Iron Ladies

Mother's Day March 15th 2015 and my phone is buzzing with loving messages from my own offspring as I prepare a special Sunday Lunch with our Mums. Mother's Day lunch is an M&S feast of roast beef and sticky toffee pudding followed by the giving of gifts of framed photos of their families

Then we clambered on board the Honda and set off on another mystery tour. The weather was not even 'nice under glass' as gloom and cloud threatened rain, but despite this, the Mum & Peggy's conversation was in full flood. Peggy's about the latest happenings in Corrie and a convoluted explanation about complications with the collection of one of her umpteen prescriptions: Mum's about her TV telling her there was no signal, her shifts as a volunteer at Erddig Hall and how she has ordered more ready meals on the phone. Both of them chatting away quite happily on different planes….



Mum & Peggy enjoying their 'I never knew this was here!'
surprise outing....

As a treat for this special day our destination was a real gem - The British Ironworks Centre, Oswestry. I am sure that people pass this on their way to somewhere else (as it is on the very busy A5 leading to Shrewsbury and all routes south) and idly think that they will visit it someday, but never get around to it. Also they might think ‘Why would I want to visit an ironwork centre?’

But the first time you motor up the sweeping drive you are awed by the wings of massive iron eagles. Looking to your left you glimpse life sized metal animals of every description in the meadow and gazelles leaping over the fence. It is just wonderful and it is all free!

The centre provides metal work for home and garden and you can find unusual statues, benches, gazebos should you wish to buy. There is also a great showroom where you can buy anything from life sized figures to numbers for your garden gate - if it made if metal this is where you will find it. There is also a quirky little tea shop. Add to this specialist displays from onsite artists and a blacksmith and you have a very special way of losing a few hours.

Joy in the simple things.. a good cup of tea at
The British Ironworks café

I hope you will forgive the rather contrived title to today’s blog, but seeing the resilience of some of the figures sitting outside the Ironwork Centre I am reminded of them and I think it is somehow appropriate to describe my Mum & Peggy as Iron Ladies. They have lived through a war and often tell me how hard it was literally living with death and destruction and the very real fear that Hitler may be in charge very soon. The small daily hardships such as rationing which went on for many years after the war – how bananas and nylons were a luxury and a teaspoon of butter was your week’s ration. Peggy and Mum both agreed that the blackout was terrifying as you had to stumble your way through the dark if you were out at night.

They are now are waging their own battles with the challenges of aging, the loss of friends, the horrible ways that their bodies let them down, facing up to their twilight years. But spending an afternoon with them is not a gloomy experience, they face up to their lives with the fortitude and resilience they built up over those difficult years. They laugh as they realise how others see them old and decrepit – although they don’t feel it. They take joy in small things, cups of tea, a decent night on the telly and an afternoon out in good company – perhaps we should learn from them.

Abakhan & Peggy's Extraordinary Recall

This Sunday we set off for the Deeside Estuary to find a place which has a huge reputation amongst anyone who knits, sews or does any sort of crafting. In a former life, I was very involved in the Operation Christmas Child shoebox appeal and many of the volunteers who made goods for the shoeboxes loved this place and visited from all over the UK.

The Abakhan fabrics, hobbies and craft centre is the attraction of many coach parties and visitors from all the over the UK. It was started by the Abakhan family over thirty years ago and I remember it in my teens as a place where dressmakers flocked to as it sells some of its fabric by weight not length.

As well as a successful 'hobbyist' retail outlet it is also a site of considerable local historic interest, the company has taken great care to preserve the buildings resulting in the presentation of an award by children’s play area was added. With tea at £1.40 a cup it was a pleasing destination for us despite it being some years since my elderly companions have picked up a knitting needle.

It has to be said that the site – not too far from Saint Winifred’s Well (the fascinating story of which is for another post another time) is in a rather unlovely part of the coast, but I can’t help but admire the area’s determination to succeed. There is the Greenfield Heritage site, a regular Sunday Market and lots more on offer, despite the broken down buildings and the ugly hulk which has had so many set-backs that is ‘Fun Ship’ at Mostyn.

The drive home towards Chester is enlivened by the beauty of the estuary and the way that it has so

The Dee Estuary viewed from the A55 homewards
towards Chester

many colours embedded in its environs. Our conversation drifts and Peggy tells us about the happening in the lives of people she know and who she met that week.

I do greatly admire Peggy’s constant ability to remember people and their family connections. The other day she was sitting on a bus next to a middle-aged chap and passed the time of day. Then she said to him, “Are you Edna’s son?” and he looked at her in surprise and said that he was. Edna was someone she had known long ago and had actually recognised him as this woman’s son from over 50 years ago.

Sadly, apart from being a good way to make a bus journey go quickly, Peggy's talents go largely unnoticed and underused. She would have made a fantastic networker in today’s world and how she would have loved and taken advantage of LinkedIn, Friends Re-united and Face Book. But mostly we tend to ignore this tremendous flair she has for remembering all the people she has met in her life.

My husband, who has a very poor memory for faces and people, is always at a loss when she asks him if he remembers Rosemary who was in Primary School with him. Or tells us that the driver of the bus which took his brother Dave down to meet his cruise at Southampton was the nephew of Alan who used to be in school with him…..

Peggy, who seemingly remembers the
name of every person she has ever
met

Perhaps some of these connections will always remain buried only to be revived by people like Peggy who have no real way of recording them. Perhaps you suspect, as I do, the internet and digital media will somehow lose and swallow up our blogs and precious photographs.

Last week however, I saw a really good idea which goes a small way to solve the problem of lost family memories. Family Legacy Cards* are a way of encouraging people to write down their memories, family stories and history. They are printed on long-lasting - printed on special paper with a minimum longevity of 200 years. The cards have different themes and thought provoking front covers, intended to rouse different memories. Christmas sorted!

My lasting thought is that it is sad that are not more people like Peggy in the world as we may pass people in the street to whom we might have an interesting connection or to whom we are related and never even know about. I resolve to talk to people a bit more and stop being so insular, you never know I might discover a connection.....

 

*Disclaimer Disclosure: I have not been given any free goods to recommend this product nor have I any connection to the company.

The Sad Story of Uncle Frank and Tea at The Plassey

Last day of summer  - Sunday 31st August 2014

The further our 92 year old Mum gets from her childhood, the more she seems to retreat back to its memories. Over our Sunday roast chicken this week, she brought up (in the random way that memory does) the sad story of Uncle Frank. She and my mum in law Peggy’s stories often go back to Wrexham in the early 1930s when their respective families knew each other.



Nana & Pop - hard working business people
who lived to make money
 

Mum was the youngest of 8 children of staunch, cold and teetotal Roman Catholic parents (pictured) whose only focus (apart from having too many children) was their fish, fruit & veg business. My only memories of them are the smell of Pop's tobacco mingled with the smell of fish and a complete lack of physical contact or regard from either of them for me as a small child.

Of her 2 brothers, Frank was Mum's favourite by far. He was very popular and well-liked by everyone he met. Despite an early aspiration to go into the priesthood, he ended up running the transport for his father's business. Frank was fit, strong and handsome and played for a local football team. Peggy too remembers Frank as someone special – the unspoken implication was always that Frank was the direct antithesis of his parents and he was that way despite, not because of, his parentage.

Although he attracted the attention of many local girls, Frank remained unmarried, until at 31 he at last met a girl and told my Mum that he planned to marry her. But then he cut himself shaving, contracted septicaemia and died in Wrexham War Memorial Hospital all within a few days. Legend has it that the streets of Wrexham were lined with mourners such was the shock of his sudden death and his huge popularity.

In the great scheme of things (especially during the war that followed a few years later) there are probably many more terrible stories to tell, but every tragedy of loss is no less terrible simply because others exist. All deaths (ones like this so very common in those days before anti-biotics) still mar and strike at the heart of a family life and remain there forever with repercussions throughout the following years impacting the following generations.

On Sunday, with this sad tale still ringing in our ears, we set off along the country roads on the North East side of town, turning right to the Crewe-by-Farndon road through Worthenbury and turning right towards Bangor On Dee.  Despite this, on a sunny day such as this with the green lanes surrendering their late summer wares of butterflies, birds with bounding flight and brightly coloured petals, the ride was pleasant and enjoyable with roads free from traffic. I idly wondered whether Uncle Frank ever took his lorry along these lanes on his day off with his new love and how little and how much has changed since then.

Our final destination today was The Plassey. Uncle Frank might have driven past it and seen its


Still smiling - outside the new children's
playground at The Plassey Leisure Complex

Edwardian glory, or perhaps it was one of the places on his deliveries list? A former farm set around a striking large red brick Edwardian house, it has successfully made the transition to another business entirely - a 5 star leisure complex complete with pool, shopping arcade and much more. As well as an a la carte restaurant (imaginatively converted from the old shippon) there is a small snack bar where we had our refreshing cups of tea.

A small silence ensued and I reflected that although Frank’s sudden demise was sad, at least he did not end up old and frail with few friends and only memories of loved siblings for comfort - he will be forever young. I resolve once again to treat Mum’s memories with respect as she relates her past. It’s the least we can do for the older generation.