The Curious Things One Finds
My late wife’s great aunt Rita was an unusual character. She was an aunt by marriage and the engagement had lasted well upwards of twenty-five years. But things like that happened in the 1930s and 1940s.
I was reminded of her last night, when I watched a bit of the new Upstairs Downstairs. On the wall in one scene, was a piece of needlework showing flowers, that could have been done by Auntie Rita. It is very similar to three pieces that she gave my late wife and I will probably put on the wall at some time.
You might argue why would a sixty-three year-old man keep something like that in a modern house.
The reason is that Auntie Rita worked for something like the Royal School of Needlework and she taught Edward, Prince of Wales how to do it. She also is reputed to have told my mother-in-law, that he and Mrs. Simpson liked more than the odd drink.
So when I was going through my odd box, I came across this drown-sized coin of Edward VIII. Here is the obverse.
Obverse of Edward VIII Crown Coin
What is unusual is that Edward VIII is shown wearing a crown, which as he hadn’t had a coronation, wouldn’t have been shown on any official coins or medals. So I would assume it is some unauthorised souvenir.
The reverse is unusual too and unlike any other coin I’ve seen.
Reverse of Edward VIII Crown Coin
It is very art nouveau, which makes me feel it was just a crap souvenir produced by a speculator.
On the other hand, because of the needlework connection, it might be something different! If anybody has any ideas, please let me know, as I am a man with a terribly curious nature.
My late wife also had another connection to Mrs. Simpson. She regularly worked in the court, where Mrs. Simpson’s divorce was granted. In fact the adoption case mentioned in this post was handled in the same Court.
The Hackney Empire
The Hackney Empire is one of London’s great theatres and was rescued a few years ago with help from Grif Rhys-Jones, Alan Sugar and Harold Pinter.
The Hackney Empire
I must try to get to a show, especially as it’s about five bus stops away.
An Original Painting by M. Levett
I’ve finally got around to putting some paintings on the wall.
An Original Oil Painting by M. Levett
This painting is the first to go up and is an original oil by a barrister called Levett, who once came on holiday with us at our house in France. This is the story of the painting from the original post.
One holiday stands out. C and I took, one of her barrister colleagues, away to the house for a few days. He was and hopefully still is very outspoken. He would lie on that beach and say in a loud upper-class English voice, ‘Look at that lump of lard over there’ at some lady who’d been eating for two. Luckily, no-one understood his English or perhaps most were laughing with him.
That holiday too we went to a Michelin starred restaurant in Antibes, where the wine waiter was the spitting image of Stephen Fry, doing an impression of Lord Melchett from Blackadder, doing a cariacature of a wine waiter complete with tastevin. He never understood why we kept laughing at him.
The painting was a contribution to his lodging and very much a surprise to both of us. Especially in its quality. Note the label on the bottle says Chateau Melchett.
Gressingham Slow Cooked Duck
My son cooked this for me for Christmas yesterday and it was very nice. It was also gluten-free, in that none of the ingredients could by any means be made with gluten.
the strange thing was that their offices now are in Debach, a small village in East Suffolk, where we all lived for nearly twenty years. I was also nearly killed there, when the chimney went through my office in the Great Storm.
A Walk To and Around the Kingsland Basin
I walked to the Regent’s Canal this morning and took a quick saunter to and around the Kingsland Basin.
My Fourth Christmas Alone
That sounds bad, but the previous three were very good. In the first I actually helped out with the pensioners’ Christmas Dinner in Bury St. Edmunds and I think, if I’d been here a month or so, I’d have done something similar this year. In the intervening two years, I’ve spent it with either friends or family and today I shall be having lunch with my son and his friends.
One thing C and I always used to dread over Christmas was waking up to some really bad news, like the invasion of Afghanistan by the Russians, Cyclone Tracy, Taeyokale Hotel fire in Seoul or the Indian Ocean tsunami. The last was Boxing Day, but you get my jist.
So today we wake up to the news that a suicide bomber has killed dozens in an aid queue in Pakistan. As he died, the bastard who did it, didn’t even get any satisfaction to know that he done what he intended. But if that is what religion is about, then, I’m on a better track in saying that outside of the humanity and downright goodness shown by most of the world’s great religions, the rest is all about bigotry and hate and is best avoided and certainly to be actively discouraged.
I think in part C and I’s apprehension about Christmas were caused by some of our own little disasters. I think we ran out of gas at least twice, as we forgot to order it and on one Christmas the electric AGA died. That won’t happen this year, as if my son’s cooker fails, he can put everything in a car and get here in ten minutes. He claims to know how my cooker works and I can muddle through, so dinner might be late but it will happen.
We did have a couple of frosty Christmases though concerning C’s mother, who at times could be a bit difficult. I think I appreciate her problems more now, that I’m widowed myself. One Christmas she was staying with us and the film on Christmas Eve was Five Easy Pieces. She didn’t speak to us for forty-eight hours after that! She was also with us when the AGA failed and that had a similar result.
The best Christmas in some ways we had with C’s mother was when she collapsed in our flat in the Barbican with heart trouble. We felt really guilty, as she was taken into Bart’s Hospital, where they did a great job in sorting her out and giving her perhaps another ten years more of life, than she would have got otherwise. She also enjoyed being in Hospital over Christmas, as they looked after her so well and she could tell everybody about all of the myriad medical problems she’d suffered with in her life.
Along the Regent’s Canal to the Angel
I’m about a five or ten minute walk to the Regent’s Canal and today, I walked along the canal to the Angel as it was starting to get dark.
I can remember some of this area in the 1970s and to say it has improved is one of the biggest understatements, anybody can make. I even saw a Norwich City supporter enthusiastically spinning for pike.
This is the third time, I’ve lived near this canal.
In the 1970s C, myself and our young family lived in St. John’s Wood, just north of the canal and we would cross it by the London Zoo to get into Regent’s Park. You used to see the occasional narrow-boat or pleasure craft, but I don’t think there was any easy access to the tow-path. It would probably have been deemed to dangerous anyway to take three small children alongside the water. So when we decry Health and Safety for ruining our pleasure, there must be many more examples like the Regent’s Canal towpath, where different interests coexist together in complete safety.
And then, a few years later when we lived in the Barbican we would often walk up to the Angel to shop walking right past the City Road Basin on the canal. But sadly we never explored.
It is often assumed that canals like this ceased to be commercial arteries, when the railways appeared, but the Regent’s Canal was still busy with freight until the Second World War. It also has another purpose in London’s infrastructure in that under the tow-path for quite a way is one of the city’s main electricity distribution mains. Believe it or not, but the cables at kept cool, by using water from the canal.
A Media Survey for Virgin
I always fill in surveys honestly, so when Virgin asked me how my broadband, TV and phones were going I told them in that way. I gave their service a score of 3 out of ten and said I wouldn’t recommend it to anyone else. They did allow me to give reasons and this is what I said.
1. I am still waiting for my previous BT number to be transferred. If I have to change it, then it’ll be an expense of several hundred pounds to change web sites and stationery.
2. The Virgin Media box has a poor interface, which I find irritating compared to my previous Sky+ box and Freeview recorder. Despite my stroke, I have a fearsome memory and if say I want a channel, I just type in the three-digit number. But with your box you must click OK as well. As I only watch and listen to about six channels anyway, that extra button is a real irritant. I have not used the record function yet, as it seems way to complicated. Remember, I made my money as a software designer, so I know about interfaces and your box interface rates about 1 out of ten.
I would give you 1 out of ten, but the support staff have been trying hard to get my number transferred and I think they are getting as frustrated with the non-transfer as I am.
I do hate surveys which just take scores as these can’t give meaningful results, when customers have had problems. They seem to work on the we know best principle and if you don’t like it tough!
They also had another box for comments at the end of the survey. I said this.
Because I’ve had a stroke and can’t read small print or use the telephone too well, I’d like to be able to e-mail problems in. What is the e-mail please? I also need that number transferred. BT say you haven’t asked them to do it and you say that BT sy the number isn’t active and other things. Something is seriously wrong. Or is it me, I once tried to transfer a number from Vodafone to O2 and it ended up with Orange. Only when Orange phoned me, did I realise why my late wife’s new mobile phone didn’t work!
James – Blogging as the Anonymous Widower
It will be interesting to see if I get anything more than the standard response.
Christmas Shopping Completed
I got everything I needed in Oxford Street this afternoon. The strangest request I had was to get six lemons for Christmas Day from my son. In John Lewis, they were in fours, so he got eight.
Some parts of Oxford Street were seriously manic, but none as much so as Selfridges, where I was picking something up. John Lewis was quite quiet, but when I enquired about blinds for my house, the assistant said that a lot of their departments are quiet over Christmas and pick up in January. So as their sales are up four percent on last year, they are doing very well. Although the food department in the basement had the longest queue to pay, I’ve ever seen in a shop.
After I left Selfridges, I had intended to take the 30 bus which stops at the end of my road, but they seemed to be thin on the ground, so I took a 274 to the Angel, where I knew I’d be able to get any of five to get home.
The 274 bus brought back many memories, as it effectively took the route of the old 74 to Camden Town and then meandered towards the Angel. We’d used 74s many times when we lived in St. John’s Wood in the 1970s to get to and from Oxford Street and Knightsbridge. The route used Routemasters and you had to be quick to fold the double push-chair and stow it under the stairs, before someone else grabbed the space. C would regularly do the trip with three children under four on her own. Mothers today have it so easy.
The 274 will be a useful bus for me, as it connects so easily to where I live. Either I can take another bus from the Angel or a train from Cmden Road or Caledonian Road and Barnsbury to Canonbury and then walk.
Today I did the simple thing and got a bus down the Essex Road.
The Anonymous Widower 