWLfJt7sbcHRPQiyM28cRHCF8tB8E3Aabs8GT2J_DDh0xjUj0yicHoGZm1pW4WKRKWD/s1600/IMG_2008.JPG" height="640" width="480" /></a></div>
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Pigeons. Pigeons are everywhere!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFEwVaRO2EwtWBltJqWSW4HEeIC0IDybrixlHT9a5NAjAFxEyBuT4MPU7rOtptxBXcbOqo0WfEI4NfF5nVfSanAEfexmrllKTwmunmbmuDZgTDZatUjLjUIJYkmfDE9hIFXpvpjG7uREo5/s1600/IMG_1908.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFEwVaRO2EwtWBltJqWSW4HEeIC0IDybrixlHT9a5NAjAFxEyBuT4MPU7rOtptxBXcbOqo0WfEI4NfF5nVfSanAEfexmrllKTwmunmbmuDZgTDZatUjLjUIJYkmfDE9hIFXpvpjG7uREo5/s1600/IMG_1908.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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The shops selling glassware:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK5-dpoi8loW5yeGLJhJN8ORjg_LuO-AXmeoZq8au9TxQAkn0QlM_eWy_ZonrYgWkPgjbeX-FlYHr8IdRnvf2pdmjZL0eVWJfl3eYqfVUzzy7LpDCvaFJvHitubg7P3WYrKynD7QUg8tf2/s1600/IMG_1922.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK5-dpoi8loW5yeGLJhJN8ORjg_LuO-AXmeoZq8au9TxQAkn0QlM_eWy_ZonrYgWkPgjbeX-FlYHr8IdRnvf2pdmjZL0eVWJfl3eYqfVUzzy7LpDCvaFJvHitubg7P3WYrKynD7QUg8tf2/s1600/IMG_1922.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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And lanterns:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuvFr8vTeEjEHD5P8XqbFr1-RZnSWZT_gdS0JaUDw07KxKAL39u06eV0ErY3pukVdZBYO54y72ni_K1sh5Z4cXbuPx7m1BBKXw2iNeEwnvGAmZsJ_ZKl-u1FXu2aPElfp6ipyhH3EM84aj/s1600/IMG_2020.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuvFr8vTeEjEHD5P8XqbFr1-RZnSWZT_gdS0JaUDw07KxKAL39u06eV0ErY3pukVdZBYO54y72ni_K1sh5Z4cXbuPx7m1BBKXw2iNeEwnvGAmZsJ_ZKl-u1FXu2aPElfp6ipyhH3EM84aj/s1600/IMG_2020.JPG" height="640" width="480" /></a></div>
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The various devotional statues and small shrines in the streets:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisSS3gEbMqGvfcZ6WQ8KRwslnJPZFZDJSrYITJYEUmMyHzzqBTDqwq47e4zc3yN2W3b8rJiSBiwP3Qm-n0sxz9MVxlcAUkAKeKXWR5UOoILggh6PiyVePi12HH-EOTL2QZW_pW8pi4Hmz_/s1600/IMG_1930.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisSS3gEbMqGvfcZ6WQ8KRwslnJPZFZDJSrYITJYEUmMyHzzqBTDqwq47e4zc3yN2W3b8rJiSBiwP3Qm-n0sxz9MVxlcAUkAKeKXWR5UOoILggh6PiyVePi12HH-EOTL2QZW_pW8pi4Hmz_/s1600/IMG_1930.JPG" height="640" width="480" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgayGBal5AY3lko9peTCCPqhoxzc-VDy3zpToLCf7tlS9a9-e6262ys2xoqN2bSrgIVhsq7tYmLZDSAAA-03vM9I-rNneZtdOJJOkIwsXaEjOyPp49hxdYKUBw1TcRvPcq83Y80bw51Mea/s1600/IMG_1932.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgayGBal5AY3lko9peTCCPqhoxzc-VDy3zpToLCf7tlS9a9-e6262ys2xoqN2bSrgIVhsq7tYmLZDSAAA-03vM9I-rNneZtdOJJOkIwsXaEjOyPp49hxdYKUBw1TcRvPcq83Y80bw51Mea/s1600/IMG_1932.JPG" height="640" width="480" /></a></div>
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Window grills:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtaP1y8n5RJd4ukzSGG081K5SEmu0wcSf6VfNRd80wMTXN7FP-XTjBk-YeloFGj8NGEJlhyphenhyphenO48cka4NQdJItbuOTHZNdcynoRjurrJmNg-9_yZiLH6buwgCfEo8YYI2Z_xsvx9hqFU7Xms/s1600/IMG_1933.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtaP1y8n5RJd4ukzSGG081K5SEmu0wcSf6VfNRd80wMTXN7FP-XTjBk-YeloFGj8NGEJlhyphenhyphenO48cka4NQdJItbuOTHZNdcynoRjurrJmNg-9_yZiLH6buwgCfEo8YYI2Z_xsvx9hqFU7Xms/s1600/IMG_1933.JPG" height="640" width="480" /></a></div>
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Statuary:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWWSWR3EligyGI8NzLScwPwfiTPGPde76TN9_sLd-qvhXmP1FggcE8xoyRA7lDFIsvyOzE_NdiemieU4Wo1Pn24ykGOPpvPD0sknzhwB7ZWfK1CEJ6fSIOtXwoNFn7ZtVNZvAlVOr0L1c9/s1600/IMG_1988.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWWSWR3EligyGI8NzLScwPwfiTPGPde76TN9_sLd-qvhXmP1FggcE8xoyRA7lDFIsvyOzE_NdiemieU4Wo1Pn24ykGOPpvPD0sknzhwB7ZWfK1CEJ6fSIOtXwoNFn7ZtVNZvAlVOr0L1c9/s1600/IMG_1988.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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The lions heads on the doors into St Mark's Basilica:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW90TNG-W2EnKMEjtJ0eUs8Kerk5p1ivZhlHCGWeb838yEyr4R_sCDZoW98ahRdsCcx8HDb32MSx8SQxkpCqBnkdkGsaHO6FymWentyL97H9iOVzyCEJNHaIgHOcyo1EZ8kT6ugT4x-xA9/s1600/IMG_1992.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW90TNG-W2EnKMEjtJ0eUs8Kerk5p1ivZhlHCGWeb838yEyr4R_sCDZoW98ahRdsCcx8HDb32MSx8SQxkpCqBnkdkGsaHO6FymWentyL97H9iOVzyCEJNHaIgHOcyo1EZ8kT6ugT4x-xA9/s1600/IMG_1992.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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The Churches:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHWHZ6GaWFv9-q21NG0yH-f3X6HUgCX2PeaY_iX_zcfN5JihKoNi_oFlh0IDPMRtNeqhtDR1oT2elKv8FSFSLogH_8IzHSdYSN5J22nTrC_wP_34yR-6lxTEhYzsN46jnIOevh0lEyI_Je/s1600/IMG_2000.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHWHZ6GaWFv9-q21NG0yH-f3X6HUgCX2PeaY_iX_zcfN5JihKoNi_oFlh0IDPMRtNeqhtDR1oT2elKv8FSFSLogH_8IzHSdYSN5J22nTrC_wP_34yR-6lxTEhYzsN46jnIOevh0lEyI_Je/s1600/IMG_2000.JPG" height="640" width="480" /></a></div>
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And their sumptuous Interiors:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeKk4b9T4WhEooZqRH01oyt101ja1iSs84Yn3y2GdIps31RijTN8AXP5J8WRnIUANomPXeqzCpaj9QPSr2m6kmBpDojQ0Zk1URiJVkh84asvi0uU2EP00x8q_KSxW0xRpNWZi2PYNYEcSl/s1600/IMG_2001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeKk4b9T4WhEooZqRH01oyt101ja1iSs84Yn3y2GdIps31RijTN8AXP5J8WRnIUANomPXeqzCpaj9QPSr2m6kmBpDojQ0Zk1URiJVkh84asvi0uU2EP00x8q_KSxW0xRpNWZi2PYNYEcSl/s1600/IMG_2001.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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Marzipan fruits:<br />
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<br />
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The Statue of the Winged Lion of St Mark, in St Mark's Square:</div>
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<br />
The pink tinted glass of the street lanterns:<br />
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<br />
The unexpected treasure to be stumbled upon without knowing they were there:<br />
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<br />
Watching the gondolas in the narrow canals:<br />
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<br />
This impromptu Tango exhibition by the local tango club one summer's evening:<br />
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<br />
And the fact that I was able to introduce my nephew and niece to this wonderful place!<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">(W is being a typical teenager. A is being a typical princess with her fancy straw hat!)</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I hope you enjoyed this little tour of Venice. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Have you been there? </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
If you did, do you have a special memory? </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
If you haven't been there yet, is there something that you would especially like to see?</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08642768891794895642noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1636243284078640845.post-20092399965773767682014-02-02T11:43:00.003-08:002014-02-05T11:35:22.820-08:00The Chancellor, his Soul, His Wife, and the Hospital.<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
Nicolas
Rolin was a man of some importance in the 15<sup>th</sup> Century.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
Born at Autun into an upwardly mobile family (his birthplace is now a museum), he became a lawyer in
Paris, and from there rose to become the Chancellor of Burgundy, and right-hand man
to the reigning Duke (Philip the Good).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
Very
much the far-sighted politician, he helped Duke Philip steer Burgundy through the final, particularly dangerous
period of the Hundred Years War, remaining allies with England despite the sudden death of Henry V, and then changing sides to join the French
after the victories of St. Jeanne d’Arc.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br />
Nicolas was a clever man.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
A
wily man.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
A
cunning and sometimes duplicitous man.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
And
as time passed, a very wealthy man.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<o:p><br /></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<o:p>(Here he is in about 1435 when aged about sixty) in a detail from the painting 'The Virgin with the Chancellor Rolin' by Jan van Eyck)</o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<o:p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXE5OjIJzAAwtmr4sl2asAJ9Jyb5bZQolcFJbCk_cmJM9t7a_tbLaL07oKTKPjQ_1tIur7meFiljI3Ew2h5SStXuV0fF3awprjOPHBoX_7B4J8v5TI25_PZUxcGrR5hqnYLFgWf9psSc4I/s1600/800px-Jan_van_Eyck_071.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXE5OjIJzAAwtmr4sl2asAJ9Jyb5bZQolcFJbCk_cmJM9t7a_tbLaL07oKTKPjQ_1tIur7meFiljI3Ew2h5SStXuV0fF3awprjOPHBoX_7B4J8v5TI25_PZUxcGrR5hqnYLFgWf9psSc4I/s1600/800px-Jan_van_Eyck_071.jpg" height="368" width="640" /></a> </o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-size: x-small; text-align: center;"> http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Jan_van_Eyck_071.jpg</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
He was at the peak of his career.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
He
had three sons to carry on the family name.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> He had plenty of money and property</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
Twice
widowed, he was now married to wife number three and all was right with the
world.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p><br />
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">He was content.</span><br />
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">Or was he?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
Something
was wrong.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
Something
continually jogged his conscience and it was his wife who made him realise what
it was: the state of his Soul.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
He began to wonder what would become of him when he died.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
After
all, he was in his sixties and thus already an old man.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He could die at
any time!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
How
would God view him and his life?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
He
did not want, as Jacob Marley did, to look back upon his life when it was too late
and realise that:<br />
<br />
“Mankind was my business. The common welfare was my business; charity, mercy, forbearance, and
benevolence were all my business!”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">(A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens)</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br />
In
this belief he was spurred on by his pious wife, Guigone de Salins.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> She had been fearful for the state of his soul for some time now.</span><br />
Yes, they were fabulously wealthy, but Nicolas had
thus far done very little in the ways of charity.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Of course he gave alms but was it
enough?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> Every one did the same.</span><br />
Could he stand up on Judgement
Day and say with all honesty that he had done his best to help those less
fortunate?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
He knew that the answer was a
resounding ‘NO’!<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoVTkSpw471szojnEQz00YHl-RnLbT-ENEHrEL9HdR-vPcl6iCeTGd55RAyBI3Mi7A91vYpBnxCjMgbzR5dBQdDtORWEmDGgcHtKjIRKhFzbQko8zKap8XQzqKu4cFbojZZ-t1bu8GreWX/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-02-02+at+7.59.36+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoVTkSpw471szojnEQz00YHl-RnLbT-ENEHrEL9HdR-vPcl6iCeTGd55RAyBI3Mi7A91vYpBnxCjMgbzR5dBQdDtORWEmDGgcHtKjIRKhFzbQko8zKap8XQzqKu4cFbojZZ-t1bu8GreWX/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-02-02+at+7.59.36+PM.png" height="640" width="372" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">http://fr.wikipedia.org/wiki/Guigone_de_Salins</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
He thought about the world and the state that Burgundy, and indeed much of France, was now in. The end of the wars had bought more trouble than peace. <br />
The fabric of social life had been rent asunder.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
Neighbour was suspicious of neighbour.<br />
The ill and destitute were left uncared for.<br />
Villages and even town were in ruins.<br />
People were homeless.<br />
Bands of unwanted and
unpaid mercenaries, unable to get home, and angry at having been short changed, roamed
the countryside, intent on pillage and rapine. . . and as if that wasn’t
enough, plague had broken out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
Refugees
from the countryside were pouring into cities and major towns to seek relief.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<span style="text-align: justify;"><br /></span>
<span style="text-align: justify;">Suddenly
Nicolas saw the way forward. He knew
exactly what to do: He would save his soul by feeding the pour, clothing the
naked and looking after the sick.</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br />
Having
made his decision, he discussed it with his wife and together they set to with
a good will.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
Nicolas
decided to create a permanent base from which his newfound charitable side
would operate.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
The
town of Beaune was not too far distant (as the crow flies) from his own home
town of Autun, and having heard that it was having a very hard time of it in the
aftermath of the war, he decided to set up shop there.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
Ever
the entrepreneurial businessman, he planned everything down to the smallest detail: The interior, the exterior, the furnishings - everything.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If he was going to plough a fair amount of
his vast wealth into this project then it had better be done correctly: He was not about to throw his money away.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
Having
first asked the Pope for permission to begin a charitable
organisation, he purchased a large piece of land next to the market place
at Beaune.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The beauty of this spot was
that a stream ran along side of it. It was Saturday 20 January 1442 and the
Hôtel-Dieu (God’s Hospital), a hospice for the sick and the infirm, can be said to have been born.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<o:p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsZugZyXnZ3MFRWHnIbDfzJPHq9RN1VG_omTuMbtMyVXIt7mcJ80a9bA43DTVbfjw27SVN4JrwXsGIeflFcnXH5FzH1fO-PxD7YO5P_ody22NfX2blXXQf3BjUfHruReqN7W59bp6KHiW7/s1600/IMG_2538.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsZugZyXnZ3MFRWHnIbDfzJPHq9RN1VG_omTuMbtMyVXIt7mcJ80a9bA43DTVbfjw27SVN4JrwXsGIeflFcnXH5FzH1fO-PxD7YO5P_ody22NfX2blXXQf3BjUfHruReqN7W59bp6KHiW7/s1600/IMG_2538.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
Meanwhile
his wife (with the Pope’s permission) visited various religious communities to
see how they operated.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Rolins were
going to found their own religious order to run the operation but they needed
to see what worked and what didn’t.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span>
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">They soon decided upon a Benedictine model.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
Nicolas
envisioned his project to be a combination hospital, almshouse, and charity
centre.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One that would benefit the many
levels of poverty in the area and which, thanks to careful planning and
organisation, would be funded by ownership of various profitable
businesses.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As a result the Hôtel-Dieu
remains in operation to this very day (although houses in more modern buildings
nearby.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The old fifteenth
century complex is now a museum which anyone can visit.<o:p></o:p></div>
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So
let’s go and see it for ourselves!<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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The outer wall is fairly plain until one reaches the front entrance:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxFkfgqjPiL9QGFe-ghO2Moi78Wm_CFrdCOTOEZ7_KhNV7fWt7Qul_IhCDDorJBtom4RK2CcPkcIqOHw15Jz8gAqeQnyue9LA5P6PcOMimPz6CexgBH3DNdyo5apUTvNlwkTsa3coG2jEy/s1600/IMG_2539.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxFkfgqjPiL9QGFe-ghO2Moi78Wm_CFrdCOTOEZ7_KhNV7fWt7Qul_IhCDDorJBtom4RK2CcPkcIqOHw15Jz8gAqeQnyue9LA5P6PcOMimPz6CexgBH3DNdyo5apUTvNlwkTsa3coG2jEy/s1600/IMG_2539.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
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Once you walk into the Courtyard, everything changes:</div>
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<br /></div>
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One enters from the right (where those people are sitting)</div>
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<br /></div>
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The ornate roof is what 'lifts' the building and makes it stand out:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv9y4yNWYQLZevd2X-cjibAOmSu4UQSltuXjKqKA9kHm-V9Jqh1whUPbX64K9aRr7rADgbktRyAwP8vCi2fk8fJs67OzZtxCAFGZgFpUoqapLWJoVRpWdXYrWE8RXf0snkI1eUY5zTp3nc/s1600/IMG_1732.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv9y4yNWYQLZevd2X-cjibAOmSu4UQSltuXjKqKA9kHm-V9Jqh1whUPbX64K9aRr7rADgbktRyAwP8vCi2fk8fJs67OzZtxCAFGZgFpUoqapLWJoVRpWdXYrWE8RXf0snkI1eUY5zTp3nc/s1600/IMG_1732.jpg" height="640" width="478" /></a></div>
<br />
The tiles are glazed and the woodwork is ornately carved.<br />
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<br />
The plainer stone building is the 'Great Hall of the Poor':<br />
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<br />
The inside contains the beds that were in use for the sick up until the mid 20th Century:<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk6ZdoXLU2gR8zUhTkT86BgOyWmNP13L3t-i7uERDU6B6EzGFLYjMbirdyUtOxSgSgRUrqmkL-gxS4vuv4RLziXT8GqtscGYwG1kSQh1ge5to9snE59YZmA4BPuROZOthKM-vyzPczr-3A/s1600/IMG_1740.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk6ZdoXLU2gR8zUhTkT86BgOyWmNP13L3t-i7uERDU6B6EzGFLYjMbirdyUtOxSgSgRUrqmkL-gxS4vuv4RLziXT8GqtscGYwG1kSQh1ge5to9snE59YZmA4BPuROZOthKM-vyzPczr-3A/s1600/IMG_1740.JPG" height="478" width="640" /></a><br />
Each is numbered and had correspondingly numbered equipment, linen, blankets etc - all as per Nicolas' directions so that no bed was without its own things. Everything was numbered, even the plates the patients used.<br />
Windows were set up high so as to provide good ventilation.<br />
The beds run along both sides of the hall and are set away from the wall so that the intervening space (behind the curtains) between the bed and wall becomes a walkway so that a doctor could examine the patient in private, either before they got in bed or, once the front curtains were drawn, while they were in bed:<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIWmnkYHZ_rFOOLbbOx-oiMExzAW0E_Dicm598HhlpLfVpZV5LCOn-yny8PDAq7DxkHB42FEcXRp7fiwmsar2xqQ0bi8bX7ybb372Vvb_ygc6BFFADGNcIzFtDTzz0xZ_zGuj4J3B-Pgho/s1600/IMG_1742.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIWmnkYHZ_rFOOLbbOx-oiMExzAW0E_Dicm598HhlpLfVpZV5LCOn-yny8PDAq7DxkHB42FEcXRp7fiwmsar2xqQ0bi8bX7ybb372Vvb_ygc6BFFADGNcIzFtDTzz0xZ_zGuj4J3B-Pgho/s1600/IMG_1742.JPG" height="478" width="640" /></a><br />
This however was the 15th Century and the idea of personal space did not really exist: Thus each bed was made to contain two people.<br />
<br />
The roof of the Great Hall is like the inside hull of an upturned boat. It has been sympathetically restored:<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgndR7Gmab_1xKO7aRa_lGo2tJpvKTPp9CrMBDu0RsJWAV1ZVb5WaIfekcc79yPnFbHoJshAuGzIBp_dqduTGgNN1PtFWmC9KiT4P683-hQbvgtTb4EQFiy4agD-KgAi97k7f9bC0ScLlW/s1600/IMG_1741.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgndR7Gmab_1xKO7aRa_lGo2tJpvKTPp9CrMBDu0RsJWAV1ZVb5WaIfekcc79yPnFbHoJshAuGzIBp_dqduTGgNN1PtFWmC9KiT4P683-hQbvgtTb4EQFiy4agD-KgAi97k7f9bC0ScLlW/s1600/IMG_1741.JPG" height="478" width="640" /></a><br />
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Half of the Hall is a Chapel for the inmates and the nuns who cared for them:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicpojM8mnyrx118e_wGAiSVMelf-IJCic_Oo0o2tt7VU9fhFQ5DvnGS7usIlk4fDXLOGdqtRtyYqi093VqUBvvPlyh5q7bp8uwaZohGP8Abn6_yg6ZaHUoq3AHdIUrjt4T1ezv4shxEkvG/s1600/IMG_1736.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicpojM8mnyrx118e_wGAiSVMelf-IJCic_Oo0o2tt7VU9fhFQ5DvnGS7usIlk4fDXLOGdqtRtyYqi093VqUBvvPlyh5q7bp8uwaZohGP8Abn6_yg6ZaHUoq3AHdIUrjt4T1ezv4shxEkvG/s1600/IMG_1736.jpg" height="640" width="478" /></a></div>
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In prior times the tomb of Guigogne (who died in 1470) stood before the altar, but it was destroyed and her remains also destroyed, during the French Revolution. A plaque now marks the spot:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgqdNL98AgC3C6-Vxsd-qSRfG7PTN1x8LXvwu3PTTs3MAVmqJ7DM8RR9zlKXPfNa0Jpzk6BAe-tf2tbbU2yiF2-Ocz4kQ4NBs3ufvaCfpZcm-mjXMNHQME1z5xK_0DpP9h6C23P5iyqluA/s1600/IMG_1735.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgqdNL98AgC3C6-Vxsd-qSRfG7PTN1x8LXvwu3PTTs3MAVmqJ7DM8RR9zlKXPfNa0Jpzk6BAe-tf2tbbU2yiF2-Ocz4kQ4NBs3ufvaCfpZcm-mjXMNHQME1z5xK_0DpP9h6C23P5iyqluA/s1600/IMG_1735.JPG" height="478" width="640" /></a></div>
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The walls of the chapel are decorated and painted with the arms of the Rolin and the Salins families:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9FH4KrBdHIyA2ZyYQduqFLlJAg8VNnb4HjMxDGbJ5YPknqtIbZ3pDOBIzYuvrzSv9TURDECpaO4oi8wysov8bboeADN7k2XwpDKiJ4dlVruRJKTMd_c83bPZUrpRGW12Ft-WkI4G9IfiA/s1600/IMG_1739.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9FH4KrBdHIyA2ZyYQduqFLlJAg8VNnb4HjMxDGbJ5YPknqtIbZ3pDOBIzYuvrzSv9TURDECpaO4oi8wysov8bboeADN7k2XwpDKiJ4dlVruRJKTMd_c83bPZUrpRGW12Ft-WkI4G9IfiA/s1600/IMG_1739.jpg" height="640" width="478" /></a></div>
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Once out in the courtyard again, one can go in through that doorway in the far corner:<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_ZajNDfGnW5YQ3VAfdQq1CEbSheDStkvAASUqqgb2S3kxtDmWD38fE5p1j-Os9Hzdage5P9Cly7qJxa35LZah_S6Ssr6STqaer1sYGT_m_4MIH70v6u_J6pttrZSnSi0MMKI0DBTHaQbu/s1600/IMG_2493.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_ZajNDfGnW5YQ3VAfdQq1CEbSheDStkvAASUqqgb2S3kxtDmWD38fE5p1j-Os9Hzdage5P9Cly7qJxa35LZah_S6Ssr6STqaer1sYGT_m_4MIH70v6u_J6pttrZSnSi0MMKI0DBTHaQbu/s1600/IMG_2493.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a><br />
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This room was set aside for men, on the request of King Louis XIV who visited in 1658. My photo is unfortunately blurred but you can see how this chamber was laid out </div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnzt6uVsQP4qbLCTddJ57SSQ6Gw5SAVG3TaibIyn5Qqpqygmj08oUxjDYnr28GE-5yAEv_U-_hI0GNvBIEMspY8YVhyyKNyRLQvq9mxNsouTXthK6hAHx0_ZzwkMPU53CQc-FoXQAQK2Fe/s1600/IMG_1724.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnzt6uVsQP4qbLCTddJ57SSQ6Gw5SAVG3TaibIyn5Qqpqygmj08oUxjDYnr28GE-5yAEv_U-_hI0GNvBIEMspY8YVhyyKNyRLQvq9mxNsouTXthK6hAHx0_ZzwkMPU53CQc-FoXQAQK2Fe/s1600/IMG_1724.JPG" height="478" width="640" /></a><br />
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I think that it was originally a chapel. Mannequins are dressed in the habits of the nuns that used to tend the patients. On the table are various pieces of equipment used by the doctors.</div>
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A large chambers has been turned into an exhibition hall of sorts that shows the history of the place. Glazed wooden cabinets are set up with various displays. <br />
Medical equipment:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLVaohPO6kjDhS-hhycZhrk6UoutRmG2RDqxkMsOwLkWk2nwvCjQHUmXxBChLV7JY7ARg_YqjLtQv09hlCzQF8LLowRUvTmM55XiZk5ue537dIGdXqBa-scoE1SNCfifY_cV0PsEU5znLc/s1600/IMG_1727.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLVaohPO6kjDhS-hhycZhrk6UoutRmG2RDqxkMsOwLkWk2nwvCjQHUmXxBChLV7JY7ARg_YqjLtQv09hlCzQF8LLowRUvTmM55XiZk5ue537dIGdXqBa-scoE1SNCfifY_cV0PsEU5znLc/s1600/IMG_1727.jpg" height="640" width="478" /></a></div>
Architectural details:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWPgrF64OP325wjAA2gnQuKClPOeREG3xGAxpHowB5Dkwmo3X37Ve5mkyxLcLSrudef6-_7S1bHf9x6mclUUCPGH9YCvXHSiDCU3iswf_yGtoO1qVJlzkSiw7eZywAQFlO61PupqTIDQgu/s1600/IMG_1728.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWPgrF64OP325wjAA2gnQuKClPOeREG3xGAxpHowB5Dkwmo3X37Ve5mkyxLcLSrudef6-_7S1bHf9x6mclUUCPGH9YCvXHSiDCU3iswf_yGtoO1qVJlzkSiw7eZywAQFlO61PupqTIDQgu/s1600/IMG_1728.jpg" height="640" width="478" /></a></div>
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The next set of rooms contains the old Dispensary:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXOFzALDFUY9SeG3NgH36t8cP_az05TqvsqUyRkFe1NekgG5SekBYoByIohyphenhyphen8HSd2-74P385QF8aDjm2NEFNgAOLEKqIXB2QVdyguLyrQoKFXz2kTYXUopDKZNm4EhWLUbx08M43oNQ1qI/s1600/IMG_1744.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXOFzALDFUY9SeG3NgH36t8cP_az05TqvsqUyRkFe1NekgG5SekBYoByIohyphenhyphen8HSd2-74P385QF8aDjm2NEFNgAOLEKqIXB2QVdyguLyrQoKFXz2kTYXUopDKZNm4EhWLUbx08M43oNQ1qI/s1600/IMG_1744.JPG" height="477" width="640" /></a><span style="text-align: left;"></span></div>
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The painting shows Claude Morelot the institution's 18th Century apothecary.</div>
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There are some beautiful majolica jars and bottles. I would love to have some of these:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_ihVTMTYPFJIYqHDfpdFTiBs8fUNh29cXil3JI-x4DqI0cGaHyLCjNVeujogRLwX2lh2VU993eovZcfdfu3KD_mXuDV-a9CO-SqJdidox4YpfOBbbJmtW6rFSbu9-6BbebncIe34AV_oC/s1600/IMG_1745.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_ihVTMTYPFJIYqHDfpdFTiBs8fUNh29cXil3JI-x4DqI0cGaHyLCjNVeujogRLwX2lh2VU993eovZcfdfu3KD_mXuDV-a9CO-SqJdidox4YpfOBbbJmtW6rFSbu9-6BbebncIe34AV_oC/s1600/IMG_1745.jpg" height="640" width="477" /></a></div>
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There are cabinets to store the various ingredients to be used in medicines:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgreOVUjRqojPlI4pbBH5b1uePRKGi4m6NkgI7tLs_zwcJfFMXmVGQfQOi61TUowGZX7kLWR9u0zeHvVHo8R-OsT5qSlu2uRUT5emxzYHJe3rtUu-42XljXaKFGJhP6kTqVHvM81RJTY4FN/s1600/IMG_1748.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgreOVUjRqojPlI4pbBH5b1uePRKGi4m6NkgI7tLs_zwcJfFMXmVGQfQOi61TUowGZX7kLWR9u0zeHvVHo8R-OsT5qSlu2uRUT5emxzYHJe3rtUu-42XljXaKFGJhP6kTqVHvM81RJTY4FN/s1600/IMG_1748.JPG" height="477" width="640" /></a></div>
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And then there are the kitchens:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0D1VaG5mmw65VqVRbRZCUWO7r-6Fu88FKOxEMZQEQYixOy0WsbxklL0obg1-NvAdQ3oOsHTSa_0Xzi7tZK7e2cXRiAFSSlkxRafqY68xsH1QevDDT9cTXNz_7UDXrPU0sOsC3V-k6rQhq/s1600/IMG_1730.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0D1VaG5mmw65VqVRbRZCUWO7r-6Fu88FKOxEMZQEQYixOy0WsbxklL0obg1-NvAdQ3oOsHTSa_0Xzi7tZK7e2cXRiAFSSlkxRafqY68xsH1QevDDT9cTXNz_7UDXrPU0sOsC3V-k6rQhq/s1600/IMG_1730.jpg" height="640" width="477" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipJ-e7FHhJeffdXjzzUierVjrvvdT4YwpQCWVgg6z_DjhgSkfSMX-IegOds4yqanEryhnFNAHeY7v8Gg0FJsM10Et0JEXQ9jNVgQYzIfYx7Fl3YtmMTPSmQhCcIWXXgpl5jQPHhZFWpd_R/s1600/IMG_1731.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipJ-e7FHhJeffdXjzzUierVjrvvdT4YwpQCWVgg6z_DjhgSkfSMX-IegOds4yqanEryhnFNAHeY7v8Gg0FJsM10Et0JEXQ9jNVgQYzIfYx7Fl3YtmMTPSmQhCcIWXXgpl5jQPHhZFWpd_R/s1600/IMG_1731.jpg" height="640" width="477" /></a></div>
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Food was prepared here not only for the nuns and the patients, but for those poor people who gathered outside each day for this was a charity centre and while it could not possibly house all those in need it could at least attempt to feed as many as possible.</div>
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The final set of rooms on view are those containing institution's treasures: Tapestries and spectacular paintings:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2I7SeW21QAH2JHSOgA6oYdXsaiPfQHihjxpi3uQeaoOn6ThUVNYj7Tfp0f5lt_B6ZcsBiCJeLRg9K6GuNk29C0qxJO_CKzs9AIENRPI_G68Ek-qBnVk1DbjlRixEgcnEx60LEA7bVtCAB/s1600/IMG_1749.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2I7SeW21QAH2JHSOgA6oYdXsaiPfQHihjxpi3uQeaoOn6ThUVNYj7Tfp0f5lt_B6ZcsBiCJeLRg9K6GuNk29C0qxJO_CKzs9AIENRPI_G68Ek-qBnVk1DbjlRixEgcnEx60LEA7bVtCAB/s1600/IMG_1749.jpg" height="640" width="477" /></a></div>
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Photography was not permitted in the room with the paintings but you could buy postcards (which I did) as a keepsake. Thanks however to Wikipedia I can show you the magnificent altar piece that is the star of the collection. It was painted by Roger van der Weyden during Nicolas' lifetime:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnvakR4H25ZB0s0tdw-5TAASkdxsjWbkRJG4kRPIyDSr_LRSNRBFVq0DuQ6iVYMn03q4awXn8YNNM5dkYWaHbhJEERMazgID7OfwQHS0EMbqqL-MYa6zymfJLUU0gmvInxTbxOifJyVpxF/s1600/Rogier_van_der_Weyden_001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnvakR4H25ZB0s0tdw-5TAASkdxsjWbkRJG4kRPIyDSr_LRSNRBFVq0DuQ6iVYMn03q4awXn8YNNM5dkYWaHbhJEERMazgID7OfwQHS0EMbqqL-MYa6zymfJLUU0gmvInxTbxOifJyVpxF/s1600/Rogier_van_der_Weyden_001.jpg" height="252" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Rogier_van_der_Weyden_001.jpg</span></div>
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Here is St Michael, weighing the souls of the dead:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDZijCve_K9mL7sLk4SjjMQVgv375ee__R7p_1QU0TJKieMGzDFDUECt1qeW_gLV2iRhuvtsGpFsP32uXJ8bsqc_7XVw9Lh6wUJjyieP75jgCmGlI-o7bD6uhF5xVJptvmPhG_Alel0WT3/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-02-02+at+7.14.12+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDZijCve_K9mL7sLk4SjjMQVgv375ee__R7p_1QU0TJKieMGzDFDUECt1qeW_gLV2iRhuvtsGpFsP32uXJ8bsqc_7XVw9Lh6wUJjyieP75jgCmGlI-o7bD6uhF5xVJptvmPhG_Alel0WT3/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-02-02+at+7.14.12+PM.png" height="435" width="640" /></a></div>
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Those found wanting go down to Hell:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWaAGolwOQAWICekUzVe6qtgmDpEyRh2KXYn1nQjGa6a_218PmgM6mMWTKleiTLHahGfyzrkoReY6Svif08CFb_ztXrJp4CjLBy2SbVwWzOtFbvc7rlynJn9T0YXeYjfWN4N2kZ1eG3r0l/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-02-02+at+7.14.36+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWaAGolwOQAWICekUzVe6qtgmDpEyRh2KXYn1nQjGa6a_218PmgM6mMWTKleiTLHahGfyzrkoReY6Svif08CFb_ztXrJp4CjLBy2SbVwWzOtFbvc7rlynJn9T0YXeYjfWN4N2kZ1eG3r0l/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-02-02+at+7.14.36+PM.png" height="400" width="274" /></a></div>
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Those found to be in good order go up to Heaven!:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisGdxMX-B1OXOwq6AWDiE8e8DLD0AAuSqLb7IDtdiDC-Lluu052x-0CxS9t4mcUa-gcAUmeDismJHXlWUD6K2UR1SGXgK9rMMHvJWWqOAadygE4Xh6Do31oo1nd06pC3tOePlHpN7UY2Ni/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-02-02+at+7.14.54+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisGdxMX-B1OXOwq6AWDiE8e8DLD0AAuSqLb7IDtdiDC-Lluu052x-0CxS9t4mcUa-gcAUmeDismJHXlWUD6K2UR1SGXgK9rMMHvJWWqOAadygE4Xh6Do31oo1nd06pC3tOePlHpN7UY2Ni/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-02-02+at+7.14.54+PM.png" height="400" width="172" /></a></div>
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The building of the hospital, together with the needs of the patients and sisters provided a huge economic boost to the people of Beaune. Of course it was going to take time to get everything in order. The budget blew out (I think we can all relate to this) and various hold ups meant that the completion of the building was behind schedule and not completed until the year 1451 but on the last day of the year (three and a half years later than originally planned for) the Hospital took in its first patient. Nicolas (now aged seventy-five) and Guigogne were on hand and and the mood was one of great optimism.</div>
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The Duke visited and was so amazed at what Nicolas had achieved that he granted the hospital various rights to free firewood. People began to leave bequests of money to the hospital in their Wills and when Nicolas noticed that the teacher he had employed to teach the nuns was far too strict with them, and with the sick, he fired her and busied himself with writing a Rule for the new order (the Hospital Sisters of Beaune) himself. In doing this he made compassion his watchword.</div>
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Nicolas Rolin died in 1462, aged eighty-six. There was some unpleasantness for the widowed Giugogne, when her stepson Cardinal Rolin (the local bishop) challenged the Hospital's rights of patronage; but the case was eventually decide in favor of the hospital and Guigogne decided to retire there, dying in 1470.</div>
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As I walked around the Hospital and saw and heard all that Nicolas had done I felt that the work had changed him. He had started out very much the hard-headed businessman, the wily politician, but engaged upon this enormous act of charity, he had become an exceptionally humane person - and that made me happy.</div>
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This is what you would see if the alter piece is closed. Nicolas and Guigogne at prayers:</div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Rogier_van_der_Weyden_-_The_Last_Judgment_Polyptych_(reverse_side)_-_WGA25626.jpg</span></div>
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I hope you enjoyed this little tour of the Hôtel-Dieu. Perhaps one day you will find yourself in Beaune and then you too can visit and see for yourself this glory of 15th Century Burgundy.</div>
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(I got my information from the beautiful guide book we bought there. I also used a wonderful little book called 'French Architecture' by Pierre Lavedan. I recommend it for anyone interested in such things)<br />
And if you want to know more and can read French then <a href="http://www.hospices-de-beaune.com/">here</a> is the Hospital's official website.<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08642768891794895642noreply@blogger.com34tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1636243284078640845.post-46793043371116043712014-01-19T22:27:00.000-08:002014-01-20T12:15:39.479-08:00Back in the saddle.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
It has been an exciting Christmas/New Year season for AGA and I. Time passes swiftly when one is having fun. </div>
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A few days before Christmas Day, we hired a car and motored down to Burgundy. We rented a self-catering cottage in a small village called 'Change'. This is in the midst of the vineyards and caves of Burgundy but of course, being winter, there were no luscious fields of bright green grapevines to be seen - just brownish sticks. </div>
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The cottage was beautiful:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGMDfsHnLG_NDzossQP6Tq9duSnDYGmn1kYgUljrDTPXoUxNDrkvnN92clnvKkw2ZLQcBmmzk3TD64sYHvtvV9aPCdBF1AKmTBoQYDAJWTcUoNt0QFuhdhHwkhOHN6GgFMU5FbGvO0LSua/s1600/IMG_1770.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGMDfsHnLG_NDzossQP6Tq9duSnDYGmn1kYgUljrDTPXoUxNDrkvnN92clnvKkw2ZLQcBmmzk3TD64sYHvtvV9aPCdBF1AKmTBoQYDAJWTcUoNt0QFuhdhHwkhOHN6GgFMU5FbGvO0LSua/s1600/IMG_1770.jpg" height="640" width="478" /></a></div>
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And contained a lovely old fireplace which we made full use of:</div>
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We ate plenty of nice food while we were on hols:<br />
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(If one is in Burgundy (Bourgogne) then one must have at least one meal of Boeuf Bourguignon)<br />
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We bought the food for our Christmas Day meal at the local market but I had made the cake in advance to take with us:<br />
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There was no snow, but plenty of rain:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNZ44xFHgHxVrEiXkHRxM5G9T2RQfpQqaz24nl47Q4YMw2moHpnE4qun0saFskS8Y72CD8zQiKj8SydlV9jNkTQLMq4rrpvMGU2ltVpYg1v3mlM1GTp8msbyMq8lp6Cb5D9EKp-cZJwmwG/s1600/IMG_1809.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNZ44xFHgHxVrEiXkHRxM5G9T2RQfpQqaz24nl47Q4YMw2moHpnE4qun0saFskS8Y72CD8zQiKj8SydlV9jNkTQLMq4rrpvMGU2ltVpYg1v3mlM1GTp8msbyMq8lp6Cb5D9EKp-cZJwmwG/s1600/IMG_1809.jpg" height="640" width="478" /></a></div>
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But when the grey clouds drifted away and the sun made its brief appearances, Change proved to be a lovely place, even in winter:<br />
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With lovely countryside:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnWfZF-Nt7TkwzrOITXEahJuGy6WcN-h9Dr5GxKSS75AYEhhaXhyxORvlQajjOTOxPaeotYzqK7pi5KDIT4ajDpXimTzQE9y5IAehfO5Nt6aPcCevbQNj_K-HCy6QShPgShMpiW7yJ4C0y/s1600/IMG_2664.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnWfZF-Nt7TkwzrOITXEahJuGy6WcN-h9Dr5GxKSS75AYEhhaXhyxORvlQajjOTOxPaeotYzqK7pi5KDIT4ajDpXimTzQE9y5IAehfO5Nt6aPcCevbQNj_K-HCy6QShPgShMpiW7yJ4C0y/s1600/IMG_2664.JPG" height="356" width="640" /></a></div>
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Change, is just down the road (and around the corner) from the market town of Beaune. A lovely town, home to the famous Hotel Dieu:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO-JbCJpdl6Qj6vVmoTcjfOKROg4-VaLz2NzBxsvQKBtpQEYMvUztiSiF_Mwxp3ekU0_5VyLEW28y4YS3Tw7JTeOSHf_gx5ZGZrqQQ7RWOFcY-QGNfar8GZJ3yo3RucknP04l68XYttKii/s1600/IMG_2493.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO-JbCJpdl6Qj6vVmoTcjfOKROg4-VaLz2NzBxsvQKBtpQEYMvUztiSiF_Mwxp3ekU0_5VyLEW28y4YS3Tw7JTeOSHf_gx5ZGZrqQQ7RWOFcY-QGNfar8GZJ3yo3RucknP04l68XYttKii/s1600/IMG_2493.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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In the opposite direction is Autun with its atmospheric cathedral:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis08la7hDjmEqDyeaeUFzfeKQ81GWJ4bHaEKLgD9Ujn-qpEXbIiGqjxR9wgXb33DODJGRcDE_MFkxR81Lm2lapq7ohmXFLG4YK-U1Zby0LVzoDrqKwpuEZooFs0_OmGEwwjEOSnHqJXtyr/s1600/IMG_1840.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis08la7hDjmEqDyeaeUFzfeKQ81GWJ4bHaEKLgD9Ujn-qpEXbIiGqjxR9wgXb33DODJGRcDE_MFkxR81Lm2lapq7ohmXFLG4YK-U1Zby0LVzoDrqKwpuEZooFs0_OmGEwwjEOSnHqJXtyr/s1600/IMG_1840.jpg" height="640" width="478" /></a></div>
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Medieval houses:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwYRnolyDJLwnrFou-oUAAno2Ixi-UK8mzp7DPyZbHsyickOnKcdsQtWcYpQyF1VDrw2QHRtAviduK8bj5G-z3NZeZ8GI2k942JsyEGgcQicnEhBYoxLw8yF1AR6cVmohbWh7cRtiqOxxd/s1600/IMG_2689.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwYRnolyDJLwnrFou-oUAAno2Ixi-UK8mzp7DPyZbHsyickOnKcdsQtWcYpQyF1VDrw2QHRtAviduK8bj5G-z3NZeZ8GI2k942JsyEGgcQicnEhBYoxLw8yF1AR6cVmohbWh7cRtiqOxxd/s1600/IMG_2689.JPG" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
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And various Roman ruins, including the so-called Temple of Janus:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxoUfPZ10KsG37tPnDZ-6f6xkG4XLgTmN5Jbs1Q-pAfr_TO5lOuRP6eXrUEK1FT-gNgkvTaBgufXwFnJv11tWOdRDogo4PeCbxXrazS_y9JyGPljDWmoBEKDbGQ8iFesUvNhb0838uf2oI/s1600/IMG_2756.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxoUfPZ10KsG37tPnDZ-6f6xkG4XLgTmN5Jbs1Q-pAfr_TO5lOuRP6eXrUEK1FT-gNgkvTaBgufXwFnJv11tWOdRDogo4PeCbxXrazS_y9JyGPljDWmoBEKDbGQ8iFesUvNhb0838uf2oI/s1600/IMG_2756.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a></div>
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and the largest still existing Roman Theatre in western Europe:<br />
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Although it was the Christmas Season and most places were closed, we were able to visit at least one chateau. In this case it was the Chateau de Sully:</div>
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(No photographs were allowed inside but I can you that it was lovely to walk around)</div>
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We also went to one of the most beautiful Romanesque Churches I have had the pleasure to visit: The Abbaye de St Philibert, at Tournus (the weather was starting to pick up a bit):<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8uav7qhnmEod66-CXgXvzjJHVei-VeBxJf_cf2oZuAHLcorcslNI1PaZ4eSOd8vbjiXhqhh0MRC3AXa4rgw0RiKnc1DQKuRHip5zBHJIlivnWZR4m4-7ijLR6JRlPj3YV3Mn9Y2YEUdpc/s1600/IMG_1962.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8uav7qhnmEod66-CXgXvzjJHVei-VeBxJf_cf2oZuAHLcorcslNI1PaZ4eSOd8vbjiXhqhh0MRC3AXa4rgw0RiKnc1DQKuRHip5zBHJIlivnWZR4m4-7ijLR6JRlPj3YV3Mn9Y2YEUdpc/s1600/IMG_1962.jpg" height="640" width="478" /></a></div>
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Inside are some amazing mosaics from the 11th Century, hidden for centuries under the flooring, and only relatively recently recovered:</div>
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We also visited Cluny, with its wonderful monastic ruins:<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyV-b4eXz_pNh6i9xwIk8_6h_R2ClI0NMTwggcC9eDirFWozwvNcfq-MTsbP4ZssnGPyVxnWC8Hrj-xDNBoJfAJCQgNkBqypzloMxkb2XCmsL3fapSMvlIfnxMA3jr2MhkZTCHR807UyLe/s1600/IMG_2940.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyV-b4eXz_pNh6i9xwIk8_6h_R2ClI0NMTwggcC9eDirFWozwvNcfq-MTsbP4ZssnGPyVxnWC8Hrj-xDNBoJfAJCQgNkBqypzloMxkb2XCmsL3fapSMvlIfnxMA3jr2MhkZTCHR807UyLe/s1600/IMG_2940.JPG" height="358" width="640" /></a><br />
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After a wonderful time in Burgundy, we slowly wended our way home, stopping en route in the Alsace region for a few days:</div>
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The main object of this part of our holiday was going to Colmar:<br />
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But I must admit that the village of Kaysersbourg pleased us more: </div>
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Kaysersbourg has a delightful castle ruin, set among the vineyards and overlooking the town:</div>
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We also visited the Castle of Haut-Koenigsbourg. This is no longer a ruin, having been restored by Kaiser Wilhelm II while the region was under German rule:</div>
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(This is the view from the top)</div>
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Winter in this part of the world was (and remains) quite mild this year. We did however find some snow:<br />
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And we were most fortunate to find and photograph a white stork. I had never seen one before:<br />
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A few days in the Alsace with blue skies and sunny days, and then we were heading back home. Coming with us were a couple of French late nineteenth century bedside tables, and a mid 18th Century clock case which was so long that it just fitted in to the car. Even with the hood removed the case had to be pressed up against the rear vision mirror so that we could close the hatch. This made for an interesting ride I can tell you!</div>
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These holidays have given me some nice ideas for future posts. <br />
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And now we are back at home, and back at work, and bracing ourselves for an eventful 2014, as we prepare for our journey back to Melbourne. The current adventure is slowly coming to a close and the new adventure is champing at the bit to begin!</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08642768891794895642noreply@blogger.com29tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1636243284078640845.post-46593901194963692222013-12-23T13:11:00.003-08:002013-12-23T13:11:35.910-08:00Merry Christmas to all and to all a Merry Christmas!Well here we are, a few days before Christmas.<br />
In fact it is Christmas Eve Eve.<br />
AGA and I are out in the wilds of Burgundy for our Christmas holidays and we are loving it.<br />
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We were expecting snow but no snow has come. In fact it has been somewhat mild. <br />
No hats and mittens. <br />
No woolly coats.<br />
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It gets cold at night but the days are quite pleasant (mind you, a friend tells me that in New York the other day it was 20C!)<br />
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We are eating well:<br />
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And doing a spot of sightseeing:<br />
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It just remains for me to wish you all a merry Christmas and we will see each other again in early January.<br />
Bye for now<br />
Kirk<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08642768891794895642noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1636243284078640845.post-71330133231911087242013-12-16T13:42:00.001-08:002013-12-16T22:16:53.138-08:00Advent - Week 3Here it is the third week of Advent already! Only one more week of work to go and then two and a bit weeks holidays.<br />
And all is back on track at our bijou apartment.<br />
A marzipan coat now adorns the cake:<br />
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Colds and flu have been banished. <br />
The Christmas tree has been installed. <br />
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Mince pies and spekulatius biscuits are leading the Christmas fare charge:<br />
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. . . and all is right with the world.<br />
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And so here I sit, the evenings beginning to draw in, and fortified by a mince pie (or two) and a glass of cointreau, I begin to mull things over. . . things such as: What are my favourite Christmas Carols?<br />
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I love Christmas carols. By this I mean real Christmas carols; not 'winter songs'. </div>
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I like winter songs too - my favorite being 'Sleigh Ride' by Leroy Anderson - but that is not what I mean. I mean Christmas carols: Songs that are specifically meant to be sung in the Christmas season. </div>
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As I understand it, a "carol" was a medieval dance tune which gradually changed in meaning until we know it as a song to be sung in honour of some aspect of Christmas. I see that carols can also be about winter and there are some for Easter although they are not generally thought of in that sense. To my mind, (and I expect yours too), when the word 'carol' is mentioned we either think of someone's name, or a song to be sung at Christmas.</div>
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Anyway, I have been thinking to myself: What are my favourite Christmas carols? I decided for the purpose of this post to choose eight. Eight Christmas carols that cheer my heart...</div>
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It was hard to choose just eight because there are many that I like. The list started out at six but there were two more that I just couldn't leave out!</div>
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. . . and so here they are; in no particular order (and I have included a link at the end of each carol so you can listen to them. They may not be the best of recordings but they are the best I could find on Youtube):</div>
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GOOD KING WENCESLAS</div>
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This carol has received a fairly bad press over the years although I don't know why. I like it a lot. Written in the Victorian era, it uses as its base a medieval dance tune (an original carol) and joins it with words written to show the value of charity.</div>
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The author was John Mason Neale, a very High Church Anglican priest and hymn-writer who at one time was suspected of being an agent of the Pope. His sister Elizabeth knew my great-grandmother's family and a so-many great aunt joined her in becoming an Anglican nun.</div>
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<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l4MWOpEXe5w" target="_blank">Good King Wenceslas</a></div>
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IN DULCI JUBILO<br />
Some people say that it was composed by the great German early composer, Michael Praetorius but I am not sure if this is correct. I like the gently lilting music, which are a perfect accompaniment to the Latin words.<br />
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<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z24EMr1DKNE" target="_blank">In Dulci Jubilo</a></div>
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MINUIT CHRETIENS<br />
This was written by Adolphe Adam (composer of the ballet Giselle) and often translated as 'Oh Holy Night'. A beautiful carol. Dignity and purity seem to exude from this work. I find it very moving.<br />
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<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q5n6X9sUznI" target="_blank">Oh Holy Night</a></div>
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AWAY IN A MANGER<br />
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I thought that this carol was written by an American but I must be mixing it up with another work. This is the first carol I learnt as a child and for that reason it is special for me.</div>
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<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KQbLLowNgSI" target="_blank">Away in a Manger</a></div>
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ADESTE FIDELIS</div>
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Another carol for which the authorship is in some dispute. Known in English as Oh Come All Ye Faithful' it is said to have been composed by John Francis Wade, an English Catholic hymn writer who fled to France in the wake of the Jacobite rebellion. I always find this to be a rousing piece. </div>
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<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YKF8iWRJViM" target="_blank">Adeste Fidelis</a></div>
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TU SCENDI DALLE STELLE<br />
This one might be my all time favourite. Written by St Alphonsus Liguori in about 1732 it translates into English as 'You Came a Star from Heaven'. The lilting tune, the lovely words: what is there not to like in this wonderful piece.<br />
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<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hlaOjFHswIY" target="_blank">Tu Scendi dalle Stelle</a></div>
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ANGELS WE HAVE HEARD ON HIGH<br />
This is French carol of unknown origin, known as 'Les Anges dans nos campagnes'. It was translated into English by Bishop Chadwick of Hexham in the Victorian era. Like Adeste Fideles, I find it to be a rousing carol that gets everyone singing.<br />
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<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X7MTjm6UYYA" target="_blank">Angels We Have Heard On High</a></div>
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MASTERS IN THE HALL<br />
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I was surprised to learn that this was written by our old friend William Morris: Our very own Arts and Crafts Christmas carol! He wrote the 'medieval' lyrics to accompany a much older piece of music, composed by the Baroque composer Marin Marais. Like many carols this was in fact a dance tune but I guess that such tunes give a pastoral, countryside air to such works, in keeping with the subject matter. I like this because I think that it does indeed make one think of 'Olde England'.</div>
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<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NDKLgfw0Qc4" target="_blank">Masters in the Hall</a></div>
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And finally<br />
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SUSSEX CAROL<br />
A carol rescued by Ralph Vaughan Williams. A song of hope and of joy. I often find my self singing this while cooking!<br />
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<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hqfz0ZFjiks" target="_blank">Sussex Carol</a></div>
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Now tell me: Do you have some favourite Christmas Carols? <br />
What are they?<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08642768891794895642noreply@blogger.com24tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1636243284078640845.post-43206350906125431392013-12-11T11:12:00.000-08:002013-12-11T11:12:45.073-08:00Advent: Week 2 and a halfWhen Robert Burns wrote:<br />
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'The best laid schemes o' mice an' men<br />
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Gang oft agley…'</div>
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He might have been writing about me!</div>
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Last Friday AGA and I were invited out to dinner with some American friends of ours and as the night drew to a close I began to feel unwell. It felt as though I was coming down with some sort of sniffy cold.</div>
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The next day I could barely get out of bed! Gone were the plans for visiting the Christmas markets, doing a spot of Christmas shopping, and making a few preliminary mince pies…</div>
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I felt dreadful: Head pounding, nose blocked, legs weak - the usual thing.</div>
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So I stayed in bed.</div>
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I thought perhaps that it might be one of 'those 24 hour things': Irritating while they are present but soon gone.</div>
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Alas no. </div>
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It remained well entrenched on Sunday; and on Monday I dutifully trotted down to the place I dislike going to the most: "The Doctor's Surgery". </div>
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I went early (7:30 in the morning actually) but whether one is in London, in Melbourne, in Ludlow or in Kaiserswerth, those places are all the same. Feeling just about ready to ask for the Last Rites, One arrives to find a waiting room seemingly filled to the brim with healthy looking people who give the occasional cough. </div>
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I cast a bleary eye over the happy throng: </div>
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Malingerers! </div>
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Hypochondriacs each and every one of them!!</div>
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(With the possible exception of him with the broken arm and that woman over there with the hacking cough) </div>
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I chose a spot in the corner, settled and prepared for the long wait.</div>
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There are three doctors in the practice I go to, but the one I usually see is a very nice chap named Herr Rassmann. He speaks English (which is a bonus) and is a very nice man as well.</div>
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Fore-warned is fore-armed and while I don't attend the Doctors' on a regular basis, I do know what it would be like in the waiting room. That is why I arrived armed with 'The Magic Pudding' by Norman Lindsay: my favourite book to read when feeling unwell.</div>
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The one hour I waited until it was my 'turn' to see the Doctor, soon slipped by.</div>
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The diagnosis was a viral infection coupled with a bacterial infection, and for good measure an inner ear infection. No wonder I felt so awful.</div>
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And so here it is Wednesday and I am just starting to feel better. That's what a box of thin torpedo-like pills, coloured a rather nice shade of racing-green does for you, when combined with a box of regulation-white headache tablets, and copious cups of tea.</div>
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And as a result, my planned Blog post is somewhat late and somewhat abbreviated.</div>
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* * * * * *</div>
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These last few days have seen AGA rushing about like a mad thing; combining work and nursing duties. He is a champ.<br />
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But my schemes (like those of Burns' mouse) have gone 'agley':<br />
The Christmas tree is not 'up'<br />
I have not sent Christmas cards to relatives in England.</div>
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There are no mince pies yet, and the cake has not been 'marzipanned'.</div>
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(Bad colds that occur at Christmas time, are even more of a bother than those that arrive at normal times!)<br />
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Anyway, the extremely stormy weather we have had in recent weeks blew away all the cobwebs, and all the leaves too!</div>
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I do like the trees when all you can see is there trunks, branches and twigs, They are asleep for the Winter and there is something magical about the way they look, their branchy splendour revealed for all to gaze upon and wonder!<br />
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And the second stage of our Christmas Nativity being in place, I made a special walk down to the Basilica today; not only to see it, but to take a photograph or two for you. We have moved forward in time to the Annunciation:</div>
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The prophet has moved to one side. Our Lady and the Archangel Gabriel are taking centre stage:<br />
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And so to bed. . .<br />
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I hope that you enjoyed this little post!</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08642768891794895642noreply@blogger.com28tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1636243284078640845.post-34508192595022877702013-12-02T09:37:00.001-08:002013-12-04T11:42:23.121-08:00Advent: Week One.I was extremely busy last week: organising and overseeing the school book fair. I always think that those two days are going to be easy but they never are. Even though I am not involved in the buying and selling I seem to spend my entire day in advising book buyers, having chats about books with parents and children, and generally hobnobbing.<br />
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Time is passing:<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuB0jVvm4GHh53HSeqM_IRntvFtj0ElJSpwCqQqE6pilF9CiIPIHAItu8axI8ud0TTIi-RiameOv_jN1eBx_INc54W_wL6_dYppPf2c_3TGo0hmP0zBWXU48sSNp3rdzsWkX9KhcdGmbrl/s1600/PicMonkey+Collage2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="460" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuB0jVvm4GHh53HSeqM_IRntvFtj0ElJSpwCqQqE6pilF9CiIPIHAItu8axI8ud0TTIi-RiameOv_jN1eBx_INc54W_wL6_dYppPf2c_3TGo0hmP0zBWXU48sSNp3rdzsWkX9KhcdGmbrl/s640/PicMonkey+Collage2.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
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The leaves are almost gone from the trees and suddenly we are in to the first week of Advent. It is also, officially, the first week of Winter which seems like a good reason to have some non seasonal roses on display in our sitting-room:<br />
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I spent part of Saturday preparing our Advent Wreath:<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjor9yryNrG-8DdEQBTGhJ7i0YqPflr3wjxcgyNWrWDs4vA7pKsyPqNivr_AnrMvD6GuDACtJhGwhoO-mRrePCCJURrdw5dLPYHfde1HZBH3B9M7johtqXZwFbvB6DIvI90abi-Vv8AWOHI/s1600/PicMonkey+Collage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="384" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjor9yryNrG-8DdEQBTGhJ7i0YqPflr3wjxcgyNWrWDs4vA7pKsyPqNivr_AnrMvD6GuDACtJhGwhoO-mRrePCCJURrdw5dLPYHfde1HZBH3B9M7johtqXZwFbvB6DIvI90abi-Vv8AWOHI/s640/PicMonkey+Collage.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
This year I decided to use pine cones (instead of pine branches), autumn leaves, some gilt vine leaves and other bits and bobs to make my arrangement. I placed it all in an antique brass tray which I think have given it a very nice look.<br />
Here it is (the night before) with the first candle lit:<br />
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Over the next week or two I will gradually decorate the apartment for Christmas. At this stage I decided to bring out our Candle Houses. We have four here with us. They are made in Germany and while there are many types that can be bought, a major manufacturer is the firm '<a href="http://www.leyk-shop.com/" target="_blank">Leyk</a>'. Here is one of their pieces:<br />
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And here are two more:</div>
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The fourth one that we have kept here in Germany is a different make. It is modeled on a house in the medieval town of Quedlinburg, which we have visited a few times:<br />
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And here it is when lit with a candle:<br />
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One side of each house always contains a large opening in to which the tea light candle can be inserted. Candle houses always look so cosy and inviting...<br />
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Today I was fortunate to have a day off from school. I decided to go for a short walk around the town and take some photographs for you. Not all trees have lost their autumn splendour:<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC1sGblOl72GzdPj3py5aHDm6u69qJut8j3n93D6ho0Q_h-XzK2VzfLDn-2_rhRqabA3Bs7cH4uCiDKeirFvzUe3dGYVEQqcDZFdnTkpc_PSyWf4v_LooO6Fek1oHv9eGPFehhb2ryEeCE/s1600/PicMonkey+Collage4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="522" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC1sGblOl72GzdPj3py5aHDm6u69qJut8j3n93D6ho0Q_h-XzK2VzfLDn-2_rhRqabA3Bs7cH4uCiDKeirFvzUe3dGYVEQqcDZFdnTkpc_PSyWf4v_LooO6Fek1oHv9eGPFehhb2ryEeCE/s640/PicMonkey+Collage4.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
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Although these ones in the old town square are completely bare now:</div>
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St Suitbertus' Basilica has recently had it's Christmas Tree installed. It was lit when I went to Mass the other night but it was also raining so no photos:<br />
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Here is an 'after' and 'before' photo of the basilica interior:<br />
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It was a lot more decorated before being hit by a stray bomb during WWII. I like the way it looked back then, but I also like the way it looks now.<br />
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And here is the Advent Wreath, suspended above the Crossing:</div>
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They have also begun to set up the Nativity scene:</div>
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This represents the Old Testament Prophets who foresaw the Birth of Jesus. </div>
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As the weeks of Advent progress, the Nativity scene will become more and more decorated and developed, continuing right up to Christmas and then beyond that, until the Feast of Epiphany in early February.</div>
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I hope you enjoyed this post about my first week of Advent.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08642768891794895642noreply@blogger.com39tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1636243284078640845.post-79526363580491248272013-11-18T13:53:00.001-08:002013-11-18T13:53:32.246-08:00One large slice of Jacobean Heaven!<div style="text-align: justify;">
When we were back in England for our summer holidays, we visited (as one does) various country houses. </div>
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As members of the National Trust, we were eager to see some of the more 'out of the way' houses; ones that were off the beaten (tourist) track.</div>
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One such house was Chastleton: a fabulous, drop dead gorgeous, Jacobean manor.</div>
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We had tried to visit Chastleton one Christmas a few years ago but it was closed at that time. This time we made sure it was open before motoring over to see it - only to find that we had arrived half an hour before closing time!</div>
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One week later we were back. Chastleton was open and ready for business - and we were in Jacobean Baroque heaven!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMod4vMWgg8o1zLwucWeTVZj-K7Js_ZrB1RtForxlmOXkfw0mE5wIonAN6nLwUS2Vy_yKm9kXhRv7jvu7teBw5g7F_97YkIMFlSuKX-ud06MwDu4OzRjnyr8emr8KUTVZcMui2SsrFpa9n/s1600/IMG_2029.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="454" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMod4vMWgg8o1zLwucWeTVZj-K7Js_ZrB1RtForxlmOXkfw0mE5wIonAN6nLwUS2Vy_yKm9kXhRv7jvu7teBw5g7F_97YkIMFlSuKX-ud06MwDu4OzRjnyr8emr8KUTVZcMui2SsrFpa9n/s640/IMG_2029.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Armed with our guide book and iPad camera we spent a very enjoyable time poking into every nook and cranny the house had to offer; and now it is your turn: So polish your shoe buckles, fix your ruffs, doff your caps and come with me as we go on on a little tour of this wonderful 17th century time capsule.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVZyDEWXXoihdLka-aCOHtfTHv6c_IULbcI1LitudjBpYLZOSpn_3bSdcga3qfkMCZFkto3iiPo7GN2EBLmLrEI6Fiqb-FvaqRkpCjjesd9qrFY3o8UAxVENm2e9VwzsbSNYQlhKi8qB5i/s1600/IMG_2035.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVZyDEWXXoihdLka-aCOHtfTHv6c_IULbcI1LitudjBpYLZOSpn_3bSdcga3qfkMCZFkto3iiPo7GN2EBLmLrEI6Fiqb-FvaqRkpCjjesd9qrFY3o8UAxVENm2e9VwzsbSNYQlhKi8qB5i/s640/IMG_2035.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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Chastleton was built between the years 1607 and 1612 by a man named Walter Jones. He had bought the site from the infamous Robert Catesby (of Gunpowder Plot fame), after that man had sold it to help pay a huge fine to the Government after having taken part in the revolt of the Earl of Essex back in 1601. Walter had plans drawn up which resulted in the existing house being pulled down and a new "modern" house built in its place. The result is Chastleton House as we see it today.<br />
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Walter's people had been successful Welsh wool merchants while for his part, he had made a name for himself as a lawyer. The house he built remains little changed since his time and stayed in his family for the next four hundred years before being handed to the National Trust in 1991. Little changed over the years because the family gradually became impoverished and had not the funds to do anything in the way of modernisation. To quote from the guide book:<br />
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"Barbara Clutton-Brock, the last owner, often said that 'poverty is a great preservative'. Lack of funds had held her Jacobean house and garden in such a suspended state that its remarkable survival was of national significance." (page 2)<br />
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The Trust decided not to renovate the house, but to conserve what was there, and what a fab job they have done!<br />
No flash photography was allowed and so I took photos as best I might, using my iPad, but some rooms were too dark and some photos just didn't come out right at all.<br />
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Here is the White Parlour:<br />
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The plaster work is wonderful, as is the old 'turkey carpet':<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizpsXlhyv_6BDNauozaWAfyC6YwVXbGvOVPvPiZlc95NlA5QmF2lyAt10dkCgcr-YduaCTQIKGaFJGvvnzJlenPgvtTMeFcxppkG0Acxg93dez41PzzUiBv5575RJ131if2p_m7wuZ7DQ1/s1600/IMG_1197_2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizpsXlhyv_6BDNauozaWAfyC6YwVXbGvOVPvPiZlc95NlA5QmF2lyAt10dkCgcr-YduaCTQIKGaFJGvvnzJlenPgvtTMeFcxppkG0Acxg93dez41PzzUiBv5575RJ131if2p_m7wuZ7DQ1/s400/IMG_1197_2.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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I like the way the ancient tapestries are not hung necessarily for display but rather to serve their original purpose, which was to keep out the cold. Here a Teniers tapestry hangs similar to a curtain in the great parlour, with a chair and an old wooden writing box nearby:<br />
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(Note the ever present teasels to stop anyone attempting to sit on the fragile old chairs)<br />
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The Great Chamber has a monumental fireplace emblazoned with the arms of the builder, Walter Jones.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgicWPJA_aWajxMWf2S7gfLwzzt-__RpP5OyHG7P6gp6spyHjxWIoS2CF8D0dOFDZePWBGOsDa5r6rKeSSnyZct0-VknWQ93T8tdMj_YZiM514AMlUwOikdezx9ovIVWr5uP2WltCfhsTbn/s1600/IMG_1206_2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgicWPJA_aWajxMWf2S7gfLwzzt-__RpP5OyHG7P6gp6spyHjxWIoS2CF8D0dOFDZePWBGOsDa5r6rKeSSnyZct0-VknWQ93T8tdMj_YZiM514AMlUwOikdezx9ovIVWr5uP2WltCfhsTbn/s640/IMG_1206_2.jpg" width="478" /></a></div>
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I like the way this portrait is hung so that the light from the lamp illuminates two two porcelain vases while at the same time shining up onto the painting. It isn't perfectly done and I guess that a proper picture lamp should have been used, however, this is how it was when the family lived there and it 'works'; giving the home a true 'lived in' look rather than a 'museum' feel...<br />
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This room is known as the 'Cavalier Room'. It is called this because unbeknownst to the parliamentary troops were sleeping in there during the English Civil War, the owner of the house - Arthur Jones, who at that time was the local Royalist fugitive for whom they were looking - was hiding in the secret room next door. After having had their wine drugged with laudanum by his wife, Arthur was able to slip out through this room, past the sleeping soldiers, take one of their horses, and ride swiftly away in to the night! The bed is of the period as is the linen on the bed:<br />
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The reason that the linen remains here is that Anne Jones, wife of the then owner, was a frugal person who was widowed when relatively young. She managed to lift the family out of debt and made these sets of linen for her daughters once they were married. They were to receive then once they bore children. Unfortunately her daughters never did have children and so consequently, the linen was never given away.<br />
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This is the secret room, where Arthur Jones hid from the parliamentary soldiers sleeping next door. I like the simple oak wall panels and the way that the large paintings is set on the floor:<br />
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Here is a view down the East staircase. It is dated 1636 but was rebuilt in 1830. This was the staircase for important visitors so it is somewhat apt that you can see AGA's feet in the bottom left hand corner...<br />
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At the top of the house, it is possible to enjoy one of the wonders of England: the Chastleton House Long Gallery. Running the entire 22 metres length of the house, this is the 'longest surviving barrel-vaulted ceiling of its date in England':<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdSgkkNLek8lVnO1dOQpNjs4w3RFastdG2a1bbBnEaT1O33o_dbsSMscEAM43BPh89aeJrxhxSlvk16OOuTJCLv7_wZDiKjeeH2yalVJ2y8i_W7Ce76bqT_U4nh-PcUG5ZpooUAkJs2U3K/s1600/PicMonkey+Collage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="446" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdSgkkNLek8lVnO1dOQpNjs4w3RFastdG2a1bbBnEaT1O33o_dbsSMscEAM43BPh89aeJrxhxSlvk16OOuTJCLv7_wZDiKjeeH2yalVJ2y8i_W7Ce76bqT_U4nh-PcUG5ZpooUAkJs2U3K/s640/PicMonkey+Collage.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
I couldn't get the entire length into the photograph but you get an idea of what it looks like. That trunk on the right wall is Spanish and probably dates from around 1500.<br />
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Everywhere one looks, one see treasures.<br />
Look at these wonderful carvings and plasterwork:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIFJWSn3A65boovTasWD3tW9KazC0JkxnqOL9IzxDPxOLbxP1UUQSQHiuLw2DJDWCi6Iij0d80ojlFBzwkyPk1G8piboUu05kiW8L9NWrsQaZrBszODUF09NPN1eXNCUyVO3QHTMslK2qy/s1600/PicMonkey+Collage3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIFJWSn3A65boovTasWD3tW9KazC0JkxnqOL9IzxDPxOLbxP1UUQSQHiuLw2DJDWCi6Iij0d80ojlFBzwkyPk1G8piboUu05kiW8L9NWrsQaZrBszODUF09NPN1eXNCUyVO3QHTMslK2qy/s640/PicMonkey+Collage3.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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There are paintings:<br />
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Cabinets and curiosities such as this old hearing trumpet<br />
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The play of light and shadow in unexpected corners:<br />
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And more decorative plasterwork than you can poke a stick at:<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnTQNqQ3DPk7At-4zDfspd7nH0brZ2iDJU4jbs91ga5Jp4B7oEciJrBOJvZODui3sLPBY9mF7INwlhqRH0rvzHS_Nzu-gv-yNckjrYb5d3v2EkJiHI1WqT4lDZIkOFqMRN0uKR5CINTZya/s1600/IMG_1214.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="478" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnTQNqQ3DPk7At-4zDfspd7nH0brZ2iDJU4jbs91ga5Jp4B7oEciJrBOJvZODui3sLPBY9mF7INwlhqRH0rvzHS_Nzu-gv-yNckjrYb5d3v2EkJiHI1WqT4lDZIkOFqMRN0uKR5CINTZya/s640/IMG_1214.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
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(This is also in the Long Gallery)</div>
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Just look at this old long-case clock in the hall. It has a lenticle so that one can see the pendulum swinging without opening the door:<br />
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(The clock is somewhat dusty but such things sits well in this old house)</div>
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Down in the kitchens, the original range sits just as it was when the last owners were in residence:</div>
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For some reason I don't have many photos of the gardens. They were more of the green and bushy type rather than the colourful, floral variety:<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbM1E6NdcteJ7vHUTRb2vE9ltG65NGweOe9OAea22NkCdOZ_pUPs6TCt9nYsQ4aT_F-YHaGnv-uLjIP4MIepEEWZWHxeqXh4g8Dx3uXzMaLnBzI9c1wS02TQD-1kmK6ZPmwHOMDg4SK7QB/s1600/IMG_2043.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbM1E6NdcteJ7vHUTRb2vE9ltG65NGweOe9OAea22NkCdOZ_pUPs6TCt9nYsQ4aT_F-YHaGnv-uLjIP4MIepEEWZWHxeqXh4g8Dx3uXzMaLnBzI9c1wS02TQD-1kmK6ZPmwHOMDg4SK7QB/s640/IMG_2043.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
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And in the adjoining field stands the family dovecote (an important source of foods for the Jacobean household):<br />
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I hope you enjoyed this little visit to Chastleton House. If ever you get the opportunity to visit then I would thoroughly recommend it!<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08642768891794895642noreply@blogger.com31tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1636243284078640845.post-57295229300784877072013-11-10T11:32:00.000-08:002013-11-10T12:23:27.406-08:00What a difference a couple of weeks make.We have been living in a whirl of activity over the past few weeks - most of which were spent in Melbourne.<br />
During that time we were able to see our garden in flower. This does not happen often as we are usually there in Winter when all is asleep. This time however we were there and I was able to see one of my favourite roses in bloom: Papa Meilland:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpibGkDYYq9eMjMBlfR4rN9vHaTjFCg7Z-I1MrWkXXnvpBMoIqHFSww8rLIWbbioAnFsIrQa0rtBIFRYV3Mg97znY_26uUYMi2Eukm2P2P8kOKmACCLj2yT5YYDdnsbJxXxPs56xbOAsHC/s1600/p7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="470" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpibGkDYYq9eMjMBlfR4rN9vHaTjFCg7Z-I1MrWkXXnvpBMoIqHFSww8rLIWbbioAnFsIrQa0rtBIFRYV3Mg97znY_26uUYMi2Eukm2P2P8kOKmACCLj2yT5YYDdnsbJxXxPs56xbOAsHC/s640/p7.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
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We were also able to visit our other harpsichord, a single-manual, Flemish instrument that AGA built from a kit back in the mid 1980s. Like some wines, it has improved with time and now has a wonderfully silvery, harpsichord voice - perfect for the music of François Couperin. AGA and I had a lovely time re-aquainting ourselves with our old Flemish friend!<br />
For those of you who are interested in clocks, the long-case beauty you can see next to the harpsichord is an English 30-hour silvered-dial antique, made by Samuel Holbin in around 1750.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw6q1h1iJasTs7vxjbwzvcsaRH1b9SH5BaBKJXDr8KYMp296m_qrcxD0w22rTm_Zd64uTlwIj1_iRkXi5iEbbhi5l5_8pSb_x2zZ1dRUHUq7zA1d3SBNtNXWaNApiFP5s2ehyphenhyphen9Vo6Tz-uN/s1600/p6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw6q1h1iJasTs7vxjbwzvcsaRH1b9SH5BaBKJXDr8KYMp296m_qrcxD0w22rTm_Zd64uTlwIj1_iRkXi5iEbbhi5l5_8pSb_x2zZ1dRUHUq7zA1d3SBNtNXWaNApiFP5s2ehyphenhyphen9Vo6Tz-uN/s640/p6.jpg" width="478" /></a></div>
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We also took a few hours to motor up to the Dandenong ranges to see the rhododendrons and azaleas in flower. Mount Dandenong is famous for these beautiful trees and shrubs, and people journey just to visit the famed <a href="http://parkweb.vic.gov.au/explore/parks/national-rhododendron-garden" target="_blank">Rhododendron Gardens</a>. We had not time to visit but we saw quite a few in flower in the various villages we passed through:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNUJ2MX1LqEI67rcu8DJPhpZPfRFMyRYO90s0VD3vmwU5RnS6p8lKzI2x45MCO1lw7EXKRvg5xcCHEa2kQZHKDjZtiDiIrUyk55AFM6hkR4CmmvGFmQyjtwnRARLloKrDUHZ6U0bot42Mz/s1600/p9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNUJ2MX1LqEI67rcu8DJPhpZPfRFMyRYO90s0VD3vmwU5RnS6p8lKzI2x45MCO1lw7EXKRvg5xcCHEa2kQZHKDjZtiDiIrUyk55AFM6hkR4CmmvGFmQyjtwnRARLloKrDUHZ6U0bot42Mz/s640/p9.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Despite the fact that it is mid Spring, the weather in Melbourne was somewhat cool and damp. On a couple of days it was warmer in autumnal Germany! On our last day however, it was a lovely mid 20s day and we were able to take breakfast on the terrace. It was cool but pleasant and the sky was clear with not a hint of cloud:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz2Xmv9mHpIvDbs5ARd0IibIgP3suIHCBp83xqKpmDcSnf5cvRzLaTUzcbxm0lJVNZ6RpDk2hkAv0_yApu55d8lR_LkO5XdcchhegrLocujKCzf-zZ2q3AedyreUxpeeUSJuKcjKcslrF5/s1600/IMG_1495.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz2Xmv9mHpIvDbs5ARd0IibIgP3suIHCBp83xqKpmDcSnf5cvRzLaTUzcbxm0lJVNZ6RpDk2hkAv0_yApu55d8lR_LkO5XdcchhegrLocujKCzf-zZ2q3AedyreUxpeeUSJuKcjKcslrF5/s640/IMG_1495.jpg" width="478" /></a></div>
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I love days like that. It is rare to have blue skies here in this part of Germany with its endemic air pollution.<br />
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* * * *</div>
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The purpose of our visit to Melbourne, was to be with AGA's father (ACA), who is gravely ill. He is suffering from cancer in both his lungs and his spine. It causes his a lot of pain, but he is a strong man - both physically and mentally - and I think that this is helping him despite the fact that he endures so much.</div>
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I admire him in his adversity. </div>
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He is not letting his illness get him down and is living as normal a life as he can. We were able to spend a lot of time with him and it was difficult to say goodbye, especially for AGA. I do not think we will see ACA again, despite the fact that his doctor gives him a year at the most.<br />
When we left, ACA said to me: "There's nothing I can do about this (the cancer). My name is in the hat, and I'm just waiting for it to be pulled out." <br />
And so he remains living at home, on his own, as is his wish (although AGA's siblings hover protectively on the sidelines) pottering about and trying to carry on as he has always done.<br />
And he is sensible about his condition. When he was unable to sleep because of the pain, he called the ambulance to take him to the hospital. His medication was altered and he returned home.<br />
I do hope that if I am in a similar position, that I too can be as philosophical about it all. <br />
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We have been back here for just over one week now and the jetlag was horrible for a couple of days.</div>
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When we left Kaiserswerth it was green and pleasant with just a hint of autumn in the air. </div>
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What a difference a couple of weeks makes!</div>
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We have returned to grey skies and Autumn in full swing. The storms that took place before we got home contributed to blowing many leaves from the trees before they turned yellow. Combined with the change in daylight saving we now leave for work in the dark, experience grey days, and return home in the dark. I took this view from our sitting room window to show you what things are now like:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdt6sPf2wYvoSSaNl3jDcki9c7Yt_IuAiEpaLCGH8Xn5ql4Pwj68-NyF-4c5hPAupcOdywc-p-XxuKsBtPsSfCWQlD6-atdNcZaFFlPvzjDw_gqVWmvQGt_I3QO1JWlKfsMzheDzi2Tv9p/s1600/p8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdt6sPf2wYvoSSaNl3jDcki9c7Yt_IuAiEpaLCGH8Xn5ql4Pwj68-NyF-4c5hPAupcOdywc-p-XxuKsBtPsSfCWQlD6-atdNcZaFFlPvzjDw_gqVWmvQGt_I3QO1JWlKfsMzheDzi2Tv9p/s640/p8.jpg" width="478" /></a></div>
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With Autumn ruling our lives we know that Christmas is not too far away.<br />
They are forecasting snow for every day this coming week (but I don't believe it will happen), and the Christmas markets will soon be open for business. This has spurred me into activity and so this weekend I have made the mincemeat for our Christmas pies:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDRxRfqgmi-BC0BGDV3AJJZSbPYYajDkRC0U4XnzOYF_RFggnL5GljvCrGkJJYgDiDlLRyzx5tBE2yzmQlKSO35C1JEcWlfof-YStHKAXWC3VPuCPAvHvYMSjcYw6xNuAxbh8b2GVglq0p/s1600/P1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="478" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDRxRfqgmi-BC0BGDV3AJJZSbPYYajDkRC0U4XnzOYF_RFggnL5GljvCrGkJJYgDiDlLRyzx5tBE2yzmQlKSO35C1JEcWlfof-YStHKAXWC3VPuCPAvHvYMSjcYw6xNuAxbh8b2GVglq0p/s640/P1.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
It is an enjoyable task and scents the very air itself with a foretaste of Christmas soon to come! <br />
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(<span style="text-align: center;">Meanwhile, in a dark subdued corner (and covered in a tea cloth) the bowl of fruit for the Christmas cake sits silently sousing in a brandy bath)</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2OM3Lg_orIhm7j2tGID_2MfUBJp6xHNA8Xg2oEPCPtHzIlX-C2yOMElh63FAZXBBgvU2Y5wb_C1TSy12IGEFaNb-T5oJqOuksledY_TsU6Fogii3pejs_CscvAONFNiliQyD5oiOxU38J/s1600/p4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2OM3Lg_orIhm7j2tGID_2MfUBJp6xHNA8Xg2oEPCPtHzIlX-C2yOMElh63FAZXBBgvU2Y5wb_C1TSy12IGEFaNb-T5oJqOuksledY_TsU6Fogii3pejs_CscvAONFNiliQyD5oiOxU38J/s640/p4.jpg" width="478" /></a></div>
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One last thing.<br />
When we returned home there was a package waiting for me. Opening it carefully, I soon unwrapped this beauty:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV5ht4kAHccrnKGOUpFOeOhxQLDl5HDU0CXYWwI7KcyR1_XunAZn5x40rjnRhQwbWdBzka3VtQpvhgMQafr_Hm_UCHbCz1Dd8iFgclLNowU7iJhLhdPRUU98zajjojAmOHI7AZKCtbgodp/s1600/p10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV5ht4kAHccrnKGOUpFOeOhxQLDl5HDU0CXYWwI7KcyR1_XunAZn5x40rjnRhQwbWdBzka3VtQpvhgMQafr_Hm_UCHbCz1Dd8iFgclLNowU7iJhLhdPRUU98zajjojAmOHI7AZKCtbgodp/s640/p10.jpg" width="478" /></a></div>
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It is a 19th century, Japanese cloisonné ware vase showing bullfinches flying amongst Chrysanthemums. The sky is blue with fluffy white clouds and the flowers look as if they are waving gently in the autumn breezes. It is beautiful and I am so glad I purchased it. One of these days it will sit in pride of place on some table or other, but for the moment it stands quite sedately next to a clock, a lamp and a statue of St Florian.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08642768891794895642noreply@blogger.com26tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1636243284078640845.post-46094323693647304582013-10-18T12:29:00.000-07:002013-10-18T12:31:09.181-07:00Flying visits<div style="text-align: justify;">
Well, we are off again.<br />
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I will be away from my blog for two to three weeks.</div>
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We are visiting Melbourne because AGA's father is gravely ill. He has been ill for a few months and while he is a strong man both physically and mentally, we are told that there is little hope. He has been given one year at the most.</div>
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Of course such predicitions are just that: Predictions. No one can really know the length of another person's days, and as a colleague of mine pointed out only yesterday, the condition all each of us is 'terminal', from the day we are born.</div>
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So we are going back to see AGA's Father; to be with him; and to spend time in his company.</div>
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It is at times like these that the tyranny of distance comes into it's own. Even in these days of e-mail, and skype, and all the other niceties of 21st Century life that have made instant gratification a by-word for modern living; there is nothing like being 'there' - rather than doing so vicariously from 'here' via a length of fibre optic cable and a satellite...</div>
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On the bright side, we will also be there for my Mother's birthday - the first time in ten years that this has been possible, and we will be in Melbourne, which is always a nice place to be.</div>
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So I will say adieu for the moment, and we will be back in early November.</div>
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In the meantime, I have left you a couple of glasses of cider, and a 'Homes and Antiques' magazine for you to enjoy yourself with:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyGk6t5wqmqAmjUuy1i3z04CGyXic7z6g4hY36IAdcmQDAGnCsY_nFS0jeih2AlpoNGrjn7QYjBP676W3xmwJMz7EU_So3i4C2Y_N0hVfcUnoV3TThUKlBVvmK3kVpS-Vyw03SgzuuE7N1/s1600/IMG_1022_2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="478" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyGk6t5wqmqAmjUuy1i3z04CGyXic7z6g4hY36IAdcmQDAGnCsY_nFS0jeih2AlpoNGrjn7QYjBP676W3xmwJMz7EU_So3i4C2Y_N0hVfcUnoV3TThUKlBVvmK3kVpS-Vyw03SgzuuE7N1/s640/IMG_1022_2.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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Oh, and there is also a copy of 'Daggers in the Forum' by Keith Richardson if you are interested . . .</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08642768891794895642noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1636243284078640845.post-2858678498211415382013-10-15T11:15:00.002-07:002013-10-15T11:27:26.621-07:00It was his fault.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
I was supposed to put this post on my blog yesterday but AGA was watching the movie 'Julie and Julia' and I got 'hypnotised' - before I knew it it was time to go to sleep and I was nowhere near finishing my post!</div>
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So anyway, there we were . . .</div>
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(In Paris)</div>
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Paying a visit to a local flea market, when I saw him sitting forlornly on a table: Dirty, uncared for, in a frame that had seen better days. A sad reflection of his once glorious past.</div>
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I couldn't walk passed and not rescue him! </div>
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So I did. </div>
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He cost me 1 euro.</div>
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I was excited although AGA had his doubts.</div>
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I knew I could smarten him up and give him back his dignity.</div>
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Once we were back home I got to work. I cleaned up the frame and repainted it in gold. I replaced the backing board, cleaned the glass, and gently cleaned the image itself. </div>
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I didn't think to take a 'before' photograph but here he is restored:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgImCEo_9PUihr3-3yDumpVm0o5erPQrK_Mu0kV1qzWd6j-ILVIDibbBczdjjDM0iijSJ7NFcqKUywBJBh0kF79ug9xH8aGnHmLmcrOgqfFCTTohbOyfflnGFBV9xFodbeqt4XF91tzn5-v/s1600/Pic1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgImCEo_9PUihr3-3yDumpVm0o5erPQrK_Mu0kV1qzWd6j-ILVIDibbBczdjjDM0iijSJ7NFcqKUywBJBh0kF79ug9xH8aGnHmLmcrOgqfFCTTohbOyfflnGFBV9xFodbeqt4XF91tzn5-v/s640/Pic1.jpg" width="478" /></a></div>
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When he had his photograph taken, he clearly wanted to look his best. He is wearing his dress uniform and his medals. I guess this is his 'best side'. </div>
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And he wrote a very nice 'with love' message at the bottom and signed it. </div>
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He never thought that many years later he would up for sale at a Parisian Flea Market, for the bargain price of 1 euro!</div>
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Many thoughts enter my mind when I look at this photograph.</div>
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I wonder when it was taken. </div>
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I wonder what the occasion was, the name of the sitter, and what his life was like. His signature is a somewhat difficult to decipher, but his medals and sash seem to indicate that he was someone of no small importance in the French military establishment. </div>
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I didn't realise it at the time but he was to become my first photographic refugee: the doyen of my future collection.</div>
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Number two arrived about a year later. </div>
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We were in Sorrento and strolled inside a somewhat gloomy second hand shop (as one does) for a look around. </div>
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This one lay on a table. </div>
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Postcard sized. </div>
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Covered in a thin film of dust. </div>
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I looked at the chap in the photo: He was standing there with one hand behind his back, the other resting on a pot stand or some such thing. I wondered what made him decide to have his photograph taken on that particular day... </div>
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I presume that the photograph was taken in the Edwardian period and the subject appears to be wearing galoshes - an odd thing to wear when having your photo taken. Perhaps he was out with friends and they decided, on the spur of the moment, to have some photos taken of themselves and made into postcards.</div>
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I told AGA I was going to buy it. It cost 1 euro too! My second photographic refugee had found a home:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFHc4f-1iXoJhBAms67bYbWVuaROvmaNp5cHaNsAjJOh8E4vZ6vqyFEnvh_nmgOWq1pt39UFyIRQLQb43FvKJGKcJeN75c0cg5zK9tpN3VXRLfzDwTZg3irFWqcHpVpybC8NaMyuyQuYNN/s1600/Pic4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFHc4f-1iXoJhBAms67bYbWVuaROvmaNp5cHaNsAjJOh8E4vZ6vqyFEnvh_nmgOWq1pt39UFyIRQLQb43FvKJGKcJeN75c0cg5zK9tpN3VXRLfzDwTZg3irFWqcHpVpybC8NaMyuyQuYNN/s640/Pic4.jpg" width="396" /></a></div>
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After that I seemed to be seeing old photographs all over the place. Some were inexpensive. Some were very expensive! I bought one or two and began to keep them in a box: The plan being to frame some and place others in an old album.</div>
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That was about three years ago and my collection is slowly growing. My reasons for collecting are not 'just for the sake of it' but because I am very interested in social history and these pictures are windows in to a past that is long gone. I also like to see if I can find out about the photographers themselves as they are the artists who 'pulled it all together' to create the finished product...</div>
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Please allow me to share some of my collection with you. Perhaps you collect old photographs too!</div>
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This one was taken at the Martin Balg Studio. Martin Balg was a famous 'Hof-Fotograf' (Court Photographer) in Berlin, during the late Victorian, and Edwardian period. </div>
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The subject of this photograph has had her hair 'done' especially for the event:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn_WKy23MPyFWyEOnWIzqZF03Osjgzg5q7Fp6uiPOFfbh7Bd4pTf1JC2jyNd2YZ5_UIxBSqGwNNLIPqhNCNWQ8jVsAYxlt8CTdfCGF3k3ZD48_kCF5RypueNWcOZ8A64eFBdayokqzMTx9/s1600/Pic2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn_WKy23MPyFWyEOnWIzqZF03Osjgzg5q7Fp6uiPOFfbh7Bd4pTf1JC2jyNd2YZ5_UIxBSqGwNNLIPqhNCNWQ8jVsAYxlt8CTdfCGF3k3ZD48_kCF5RypueNWcOZ8A64eFBdayokqzMTx9/s640/Pic2.jpg" width="292" /></a></div>
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The background is more natural than in the previous photograph. One seems to be in an elegant drawing room. There is some sort of 'arty' magazine laid out on an upholstered bench, and the subject holds a slim bunch of what I take to be Narcissi. She has a rather nice wrist watch on, as well as one of those old bar brooches on her dress. </div>
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I wonder what thoughts passed through her mind as she stood there waiting to be 'snapped'?</div>
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On the back of the photograph is Herr Balg's advertisement:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiejZhFv-zMYJwB5h_5zA0LIPNYRynmhUrurPYehVpe1-tAmE1oK9TlZcNdLpjCED3fKnT1Mm2Sy4uaIejPSlszbb2lL8fV7_jkdt6DcdB-871VazzY9FBZ8WAhgjvJWVXRaGNIcTSNX_pb/s1600/Pic3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiejZhFv-zMYJwB5h_5zA0LIPNYRynmhUrurPYehVpe1-tAmE1oK9TlZcNdLpjCED3fKnT1Mm2Sy4uaIejPSlszbb2lL8fV7_jkdt6DcdB-871VazzY9FBZ8WAhgjvJWVXRaGNIcTSNX_pb/s640/Pic3.jpg" width="310" /></a></div>
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He states that his artistic photographs are all taken using modern methods. He is clearly making a lot of money and has a telephone number for clients to use when wanting to contact him!</div>
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The next photograph has a more sombre background. It was taken at the Wertheim Department Store, situated on the Leipzigerstrasse in Berlin. Wikipedia tells me that this Department store was the Berlin equivalent of Harrods in London and Galleries Lafayette in Paris.</div>
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I wonder who this young couple are. I presume they are married as she is wearing what I take to be a wedding ring. He is wearing a frock coat and has his hands behind his back: The pose of a successful man. I wonder what he does for a living?</div>
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Her hands meanwhile are folded demurely in front but I see a determined face and an inquiring, somewhat imperious look.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZnDe30NCeVxisDKAP9kienQTwg631QrGnZDP18h4_cHIvvYVeSA4KpQMtmr3OrBOzSAPcyywL-T_yPbwSSWpGT9YVp4fmd8sFOgB5Rr0m7a5GaXoJ8ACWvyU7FdpINhyNLUJThKKNDXOR/s1600/Pic5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZnDe30NCeVxisDKAP9kienQTwg631QrGnZDP18h4_cHIvvYVeSA4KpQMtmr3OrBOzSAPcyywL-T_yPbwSSWpGT9YVp4fmd8sFOgB5Rr0m7a5GaXoJ8ACWvyU7FdpINhyNLUJThKKNDXOR/s640/Pic5.jpg" width="384" /></a></div>
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This photograph of a little boy in boater hat and eton collar was taken at the Atelier Wesseman, at Bahnhofstrasse, Cassel (also known as Kassel). They have made him wear a large polkadot bow, and have given him a hoop to pose with. The background is set up to make it look as though he is standing on the terrace of some large country or town house. One hand rest on his hip. There is a resigned look about him as if he does not enjoy this 'garb' but is putting up with it while his photograph is taken:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpQAXpGbA0SW9lb8O62Wtkd8Om_k9shiLaWh7JouzguEJf8MbbybMHKZ57o9_obljI5mGdmWWCL0O8L-Iw6xOu7FK6vebxU0g98169_FR7LjQxgbotLbSNFtcnjuZn9pXfEiTkmeqFnwy1/s1600/Pic6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpQAXpGbA0SW9lb8O62Wtkd8Om_k9shiLaWh7JouzguEJf8MbbybMHKZ57o9_obljI5mGdmWWCL0O8L-Iw6xOu7FK6vebxU0g98169_FR7LjQxgbotLbSNFtcnjuZn9pXfEiTkmeqFnwy1/s640/Pic6.jpg" width="384" /></a></div>
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Now to my mind, this lady is a school teacher, with her sensible hair, her glasses and her somewhat dour attire. She has an interesting brooch on her blouse, which looks to be in the shape of two conker (horse-chestnut) cases. She had her photograph taken at the studio situated in the Oberpollinger Department Store (opened 1905) in Munich:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7TVQ03whZpp68h5nqqj8O7HWhNiHIA26ZTo9639pqFIjpHhMGm_zArYGtKKk-wBpWgN7emWZuUwk0GyFw9XCXKMB7H2xIoQ85WVTdi8vWXkCEk0hm0TA1fVTn5N4MF-uRBWmVubSpPJWH/s1600/Pic9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7TVQ03whZpp68h5nqqj8O7HWhNiHIA26ZTo9639pqFIjpHhMGm_zArYGtKKk-wBpWgN7emWZuUwk0GyFw9XCXKMB7H2xIoQ85WVTdi8vWXkCEk0hm0TA1fVTn5N4MF-uRBWmVubSpPJWH/s640/Pic9.jpg" width="390" /></a></div>
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Meanwhile, when this young chap decided to have his photo taken, he chose the 'power' look: arms folded defiantly and legs crossed. </div>
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He gazes at us with a somewhat superior air:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOn7-sWGHjeJ2M3gvrzo_PqfHU-XcpBMbolxLkLUdQhCimIqhCdPq6EzlqsGdoCRhO9Zu7BTrIszSdy-aW83fsUMZbZHm9gYpOBtmMR1pYVAWyVB4CoIt1rBsWeedsMUTMTOyXBIZwCCcB/s1600/Pic12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOn7-sWGHjeJ2M3gvrzo_PqfHU-XcpBMbolxLkLUdQhCimIqhCdPq6EzlqsGdoCRhO9Zu7BTrIszSdy-aW83fsUMZbZHm9gYpOBtmMR1pYVAWyVB4CoIt1rBsWeedsMUTMTOyXBIZwCCcB/s640/Pic12.jpg" width="384" /></a></div>
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The artist of choice was the Bavarian Court Photographer, Franz Xaver Limbrunner, who had a studio in the town of Straubing. I do like his advertisement on the back of the photograph: </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQIn0Vy6zS3aT3HU1ybEQK6l8boZGfBkpw6suS5KKeuGMm05NJK1MRQ44NnVi5xdn3eVuhyphenhyphen_dA-vlpi4DJtdaXzKXxp32Mf3jTTQIIxJB_H8BHbXuoma8c1YsxXnPDTZWBB4-h0x6IyCCp/s1600/Pic15.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="394" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQIn0Vy6zS3aT3HU1ybEQK6l8boZGfBkpw6suS5KKeuGMm05NJK1MRQ44NnVi5xdn3eVuhyphenhyphen_dA-vlpi4DJtdaXzKXxp32Mf3jTTQIIxJB_H8BHbXuoma8c1YsxXnPDTZWBB4-h0x6IyCCp/s640/Pic15.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Now this chap is wearing his gloves, cap, outdoor coat, pinz nez glasses and a very severe look... </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-U6iaXeeaPXbNHiv460h7d6X7rVsQD1wzs_30E-DP3dJIwnlLo2aKgCm466tyNOr-SR_6pWNNVd995zRxym9DrhFoQBVXCufCtJ4c0LNEvO6JweXCesYiHY5EE-dlPANOKMgfPNrLHSyQ/s1600/Pic16.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-U6iaXeeaPXbNHiv460h7d6X7rVsQD1wzs_30E-DP3dJIwnlLo2aKgCm466tyNOr-SR_6pWNNVd995zRxym9DrhFoQBVXCufCtJ4c0LNEvO6JweXCesYiHY5EE-dlPANOKMgfPNrLHSyQ/s640/Pic16.jpg" width="402" /></a></div>
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He decided to have his photograph taken with his stick in his hand as if he were just about to go out. His legs are crossed and there is an air of impatience about him. It is as if he is saying 'get on with it - I haven't got all day!' </div>
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N. Raschkow Jr. took the photo. You could find him on the 1st floor of No. 4, Ohlauerstrasse, Breslau (now Wroclav, in Poland). I think Herr Raschkow's charges are fairly pricey as he states that he is Court Photographer to the Dukes of Saxe-Meiningen, the Grand Dukes of Hesse, Prince Georg of Prussia, and Princess Louise of Prussia as well!</div>
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This is Max de Pausinger in the year 1877. I don't think that he is very old in this photo and I am wondering if he is related to Franz Xaver and Clemens von Pausinger - two fairly well known artists of the period. His pins-nez give him a scholarly air and he has an interesting hairstyle. He has had his photograph taken while wearing his overcoat:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9oKb7DN7Wg11rw6sxF9Wq4kKTosMVRGq3dmiQhCJVChJyqe8B9CH4TXJV25MiR36bOXR4F16SjsLcwJyVup3T7O6rrrTQsKB0KyADvlK4GNH6S1ShG7gYbNvCRfyIJx8a55bkUnOCsNFt/s1600/Pic11.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9oKb7DN7Wg11rw6sxF9Wq4kKTosMVRGq3dmiQhCJVChJyqe8B9CH4TXJV25MiR36bOXR4F16SjsLcwJyVup3T7O6rrrTQsKB0KyADvlK4GNH6S1ShG7gYbNvCRfyIJx8a55bkUnOCsNFt/s640/Pic11.jpg" width="440" /></a></div>
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The photographer was taken by J. Albert of Munich who states that he won an honourary diploma at the Vienna World Exhibition of 1873. He proclaims that he too is a Court Photographer: to the Courts of Bavaria and of 'Imperial Russia'.</div>
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The next subject also decided to wear his overcoat when having his photograph taken. </div>
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It is interesting to see the clothes people wore when deciding to have their photo taken: The clothes they thought would show them off to their best advantage. When this man (I can't read his name) made that choice he decided upon his overcoat with the thick fur collar. His very curly hair gives him a gipsy-ish air...</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgID5hB258pbshaHRhfEmOY6ZH_8rLh6jCrT-1ejHrqmkjPdL6smk8rVm7W0EbOnAxLQk0odAixUgjlksVHZhyphenhyphen40eFsLGxHrKwm95btwyl0_nMXF-2vTLFLHKYjNCE5CVWVLRt3J7rhIjW6/s1600/Pic13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgID5hB258pbshaHRhfEmOY6ZH_8rLh6jCrT-1ejHrqmkjPdL6smk8rVm7W0EbOnAxLQk0odAixUgjlksVHZhyphenhyphen40eFsLGxHrKwm95btwyl0_nMXF-2vTLFLHKYjNCE5CVWVLRt3J7rhIjW6/s640/Pic13.jpg" width="382" /></a></div>
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I think he may also have a faint moustache but I am not sure. Did he fancy himself as a bit of a ladies' man? Residing in Leipzig, he chose the photographers Eulenstein. They are to be found at the corner of Tauchaer Strasse 29, opposite the Clubhouse. They have a nice advertisement on the back of the photo too:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkAfSCpzbpBOpCAamn07_Z-MIm5-a9TKCTLvX53CgKalcec-j81K1pVFGhKlsI8MiTzEwoZVv_E24Amr5JJcn4DWbPgLn1_oqKd7i52h0nqY-OJ9bcChQejrwGr9Yej8xAz1ZFbzt_Skbn/s1600/Pic14.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkAfSCpzbpBOpCAamn07_Z-MIm5-a9TKCTLvX53CgKalcec-j81K1pVFGhKlsI8MiTzEwoZVv_E24Amr5JJcn4DWbPgLn1_oqKd7i52h0nqY-OJ9bcChQejrwGr9Yej8xAz1ZFbzt_Skbn/s640/Pic14.jpg" width="384" /></a></div>
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To date, most of the photographs I have collected are German, however I do have lots of others, including the next one, which is among my favourites. </div>
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It was taken by the famous photographer, Henri Claudet (1829-1880) of 107 Regent Street, London. The subject is posed with one finger touching her cheek. In her other hand she holds a flower. The scalloped sleeves of her dress are fab and give it a somewhat medieval flavour. The whole effect is very theatrical and I wonder what the rest of her dress was like. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTRJGkFQiiAD6NSgZDDAHr4UASLyYUwT4MCJrdBrfPfrBRRX7J3vpY_Py5Xsu2iH5A59tC0FfMdKj2-BSXunJRjM6tzIkKQ_f7wkFjOICmA4Zi7yjZjMdnqJWIhEZ0sebYKQykY3PHXi1K/s1600/IMG_1375.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTRJGkFQiiAD6NSgZDDAHr4UASLyYUwT4MCJrdBrfPfrBRRX7J3vpY_Py5Xsu2iH5A59tC0FfMdKj2-BSXunJRjM6tzIkKQ_f7wkFjOICmA4Zi7yjZjMdnqJWIhEZ0sebYKQykY3PHXi1K/s640/IMG_1375.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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We have be moving slowly back in time and here we are in the 1860s:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuyO7V9x7gczVTkc0PtHOorXRr3mGFPDlJOMJDX_b4MBItxTvdPWoAYg1V4sRJ-6tyCZ2I3zr8xknYYh5I-YSqX0K9cykQoOSWZ4g2jeobJHXYQ5hklqDBMGkZXmp7vx8GmvOJW-HeZKBL/s1600/Pic10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuyO7V9x7gczVTkc0PtHOorXRr3mGFPDlJOMJDX_b4MBItxTvdPWoAYg1V4sRJ-6tyCZ2I3zr8xknYYh5I-YSqX0K9cykQoOSWZ4g2jeobJHXYQ5hklqDBMGkZXmp7vx8GmvOJW-HeZKBL/s640/Pic10.jpg" width="370" /></a></div>
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Anna (I can't read the rest of her name - perhaps you can) had her photograph taken by J. Ebehardt in Mergentheim, a famous spa town in Baden-Wurttemburg. She stands rather stiff and formal, with one hand on a table containing a vase of flowers. Perhaps this was her very first time having a photograph taken. I do like the fact that someone has coloured in the flowers she holds in her hand: </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjohmLPr4Y6blPxn_wp8DsL_F1bp5zHy0JudSYlEw76YDbeDPleP5RsEje_odAb8e7SBQK-wb-vRlb4q122DqteswfHWsg26NabY8nHSrb1FhbCVhyphenhyphenKs1GWZna9uTJwUClhYSqbwSy187fk/s1600/IMG_1377+-+Version+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjohmLPr4Y6blPxn_wp8DsL_F1bp5zHy0JudSYlEw76YDbeDPleP5RsEje_odAb8e7SBQK-wb-vRlb4q122DqteswfHWsg26NabY8nHSrb1FhbCVhyphenhyphenKs1GWZna9uTJwUClhYSqbwSy187fk/s320/IMG_1377+-+Version+2.jpg" width="270" /></a></div>
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My final example also comes from the 1860s. It was taken in Celle (northern Germany) by a photographer named E. Glier. The subject (an older woman) is seated in an ornate chair and looks up inquiringly, a closed book in her lap. She wears a bonnet typical of the period and I think that her dress is tafetta. I wonder what the book was:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUBpU-K_2l6BHHck455NhGTWrrL2iJNGbnhifxT0jIuvK8DIiBvLJphNxBoRepASiSrcK0ajTD8iw4_XE8KnZCjT50Zb-qvJbnfxzj6EHhlJD_sFYH_sIrDO2pqxKGP_JegFhN2WoeenFk/s1600/Pic8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUBpU-K_2l6BHHck455NhGTWrrL2iJNGbnhifxT0jIuvK8DIiBvLJphNxBoRepASiSrcK0ajTD8iw4_XE8KnZCjT50Zb-qvJbnfxzj6EHhlJD_sFYH_sIrDO2pqxKGP_JegFhN2WoeenFk/s640/Pic8.jpg" width="380" /></a></div>
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I enjoy collecting old photographs - they provide a small window into the lives of people who lived long ago, captured in a moment.</div>
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I hope that you enjoyed this post!</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08642768891794895642noreply@blogger.com24tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1636243284078640845.post-13059251857890401372013-10-07T10:35:00.004-07:002013-10-07T11:48:37.332-07:00Autumnal SplendoursVery gradually, Autumn is making his presence felt here in Kaiserswerth.<br />
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The acorns have grown and are slowly being consumed by the squirrels and jays. Leaves are starting to turn yellow and there are pumpkins for sale all over the place! Yesterday I saw white pumpkins for sale at our local florist which means that the <a href="http://toneontoneantiques.blogspot.de/" target="_blank">Tone on Tone</a> style has reached even this part of the world!<br />
The swallows have packed up and left; and the geese are starting to fly south.<br />
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These are all signs that Autumn is approaching,<br />
but for me,<br />
nothing heralds Autumn's arrival more than the appearance of the beloved chrysanthemum.<br />
My grandfathers and my father grew these lovely flowers. They were such a part of my life that to me they were somewhat commonplace and hardly worth thinking about!<br />
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But then I met the wonderful Henri Fantin-Latour:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicozzo5N-bXobJ8HAzKlXb9OYHxxXAekTvWbn7MxbFbNLGYaeFuq9piw5-q8_-e1LX5LPLzIl1XmEMJmPgtP-tXu9DVCBi6wGDz1E0NXt9Qwja8GkrFQxseGauUtAUaUhq-hBZVFCoAnci/s1600/481px-Henri_Fantin-Latour_autoportrait.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicozzo5N-bXobJ8HAzKlXb9OYHxxXAekTvWbn7MxbFbNLGYaeFuq9piw5-q8_-e1LX5LPLzIl1XmEMJmPgtP-tXu9DVCBi6wGDz1E0NXt9Qwja8GkrFQxseGauUtAUaUhq-hBZVFCoAnci/s640/481px-Henri_Fantin-Latour_autoportrait.jpg" width="512" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Henri_Fantin-Latour_autoportrait.jpg</span></div>
<br />
Ignace Henri Jean Théodore Fantin-Latour (know as Henri) was a consummate painter of flowers in domestic settings.<br />
His images of the chrysanthemum took me by surprise. He made them look ethereal and gave them a beauty that I had previously not noticed. Just look at this:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSdChzl4YGQPOeUUCH2-pvDYu4-_A7Eo5kbRG0AFJjbpB9euNYYCUZRr1IsH7kMEfTPwff7Kartj3m3aHZBHENstNSyqRRPxrAlnW7IqElFaISldUNevJA6Tb3aDBT1lsZz__BL_xfywF0/s1600/chrysanthemums-1879.jpg!Blog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSdChzl4YGQPOeUUCH2-pvDYu4-_A7Eo5kbRG0AFJjbpB9euNYYCUZRr1IsH7kMEfTPwff7Kartj3m3aHZBHENstNSyqRRPxrAlnW7IqElFaISldUNevJA6Tb3aDBT1lsZz__BL_xfywF0/s400/chrysanthemums-1879.jpg!Blog.jpg" width="311" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">http://www.wikipaintings.org/en/henri-fantin-latour/chrysanthemums-1879</span></div>
Isn't it beautiful?<br />
Henri completely changed my point of view, and I went from passing by chrysanthemums without so much as how-do-you-do, to gazing at them with the light of love in my eye.<br />
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The tones and texture of the flowers, in their various hues, seem to me to embody all that Autumn is.</div>
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The Chinese philosopher known in English as Confucius, apparently liked chrysanthemums and wrote about them around the year 500BC.</div>
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In Japan the chrysanthemum was a highly valued plant: The Emperors took it as their personal emblem and as early as the 9th Century garden parties were held to celebrate the flowering of the chrysanthemum (known as the <i>kiku</i>) and following Chinese tradition, it was named as one of the <i>Sikunshi</i>, or four floral gentlemen, (representatives of the four Seasons). chrysanthemum season was of course Autumn.</div>
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Here is the Imperial Seal of Japan. <br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Imperial_Seal_of_Japan.svg</span></div>
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<span style="text-align: justify;">In Australia, the chrysanthemum has come to symbolize Mother's Day which in that country occurs in Autumn. A friend of mine told me that for many Italians the flower represents death and they won't have it in the house.</span><br />
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(This is interesting because in my family that role was held by the lilac. As a child I once picked a lilac to take to my Grandmother but was swiftly propelled outside again, and the symbolism explained to me, before GG (as my grandmother was known) caught sight of my 'gift'. Even today I could not have lilac inside the house although I enjoy its scent.)</div>
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I don't know when the chrysanthemum began to migrate outside of its ancestral homelands. I looked in various books but could not find the answer. Apparently it was named chrysanthemum (Golden Flower) in the sixteenth century so I guess it was in Europe, or at least known to Europeans, by that stage.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy53hJVO8ftPCfn2jEptlrxE_hD2cutEHT3dXFwK8zeuFgDlWLcnrNYEaZ6gdsugfjG91ofI61Gj3AEzdV5jiLu8ls0yCsW4hSjVoVDkyau1nCwMGegW3A_QnkFGuxGdfAIqcNYj0Yy0SB/s1600/large-bouquet-of-chrysanthemums-1882.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy53hJVO8ftPCfn2jEptlrxE_hD2cutEHT3dXFwK8zeuFgDlWLcnrNYEaZ6gdsugfjG91ofI61Gj3AEzdV5jiLu8ls0yCsW4hSjVoVDkyau1nCwMGegW3A_QnkFGuxGdfAIqcNYj0Yy0SB/s320/large-bouquet-of-chrysanthemums-1882.jpg" width="288" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;">http://www.wikipaintings.org/en/henri-fantin-latour/large-bouquet-of-chrysanthemums-1882</span></div>
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Melbourne (my adopted city) was founded in 1835. Twenty years later and advice was being given in the local newspaper on how to grow chrysanthemums. A true immigrant flower, it is now a citizen of the world, to be found in just about every part of the globe. These days when you open a plant catalogue you will find them for sale and they are so common that no one in the western world seems to give them much notice. They are almost as the grass beneath our feet. We buy then in small pots and when they have finished flowering we discard them, or put them somewhere (such as behind the potting shed) where they die from lack of care and attention. A nice thank you for the pleasure they have given us!</div>
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Daisy-like, or a cluster of petals. Pom poms, doubles, singles. chrysanthemums come in a variety of shapes and sizes. I read in my edition of 'The Flowers and Gardens of Japan' by Florence Du Cane, that the Japanese had at least 150 different types, all with appropriately poetic names: </div>
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Nihon Ichi (First in Japan)</div>
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Natsu-gumo (Summer Clouds)</div>
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Haruna Kasumi (Spring Haze)</div>
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Tsuki-no-tomo (Companions of the Moon)</div>
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Ake-no-sora (Sky at Dawn)</div>
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Asa hi no nami (Waves in the Morning Sun)</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI9E8PT0_PM0ozuMdrPhO3Sc_anm6qsVocEqobAbxq5aVZLEcZxhY2XHscGjSfQCWQiT93qv0kq3blLiObO8rRs0a4hyphenhyphenOYm-UfS9N2caUNzUBTpZxXAnm3zGfbAQ3ENHb4VTuR3yQKVSS7/s1600/chrysanthemums-1871.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI9E8PT0_PM0ozuMdrPhO3Sc_anm6qsVocEqobAbxq5aVZLEcZxhY2XHscGjSfQCWQiT93qv0kq3blLiObO8rRs0a4hyphenhyphenOYm-UfS9N2caUNzUBTpZxXAnm3zGfbAQ3ENHb4VTuR3yQKVSS7/s640/chrysanthemums-1871.jpg" width="488" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">http://www.wikipaintings.org/en/search/Henri%20Fantin-Latour</span></div>
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Here in our bijou residence, we have a 1788 edition of 'Every Man His Own Gardener'. The original owner of the book, who often pencilled in notes and crosses to denote favourite flowers, left the chrysanthemums unmarked: I felt offended! Why did he like the 'Tangier Pea', the 'Rose Lupin' and the 'Double Sunflower', but not the chrysanthemum?</div>
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It might have been because the plant was very hard to grow. Japan (where the Imperial gardeners were having great success) was still a closed country, and no one in Europe had been able to produce a fertile seed.</div>
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I checked to see what the author (John Abercrombie) had to say and I was somewhat disappointed. He tells us all about growing them and looking after them but the varieties to be had are few and somewhat boorishly named:</div>
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Double Yellow</div>
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Double White</div>
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Double Quilled</div>
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<a href="http://williamofvalence.blogspot.de/2012/10/a-pleasant-bookish-interlude.html" target="_blank">Nathaniel Paterson</a> waxes lyrical about the carnation but makes no mention of 'our' flower.</div>
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Things began to change for the chrysanthemum in the mid 19th Century. Those Imperial Gardeners' closely guarded secrets became more widely known and soon everyone was growing them. In 1846 the National Chrysanthemum Society was founded in England and its popularity grew until Henri Fantin-Latour, seeing their beauty and elegance began to paint them:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiinlXZ3-5CUnIHkqAXR8JlJTRSQ5zJba0dG38JVqeLW5rtncXq8RCmKJo-kz6z2DZoUi7hKWPPmqZJeOfywJhI74R5J39nhiiX9nJtU6UBCQYj6Hj_B5tDV8_m-SMClmKKwzdTrXPRGvt1/s1600/flowers-chrysanthemums-1876.jpg!Blog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="356" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiinlXZ3-5CUnIHkqAXR8JlJTRSQ5zJba0dG38JVqeLW5rtncXq8RCmKJo-kz6z2DZoUi7hKWPPmqZJeOfywJhI74R5J39nhiiX9nJtU6UBCQYj6Hj_B5tDV8_m-SMClmKKwzdTrXPRGvt1/s400/flowers-chrysanthemums-1876.jpg!Blog.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">http://www.wikipaintings.org/en/henri-fantin-latour/flowers-chrysanthemums-1876#supersized-artistPaintings-209025</span></div>
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So there you are: the chrysanthemum. A special flower for this special time of year.<br />
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And now, in the tradition of Japanese chrysanthemum viewing, here are some photographs of the chrysanthemums that we are growing on our balcony this Autumn:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil_Zguza-35EH2j_k0DsRbqEfNbnRZiGCTs_rP7qnyj3ptw9Nl9FNDlscklmd-2iriLbNKRBjk4xjazyUXbXQz3wBwiweu_NZsunZ1niiuX6Pwz3xMMLSsMJOFV8DrBpl1aFumFYiFSe6R/s1600/Pic2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="478" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil_Zguza-35EH2j_k0DsRbqEfNbnRZiGCTs_rP7qnyj3ptw9Nl9FNDlscklmd-2iriLbNKRBjk4xjazyUXbXQz3wBwiweu_NZsunZ1niiuX6Pwz3xMMLSsMJOFV8DrBpl1aFumFYiFSe6R/s640/Pic2.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Simple, daisy-like blooms:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0M9XkX0grXxXJrWF1-icbMUCaxxk4iOc2YreuM4Bp8Z8ziD5QDswkisGcwmsnrWDfCVe91vduuEBDEvk-jiShD25W6rKOCYIQ7AjHd-CRhulb4gjJQDrjgINENBdPnCPbncyiH67hHiyC/s1600/Pic3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="478" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0M9XkX0grXxXJrWF1-icbMUCaxxk4iOc2YreuM4Bp8Z8ziD5QDswkisGcwmsnrWDfCVe91vduuEBDEvk-jiShD25W6rKOCYIQ7AjHd-CRhulb4gjJQDrjgINENBdPnCPbncyiH67hHiyC/s640/Pic3.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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An interesting petal shape:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4Hx9Weco-FuJT9HiqrmSMtadSMVLJAnAVqjRKE7JkUlOMmXxnodpPVYwtWJR17CNkLA1iyecvTCOAYwSzYhDZAOwQNnjJlxvaDNT8pduKeIjTr328GD9z8vNHrbGjAkgx-yt7zbDrazUU/s1600/Pic4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4Hx9Weco-FuJT9HiqrmSMtadSMVLJAnAVqjRKE7JkUlOMmXxnodpPVYwtWJR17CNkLA1iyecvTCOAYwSzYhDZAOwQNnjJlxvaDNT8pduKeIjTr328GD9z8vNHrbGjAkgx-yt7zbDrazUU/s640/Pic4.jpg" width="478" /></a></div>
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One of my favourites:<br />
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Chrysanthemum: the golden flower. How could one not love such golden perfection:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO3hJ7SOhkUYpU2czdqw2c9qcF-6-mTsOFwiSGDlDF81gtDYAQ1gWyLz0JXSrc4Xjv4h6D12kE55FWz_EzQhjpx76hxt20nomURSmU62V7SdOohrwc8J7Qf4zF2m7Y4MfU6BKi99oxGKkB/s1600/Pic6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="478" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO3hJ7SOhkUYpU2czdqw2c9qcF-6-mTsOFwiSGDlDF81gtDYAQ1gWyLz0JXSrc4Xjv4h6D12kE55FWz_EzQhjpx76hxt20nomURSmU62V7SdOohrwc8J7Qf4zF2m7Y4MfU6BKi99oxGKkB/s640/Pic6.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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White petals:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLQ5ZImimZcSCVNbM04U78OFUwhTXMPvmmsnt2J9QkIdo3U5iwqHnQpnJ3z638JHbTgbNwFVoAL1KDJ8QGxSyFXysPYBUtt3hHiXHn_FptCimqNCKC7Gaax8dw43d7II2Ltbl_N0rRXBfm/s1600/Pic8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLQ5ZImimZcSCVNbM04U78OFUwhTXMPvmmsnt2J9QkIdo3U5iwqHnQpnJ3z638JHbTgbNwFVoAL1KDJ8QGxSyFXysPYBUtt3hHiXHn_FptCimqNCKC7Gaax8dw43d7II2Ltbl_N0rRXBfm/s400/Pic8.jpg" width="298" /></a></div>
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Some of our chrysanthemums, en masse, with some friendly roses and a little heather plant:<br />
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I hope you enjoyed this post!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08642768891794895642noreply@blogger.com26tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1636243284078640845.post-3431984507879716162013-09-30T10:12:00.000-07:002013-09-30T10:12:08.056-07:00a lazy Sunday afternoonIt has been a very pleasant weekend.<br />
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I phoned my nephew yesterday as it was his birthday. He has just turned fourteen and is heavily in to sport. He is never happier than when kicking a football about. Sport was never my thing really, except in a purely armchair capacity...<br />
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And speaking of armchairs, this Sunday afternoon I have spent quite a lot of time reclining in one!<br />
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It has been a particularly sunny day:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkVKbo6fOMRb_eN72FjN5jZOJSwayA3HZPNZgCezB517mAz7C-zRLP095u8rfti_0rduRRwzIPUj3-EwJOlgBX4w3bxTRdgJIq8r8j2Vx4WJ49t_CmwO2gISfnNVmIgeh0XPU-5V1NsWQK/s1600/Pic9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkVKbo6fOMRb_eN72FjN5jZOJSwayA3HZPNZgCezB517mAz7C-zRLP095u8rfti_0rduRRwzIPUj3-EwJOlgBX4w3bxTRdgJIq8r8j2Vx4WJ49t_CmwO2gISfnNVmIgeh0XPU-5V1NsWQK/s640/Pic9.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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. . . and I have been feeling particularly lazy: sitting idly in one of my favourite chairs, with the sun shining upon me . . .<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJrp54viy18Z_cd7wA_EpeFTTZcpn1wabGv0vaidw3Kv5l_X9Vj0koqL2EfGYkcu3w-Qx8SYxYsWzdjiN4zzKItxTEkxQqvSGlxi8RXl3wdsE7GqAtR9854fILJhgSdYg7nASdpQEgtd3R/s1600/Pic5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJrp54viy18Z_cd7wA_EpeFTTZcpn1wabGv0vaidw3Kv5l_X9Vj0koqL2EfGYkcu3w-Qx8SYxYsWzdjiN4zzKItxTEkxQqvSGlxi8RXl3wdsE7GqAtR9854fILJhgSdYg7nASdpQEgtd3R/s640/Pic5.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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<br />
. . . and what's more I have had a nap - which is always a nice thing to do. <br />
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(My father called taking a nap 'resting the great brain'.)<br />
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It is a delicious feeling to be sitting in a comfortable position, in a comfortable armchair, and suddenly becoming aware that one is starting to drift - to 'nod off'. <br />
At that moment one has two options: shake it off or succumb. This afternoon I chose to allow Morpheus to have his way with me - and half an hour later awoke feeling revived, refreshed and just in time for a cup of tea!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1dZFcBav2aqgmn4TW5jvUNs3tbRJpyNMVznMiLBk2BS9rc9G7BnizyEi4y4sNscoAZ1xdPYqpq_d_ziwXfAPzdWpC_ykcdRhW7cj-PikPe5Vu6jXwMaYJRi9hXJ5ZpfyoTrEgfdfiAl-W/s1600/Pic3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1dZFcBav2aqgmn4TW5jvUNs3tbRJpyNMVznMiLBk2BS9rc9G7BnizyEi4y4sNscoAZ1xdPYqpq_d_ziwXfAPzdWpC_ykcdRhW7cj-PikPe5Vu6jXwMaYJRi9hXJ5ZpfyoTrEgfdfiAl-W/s640/Pic3.jpg" width="478" /></a></div>
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Actually I was slightly late, because as everyone knows, everything stops for tea at 4 o'clock, not 4:14!</div>
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And where there are cups of tea, there must also be cake.</div>
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I think I may have made mention of a wonderful cake/tart I had, at a little cafe in the old town of Barcelona last June. At the time I was determined to find out what the name of that heavenly creation was, and more importantly, how to make it. </div>
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I soon ascertained that it is called Tarta de Santiago. </div>
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The next thing thing was to find out how to make it. </div>
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There were all sorts of variations to be found on the Internet, but checking through my recipe box I found that I had had the foresight to cut out a particularly nice sounding version found in a fabulous magazine I subscribe to: Australian Gourmet Traveller. </div>
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And so this weekend I made it (complete with the Cross of Santiago stencilled on top in icing sugar:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaoI_YPCn-2vCWLnwov3LU7I0yk1bKZv3iaKBIMmiOahT809tjFhcPZoH7W81OtAsXaJOmrUCpzZmvPAOEtM6OxyWvG1BjE81WTYomOhsnifgzSZUkPsV1SONuhDuUt5pEaxBr3kgNFnFO/s1600/pic1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="478" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaoI_YPCn-2vCWLnwov3LU7I0yk1bKZv3iaKBIMmiOahT809tjFhcPZoH7W81OtAsXaJOmrUCpzZmvPAOEtM6OxyWvG1BjE81WTYomOhsnifgzSZUkPsV1SONuhDuUt5pEaxBr3kgNFnFO/s640/pic1.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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I know it is bragging but I must point out that the result was a complete success! Basically a short crust pastry shell filled with an lemon scented almond mixture, it is very easily made (and very easily eaten too!)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzcwBJ_Is81b96chMTzWoX-hCt06hyZscvqBdgdDzrIlKivq5rZJGy5oTAOit_rMSXHLXUk1rHfNKOMvTbX1cV9m_7A_EWxnoQeycYcPe3BmIYKBuP3OmBtj6WfkV3T6DJ3wE-x5Raxvk4/s1600/Pic6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzcwBJ_Is81b96chMTzWoX-hCt06hyZscvqBdgdDzrIlKivq5rZJGy5oTAOit_rMSXHLXUk1rHfNKOMvTbX1cV9m_7A_EWxnoQeycYcPe3BmIYKBuP3OmBtj6WfkV3T6DJ3wE-x5Raxvk4/s640/Pic6.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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And so there I sat, enjoying the afternoon. <br />
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I was sublimely content.<br />
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I also knew that something wonderful for dinner was slow cooking in the oven, courtesy of AGA:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxf6MN5cZ7BQex_27IdzJwPedfMrKYvARaq46VtCQ8lI8tJW6svf4c3E8ybsvui_yig7ldpHvjZuaFmd4uN4wjwg3_xqlwEnVb1TBTmqTV6HGmu8Lcu5I1m5tttG74z0k5VDoGFZQhOY0q/s1600/Pic8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxf6MN5cZ7BQex_27IdzJwPedfMrKYvARaq46VtCQ8lI8tJW6svf4c3E8ybsvui_yig7ldpHvjZuaFmd4uN4wjwg3_xqlwEnVb1TBTmqTV6HGmu8Lcu5I1m5tttG74z0k5VDoGFZQhOY0q/s640/Pic8.jpg" width="478" /></a></div>
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There was lovely music playing:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMC9CbODDL2gVGn3qYOma68ugshKjTYMMVrRT_X6-QziSkCqg53XDPnWSmN4F5NfjyzsZZrnVJ0sn_bH3breJYVxpFBMFilr3HdFVulMzhDVJeZAQNQDRcP3P3cSxrmdXqyeTypKZ-9S2Q/s1600/Pic10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMC9CbODDL2gVGn3qYOma68ugshKjTYMMVrRT_X6-QziSkCqg53XDPnWSmN4F5NfjyzsZZrnVJ0sn_bH3breJYVxpFBMFilr3HdFVulMzhDVJeZAQNQDRcP3P3cSxrmdXqyeTypKZ-9S2Q/s640/Pic10.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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And all was right with the world.<br />
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And that's it . . .<br />
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Sometimes there is nothing nicer than a lazy afternoon at home! Don't you agree?Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08642768891794895642noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1636243284078640845.post-5019491494184436742013-09-22T13:09:00.000-07:002013-09-22T22:10:56.178-07:00Dreams broken, and dashed asunder!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
Far away, on the Leicestershire/Northamptonshire borders, far away from roads and indeed, any hint of the 21st Century, you might (if you are lucky) come across this green, tree-lined lane:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqBfzmMdCDJZppbok5_N9HyiPqjTPwmH5a6UbOB4nIHfzDQVdpG1lGZe7nCPNFDVcv-ZLWLmee20BAw1PSaKT49uyHR7qzoBy1HECEjeMWb1dzCIPnUdlYwumuSD3L_-yi8DDVYJc1ptr6/s1600/pic1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqBfzmMdCDJZppbok5_N9HyiPqjTPwmH5a6UbOB4nIHfzDQVdpG1lGZe7nCPNFDVcv-ZLWLmee20BAw1PSaKT49uyHR7qzoBy1HECEjeMWb1dzCIPnUdlYwumuSD3L_-yi8DDVYJc1ptr6/s640/pic1.jpg" width="478" /></a></div>
<span style="text-align: justify;">This lane is not made for striding along in stout walking books.</span><br />
<span style="text-align: justify;">A gentle amble is all that is required.</span><br />
At the end of the lane is, what appears at first to be, a stream:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO6ugiD9v12ani06gRfyefI8dcFjqkLOqPGOSoFpZz_5lQXQbgakk0nGwq0YML9uxSxvyB-M3_05VOFhmfN8QNA9tBgR-D5yFXU73wxnFDV_b2Fe2y9pzMnA2H3LiCoDKJ_u0_4QPCdkBp/s1600/pic2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO6ugiD9v12ani06gRfyefI8dcFjqkLOqPGOSoFpZz_5lQXQbgakk0nGwq0YML9uxSxvyB-M3_05VOFhmfN8QNA9tBgR-D5yFXU73wxnFDV_b2Fe2y9pzMnA2H3LiCoDKJ_u0_4QPCdkBp/s640/pic2.jpg" width="478" /></a></div>
Closer inspection reveals it to be a moat of sorts, surrounding a greenish hill: no castle is to be seen, but it is definitely manmade. <br />
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Is this some sort of fairyland? <br />
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To some extent the answer is 'yes' and this is only reinforced as one leaves the moat behind and strolls past a meadow filled with wild flowers:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwWVWMdqcYDe4DdtniP4Qhqlewrc2rcvc3rXkHC_-JUaf6yD7M8IoXLS4bkRwGWFzePE0iHTVj60naLM49ZGvvRkxq0sIVtwt1rQW3FASil86rXZ-hPKNRDyBdzujZSfEbP6GXZ4Rbg3km/s1600/pic3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwWVWMdqcYDe4DdtniP4Qhqlewrc2rcvc3rXkHC_-JUaf6yD7M8IoXLS4bkRwGWFzePE0iHTVj60naLM49ZGvvRkxq0sIVtwt1rQW3FASil86rXZ-hPKNRDyBdzujZSfEbP6GXZ4Rbg3km/s640/pic3.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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One feels a part of nature - but is it really? Is this nature in the raw - or an idyll? A tamed and civilised nature - a heavenly nature?<br />
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There is certainly enchantment here...<br />
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Suddenly, one notices a relatively ordinary looking, old house which is only made extraordinary by the fact that it is seemingly sitting in the middle of nowhere. . .<br />
Do these fields; the green and pleasant lane; the moat, all belong to this fairly ordinary house?<br />
(And who lives in there?)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggeUliyzihSejaT5zPXzU_vPPAwdj0FIgweNQElLCjpUZwBBU1hUHaSeLBSx-YNFgXH6su3phfbYS-JWax04hKRRcI65TvDlXmi52KKBFT-94YP1YxXHDdNlCd_2SdffKujd6R6Lys74ZH/s1600/IMG_0651.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggeUliyzihSejaT5zPXzU_vPPAwdj0FIgweNQElLCjpUZwBBU1hUHaSeLBSx-YNFgXH6su3phfbYS-JWax04hKRRcI65TvDlXmi52KKBFT-94YP1YxXHDdNlCd_2SdffKujd6R6Lys74ZH/s640/IMG_0651.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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But all thoughts of the house and it's occupants are forgotten when one notices what is standing behind it: A palace worthy of a fairytale!!<br />
Lyveden New Build - a place of dreams broken and dashed asunder.<br />
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Lyveden New Build (or as the National Trust puts it 'Lyveden New Bield')<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEqZvn7MBhEffKZAtL862e_8Ae2u7ZiBEprzFQiq-UFlD9SJ0DrF78qX-q7QXGdyaZ8vrxcYWpAs2hkRojgyHTBB-a63vMlqEzHh3WRoIyplvHWU1915JGLmioaho2OPmOjujfdasGkiue/s1600/pic7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEqZvn7MBhEffKZAtL862e_8Ae2u7ZiBEprzFQiq-UFlD9SJ0DrF78qX-q7QXGdyaZ8vrxcYWpAs2hkRojgyHTBB-a63vMlqEzHh3WRoIyplvHWU1915JGLmioaho2OPmOjujfdasGkiue/s640/pic7.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Lyveden looks like a house in ruins but in fact it is a structure 'frozen' in mid construction.</div>
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It may look like a grand house but in truth it is 'only' a lodge; conceived and built by Sir Thomas Tresham. </div>
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It was called New Build to distinguish it from the old Lyveden, the family home of the Treshams. </div>
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The New Build was designed as a place to retire to from the hurly burly of life on a large sheep farming estate. It would be to this spot that Sir Thomas, his family and intimate friends could retire and be away from it all.</div>
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Sir Thomas Tresham was a fashionable, socially well-contacted, Elizabethan courtier from a wealthy family. </div>
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Old money. </div>
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Old religion. </div>
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In this new Protestant kingdom, Thomas and those like him stood out for their Catholic adherence. At first a Catholic who outwardly conformed to the new order of things, he suddenly rebelled and began refusing to go to the Protestant Church services. The Government were used to this sort of thing and had the perfect remedy: Lengthy Prison terms and heavy fines. This was to be Thomas' lot in life. The chains that would eventually overcome his dreams.</div>
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The application of those fines would gradually meant an ever increasing dint in his wealth; but at first Thomas was able to absorb such losses. Sheep farming was his major source of wealth. Wool production provided him with a steady income. But Sir Thomas's purse was not bottomless and eventually those fines, combined with a very generous lifestyle, and a total of fifteen years in prison - at his own expense - had the effect of slowly beggering the once wealthy family. But that was in the future. We are at Lyveden, begun when Sir Thomas was feeling more financially secure...</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLSgjxJKE0Nd3hM1vtaz77wzg1IVJzh1wNWBqvzW4kAbo7cJTRd8-QPTNx7zT-N3bi3CGGGW8uclDm2HH0M_YKBA1Xm9T4652F_UunnDvJYbYyYczvdBqqAR54oonV-WdrUdGkcMoP9oYd/s1600/pic4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: justify;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLSgjxJKE0Nd3hM1vtaz77wzg1IVJzh1wNWBqvzW4kAbo7cJTRd8-QPTNx7zT-N3bi3CGGGW8uclDm2HH0M_YKBA1Xm9T4652F_UunnDvJYbYyYczvdBqqAR54oonV-WdrUdGkcMoP9oYd/s640/pic4.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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The front door at Lyveden</div>
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When Sir Thomas set his hand to something, he seems to have given it his all. He had already dabbled in design, having draw up plans for the triangular-shaped Rushton Lodge (in the same County). That building had been constructed based upon certain principals which Sir Thomas expanded upon with Lyveden. </div>
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It was a slow process and by 1605 the stonework of the basement, the ground and the first floors of Lyveden were all constructed. The materials for the second floor had been collected and . . .</div>
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But there was no more 'and'. </div>
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Sir Thomas died.</div>
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His son and heir Francis was suddenly caught up in the gunpowder plot, dying 'mysteriously' in prison in the same year.</div>
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Everything fell in a heap.</div>
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Thomas had had to provide wedding dowries for his six daughters. This together with the huge fines imposed upon him by the government meant that he died with his estate in significant debt.</div>
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The disgrace and death of his heir, leaving a child to inherit the impoverished lands meant that at that moment there was no money to pay the workmen, and there was unlikely to be any for some time to come. Their response was to cut their losses, pick up their tools, and leave.</div>
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And that, for the most part, was that.</div>
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Lyveden New Build remained trapped.</div>
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Unfinished.</div>
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Any interior wooden structures have either rotted away or were carted off for other purposes and apart from a minor incident in the Civil War that could have led to it's destruction but didn't, Lyveden has stood frozen in time. The building was sturdy, well constructed and able to withstand the elements, even in its unfinished state.</div>
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And thus it remains until this day</div>
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(Which is nice actually because it is now owned by the National Trust and you can visit it yourself!)</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOQXdkkhyphenhyphen8D3ONuEU3upC1SdjvcQIbixM5B8a-dIt9dvA6rGPqG2ehmZYkCKifmrqk9oggY-hb4zgDPaYzvP5K_ULPJ31-kCWDWVEfbVPhOrHRaPB44Ix-V8IqAbw0jW1G_0C4ps-3zNYN/s1600/pic5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOQXdkkhyphenhyphen8D3ONuEU3upC1SdjvcQIbixM5B8a-dIt9dvA6rGPqG2ehmZYkCKifmrqk9oggY-hb4zgDPaYzvP5K_ULPJ31-kCWDWVEfbVPhOrHRaPB44Ix-V8IqAbw0jW1G_0C4ps-3zNYN/s640/pic5.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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This is a photo of some interior carves stone ceiling work. It is a typical late Renaissance pattern, similar to that which can be seen at Burghley, home of Sir Thomas' political enemy (and Elizabeth's chief councillor, William Cecil):</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiimBSOKElNXe6oUMhKFuf0Rvr0V4qzggpBpjJfNaYjuqWsUaMiClaANdTRmk1JIpbmmxDygo1ARKTv1zIjpJNSE6vFyMavX4o4PF4KKNPuG27gAMDEpV9qTuNE9DEKBiTjG8_2hj4DuVz3/s1600/IMG_0269_2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiimBSOKElNXe6oUMhKFuf0Rvr0V4qzggpBpjJfNaYjuqWsUaMiClaANdTRmk1JIpbmmxDygo1ARKTv1zIjpJNSE6vFyMavX4o4PF4KKNPuG27gAMDEpV9qTuNE9DEKBiTjG8_2hj4DuVz3/s400/IMG_0269_2.jpg" width="298" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">I took this photo at Burghley House but forgot to 'picmonkey' it </span></div>
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But why visit? Why did I make the journey to go and see it?</div>
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It 'appears' to be a half-finished lodge, standing in the middle of a field but there is oh so much more to Lyveden than that!</div>
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Symbolism was very fashionable in the Elizabeth era. </div>
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Hidden meanings: It was a very Renaissance 'thing'.</div>
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Almost everything could stand for something else and entire books were composed on the subject. Secret codes. Secret messages. The Renaissance mind love it! </div>
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The colours you wore; the jewellery and embroidery with which you adorned yourself; the statuary; the carvings on your house; the very flowers you chose to have in your garden: All were ways of making a statement without actually being seen to make one.</div>
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Take for example this famous portrait of Queen Elizabeth I: The so-called Rainbow Portrait:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7xWVTHmI_mudb4eGN8FCxL31lMBvrFcViVOvO0fXe1rJmYB2Im6EKu7BE49psXG7lH5FkS9yOUflVBwkL0KE-jLGlraLQhumZh29h2_L-M_nlgwRFMgfdt_iUulqv4RbSFKDC3g_ljcMG/s1600/PicMonkey+Collage1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="580" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7xWVTHmI_mudb4eGN8FCxL31lMBvrFcViVOvO0fXe1rJmYB2Im6EKu7BE49psXG7lH5FkS9yOUflVBwkL0KE-jLGlraLQhumZh29h2_L-M_nlgwRFMgfdt_iUulqv4RbSFKDC3g_ljcMG/s640/PicMonkey+Collage1.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Elizabeth_I_Rainbow_Portrait.jpg</span></div>
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Eyes, ears, a rainbow, pearls: the painting is adorned with symbolism. Sometimes we think we know what the symbols mean but we could well be quite wrong. Sometimes we have no idea what the 'message' is.</div>
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Lyveden is building full of symbolism</div>
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Sir Thomas conceived the idea of Lyveden Lodge after his volte face on the issue of his outward conformation to Government diktats. The lodge was to be a symbol of his return to his Catholic roots in the face of increased government persecution. It would proclaim to one and all where his sympathies lay.</div>
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As you can see from this aerial view, Lyveden was built <span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">in the form of a Greek Cross:</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirNovbp9wlCh36FlovKV-uouuzHiDgdFPmZ17NTQ60FUsUkGDv6CabHvYpvYpN4ktiggm6i8QnhE326Q608ZS1oz2neOfC_eThg4uZDU2iRjmgDpIeykDQyAnM9scNJ7oeomnuJamPeg1_/s1600/lyvedennewbield+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirNovbp9wlCh36FlovKV-uouuzHiDgdFPmZ17NTQ60FUsUkGDv6CabHvYpvYpN4ktiggm6i8QnhE326Q608ZS1oz2neOfC_eThg4uZDU2iRjmgDpIeykDQyAnM9scNJ7oeomnuJamPeg1_/s320/lyvedennewbield+2.jpg" width="317" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;">http://www.northamptonshiretouristguide.com/Articles/Article_57.asp</span></div>
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A Greek Cross has four arms of equal length, and this is the basic layout of the building. This meant that the building could consist of five equal squares of which you will read more later.</div>
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Sir Thomas then directed that certain symbols were to be carved on the outer surfaces of Lyveden. These symbols were to not only make a statement about the owner but were to illustrates the mystical nature of the building.</div>
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Here are some examples:</div>
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In the main photo below is the Chi Rho sign. Top right is Our Lord's robe and the dice that the guards used for gambling to see who would get the robe after He died. The lower right photographs shows some of the letters carved into the stonework. In the bottom right is part of the Latin inscription that ran around the first floor. It consists of various statements in Latin, taken from the Bible. This part reads in full (and I have highlighted in red the part you can see) : </div>
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J E S U S. B E A T U S. J V E N <span style="color: #cc0000;">T E R. Q V I. T E. P</span> O R T A V I T. </div>
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In English: Jesus, Blessed is the womb that bore thee.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBVZIj0G6f47xP1GUbpTFDK4GAoVaxMYuoaxRg6L6N78n_cJj2oBPFcvYM4q_yrQxFnq49kjY7blFG5miyeR8zfZaboGP9JjkfNH2BDhrUjOwbetDXLlXr0SGv7i8WP-_4BtwaVzG0A6Yo/s1600/PicMonkey+Collage1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBVZIj0G6f47xP1GUbpTFDK4GAoVaxMYuoaxRg6L6N78n_cJj2oBPFcvYM4q_yrQxFnq49kjY7blFG5miyeR8zfZaboGP9JjkfNH2BDhrUjOwbetDXLlXr0SGv7i8WP-_4BtwaVzG0A6Yo/s640/PicMonkey+Collage1.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
In this second collage you have: Main photograph, the sacred IHS (which can mean Iesus Hominum Salvator (Jesus Saviour of the World) or In Hoc Signo (In this sign you will conquer). It was also the symbol for the Order of Jesuits (the<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"> b<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 19px;">ête noire of the English Government). The upper right shows the ChiRho sign again, plus a bag symbolising the money paid to Judas for betraying Jesus. The thirty silver coins are carved as a ring around the bag. The middle photograph shows the instruments of torture used on Jesus. The bottom photo shows more of the same.</span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtbsrEXwDBVS8GCgLBKfCbly1zorbZIVKpDTIMXC83YnmuP8XW2vursPInBPM5Mtn63hUk_UJyvJJPFSuWZ-f_F7ZGHhyphenhyphenkMTd3E_Unx5EKw1rkfyotTy90gVB5VI3bmdpeQ5geTG4-7io1/s1600/PicMonkey+Collage2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtbsrEXwDBVS8GCgLBKfCbly1zorbZIVKpDTIMXC83YnmuP8XW2vursPInBPM5Mtn63hUk_UJyvJJPFSuWZ-f_F7ZGHhyphenhyphenkMTd3E_Unx5EKw1rkfyotTy90gVB5VI3bmdpeQ5geTG4-7io1/s640/PicMonkey+Collage2.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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All these symbols refer to suffering, the overcoming of suffering, and the persecution the government was carrying out against those who maintained the 'old religion', people like Sir Thomas. No wonder he was a government target!<br />
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Sir Thomas was a very clever man and even from his prison cell he directed his building operations. He used special numbers when designing Lyveden: Three to represent the Holy Trinity; Five to represent the Five Wounds of Christ, and Seven to represent the seven instruments of the Crucifixion.<br />
Here is a quote from the National Trust Guide Book:<br />
"The plan of New Build consists of five equal squares. Each arm of the Cross ends in a bay with five sides, each measuring five feet, making a total of twenty-five feet. This is no accident - the 25th is the date both of the Nativity (December) and the Annunciation (March)...<br />
"The lodge is on three floors (but the second floor was never built) . . . Outside, sets of three shields are divided by three windows, diamonds are grouped in threes and the measurement from one side of the building to the other is 243 feet - three x three x three x three x three.<br />
I find these sorts of things both fascinating and very clever.<br />
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The audio guide told me that this niche probably held the Statue of Our Lady owned by Sir Thomas's wife (and usually hidden from the government who would have destroyed it). <br />
In those days, after the death of her husband and son, (and the wooden floor and rudimentary ceiling still existed) she sometimes came here with a few select followers to meditate and pray:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiASnLn-QvAzZt1dqCHZa7la0_SUw3lzKoDwFbVtEUaXYAGFcHU5drspVZiwdU5ZgDhpEUr_DOAm4KSzt4msmuc3karcUhUV6DF6BkU-oRnIktBRS2JkTnI0Fe3Nv8UOpXyGWA-09_xITjh/s1600/pic6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiASnLn-QvAzZt1dqCHZa7la0_SUw3lzKoDwFbVtEUaXYAGFcHU5drspVZiwdU5ZgDhpEUr_DOAm4KSzt4msmuc3karcUhUV6DF6BkU-oRnIktBRS2JkTnI0Fe3Nv8UOpXyGWA-09_xITjh/s640/pic6.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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Tourists throughout the ages have visited Lyveden and some have left their mark:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdLMMrdSmUaImGAJqtPn0rHWOOXorwRYDapOzzA0Acjbm1mHgyuBCBdoMcS0qR38XyoHi3s6-6LMt2er6vvJC7aezs8AU7J_wpKLSOcPP4MZ2CLuGlVc3Uxx4u5aXC3GEjBUETx_vz4kuG/s1600/pic8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdLMMrdSmUaImGAJqtPn0rHWOOXorwRYDapOzzA0Acjbm1mHgyuBCBdoMcS0qR38XyoHi3s6-6LMt2er6vvJC7aezs8AU7J_wpKLSOcPP4MZ2CLuGlVc3Uxx4u5aXC3GEjBUETx_vz4kuG/s640/pic8.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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The interior gives us hints as the plans Sir Thomas had for the finished product. What a wonderful place it would have been!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqsZ5O0Z3mW7M_QE8KK5lfETWxDxtnkK6GDuIUqONcI9X5ATThqZs9hQZ9Ft8RyFcPd60sxzBLfK80PVpLdnZi_7AqhCQHOor9xH5YlDUe2E0Xc4_QpAh4EfEwdS2PbIfqWkPw79Rb2hiz/s1600/pic11.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqsZ5O0Z3mW7M_QE8KK5lfETWxDxtnkK6GDuIUqONcI9X5ATThqZs9hQZ9Ft8RyFcPd60sxzBLfK80PVpLdnZi_7AqhCQHOor9xH5YlDUe2E0Xc4_QpAh4EfEwdS2PbIfqWkPw79Rb2hiz/s640/pic11.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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One sees everything from the basement level because of course there is no flooring although the holes for the joists still exist. In one part of the complex however, one can mount a platform and look out of the upper floor windows, across the fields. In Sir Thomas' days these fields were home to his extensive herds of sheep:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkvXq44L5hwr7PotLX9J9xpGA1d-S8OvfaQfJz5NYjT1XggQwG8N36xYP6gFCtZ7JQKR-9LfKtUAht8cU3Y1GjzwG-TviTownQOj454hm4ISNITmnSmcdckLXjSrzipr0lkAv99eLUDaZs/s1600/pic14.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkvXq44L5hwr7PotLX9J9xpGA1d-S8OvfaQfJz5NYjT1XggQwG8N36xYP6gFCtZ7JQKR-9LfKtUAht8cU3Y1GjzwG-TviTownQOj454hm4ISNITmnSmcdckLXjSrzipr0lkAv99eLUDaZs/s640/pic14.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
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Lyveden is not a big place. A visit, even with an audio guide, doesn't take much time. Indeed many people come and go within half an hour!<br />
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The building is undoubtably beautiful. The stone turns almost honey-coloured in the afternoon light, and the very green grass at this time of year only goes to accentuate this beauty:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQa5_xSf9OWGmViArC8CrxG1u1OKulYKnAeH8uccMIdIMGRwCmCDf_rK2dQ91jAfGU64EVlYVWKIT9mxScLtOfKX1yof36sZAd5A6AFkoGcjgRlcLytOuzY9w2p3ZNLb5CUlFkn0CqOb5K/s1600/pic13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQa5_xSf9OWGmViArC8CrxG1u1OKulYKnAeH8uccMIdIMGRwCmCDf_rK2dQ91jAfGU64EVlYVWKIT9mxScLtOfKX1yof36sZAd5A6AFkoGcjgRlcLytOuzY9w2p3ZNLb5CUlFkn0CqOb5K/s640/pic13.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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But beauty is not the real reason for visiting Lyveden. Nor is the fact that you can tick off (on your list) another National Trust property visited.<br />
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Rather, the reason for visiting Lyveden is to be found in the site itself, the atmosphere, and the spirit of the man who built it.<br />
These are the things that drew me to visit this unfinished diamond. I find that there is a sense of dignified sadness about the place. <br />
What dreams Sir Thomas must have had when first he conceived of building this 'little' lodge for himself.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ3UIvVGMTBYuVzMeA4LmVjg_QD7cQ2oo7iY6DUqAQpZoBJ3iGlFf4SFjntQs2BaaWHx_7PUD6WQiLFN-HJ5zI-U-TjhtZcVNg8b0Vx-iS7LHfOITJ9467CCtO-cH3JBiZ1HHc6Kd-3uK2/s1600/pic10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ3UIvVGMTBYuVzMeA4LmVjg_QD7cQ2oo7iY6DUqAQpZoBJ3iGlFf4SFjntQs2BaaWHx_7PUD6WQiLFN-HJ5zI-U-TjhtZcVNg8b0Vx-iS7LHfOITJ9467CCtO-cH3JBiZ1HHc6Kd-3uK2/s640/pic10.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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I hope you enjoyed this little tour. If you have not been there already, I recommend you hot-foot it there as soon as possible!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08642768891794895642noreply@blogger.com30