Thursday, 22 January 2009
The Oven Shelf
How enterprising our parents used to be. Without the aid of modern technology they still managed to come up with a solution to every problem. I don't know whether this story was peculiar to our house or whether other people did the same thing. When I was growing up we lived in a two up and two down cottage. The only heat in the house came from an open fire in the living room. It was part of the old black lead grate, named so, because it was polished with black lead to clean it. The fire was in the middle of the grate with an oven on the left and a boiler on the right. Not only did the fire heat the room but it also heated the oven for cooking and the boiler for hot water. The upstairs of the house had no heat at all. There was a small fire place in one bedroom but this, for some reason, was never used. Going to bed on a real cold winter's night was not an experience to look forward to. Neither, in those days, did you have a nice warm duvet to snuggle down under. However, even on the coldest of nights I never ever got into a cold bed. About half an hour before going to bed mother would take one of the shelves out of the oven. When it had cooled down to a bearable temperature she would wrap the oven shelf in a piece of cloth and put it in the bed. By the time I went to bed, clutching a rubber hot water bottle, the oven shelf had served it's purpose and warmed the bed through. It was then removed and I climbed into a nice warm bed, with my hot water bottle for on-going heat. My third line of defence was our family cat Fluffy, a long haired grey Persian. He knew where it was going to be warm and slept in the bed with me. Between the oven shelf, the hot water bottle and Fluffy I just about managed to stay warm until morning. Sounds daft, but it worked!
Brainteaser - Wednesday's Answer
The answer to the Brainteaser that appeared in yesterday's Journal is as follows:
On a chess board
Kings & Queens, Bishops and Rooks. Easy if you know the answer!
On a chess board
Kings & Queens, Bishops and Rooks. Easy if you know the answer!
Check You Haven't Got Worms
I was quite alarmed when I read the following report. Sky news claimed on Monday that a computer virus that attacks Microsoft Windows is spreading at an alarming rate. It is reportedly affecting thousands of UK offices including Ministry Of Defence computers. The virus is known as Conficker, Kido or Downadup. The virus was first identified last October with Russia, China, Brazil and India worst affected. The worm uses a predefined set of passwords against those being used on other computers. If it finds a match it will automatically download malicious programs from hackers websites with devastating effect. Eddy Willems, a security analyst, advises users to check their computer's security to ensure that their anti-virus, operating system and firewall are up to date. Remember, computer viruses can give you a much bigger headache than any flu virus.
Wednesday, 21 January 2009
Beautiful Flowers And Gifts
Thinking of sending someone some flowers this Spring? Then take a look at the fantastic choice being offered by Marks & Spencer. These arrangements are really special, a bit more expensive than some you can buy, but in my opinion these are worth the little bit extra. What's more all prices include delivery. Order by 5 pm for next day delivery. To make your gift really special you can add one or more of their 'little extras' which include chocolates, glass vase, silver-plated photo frame, teddy bear or champagne. M&S offer 3 easy ways to order, over the internet at http://www.marksandspencer.com/ , by telephone or simply order in store. So, if you want to send someone special, something special, for Valentine's Day, Mother's Day or just to cheer them up take a look at these great M&S gifts. The Spring selection is available for delivery from 7th January to 31st March.
Spectacular, Rather Than Significant
The following story is a piece I wrote for the local area magazine, it was published in the MACLA News Magazine Summer 2005 edition. It is a true story. I was 4 and a half years old at the time.
It was a lovely Sunday evening in mid-July, St Swithin's day 1945. We were hurrying along the bottom road to Blankney, myself, my mother and my aunt. There were other people too, mainly in small groups. Everyone had an urgency in their step and there was much excited murmuring. Where we were going I was not sure, but it was clear even to a four and a half year old boy, that the reason for our hurried journey held great significance. I remember my mother grabbing me by the hand to make sure I kept up and I was being dragged along, reluctantly, my feet barely making contact with the road. A few minutes earlier I had been playing happily in the yard at our home in Drury Street, Metheringham but my constant pleading to return fell on deaf ears. On reaching the long sweeping bend into Blankney we followed a path which led through the woods and onto the drive that links Blankney Hall with Metheringham station. As we headed up the drive in the direction of Blankney village I became aware of muffled voices in the distance. Turning left off the drive through a gap in the trees the reason for our impromptu walk suddenly became frighteningly clear. There before us stood Blankney Hall, huge flames leaping into the night air, through what a few hours before had been the roof of this stately building. Not being aloud to go any further we joined a throng of people standing at the north-east corner of the beautifully ornate sunken gardens that fronted the Hall. I clearly remember a strange silence as the large crowd of onlookers stared at the burning building in stunned disbelief. Being a small boy the event to me was spectacular rather than significant. We must have stayed for quite some time, watching the frenzied activity around the weakened building, because the light began to fade and the flames, now much smaller, were a vivid orange against the night sky, pierced by what was left of the charred roof structures.
The fire had evidently started around 5 pm. and was finally contained at 8 pm. The evening service at the church was cancelled and the Rector assisted Lady Londesborough, who was still living in a few rooms at the south end of the Hall. The most likely cause of the fire was thought to be an electrical fault in a blanket cupboard situated at the north end of the hall which at the time was occupied by WAFF's. The Hall had been commandeered by the Royal Air Force during the second world war and used as an operations room under the control of Digby Camp. The WAFF's were safely evacuated and most of their belongings were salvaged.
Despite the efforts of fire crews from RAF Digby, Lincoln, Sleaford, Billinghay, Metheringham and Woodhall Spa the Hall was damaged beyond repair. Sadly, sixty years on, nothing remains of the once magnificent Hall and for all intents and purposes it may never even have existed.
It was a lovely Sunday evening in mid-July, St Swithin's day 1945. We were hurrying along the bottom road to Blankney, myself, my mother and my aunt. There were other people too, mainly in small groups. Everyone had an urgency in their step and there was much excited murmuring. Where we were going I was not sure, but it was clear even to a four and a half year old boy, that the reason for our hurried journey held great significance. I remember my mother grabbing me by the hand to make sure I kept up and I was being dragged along, reluctantly, my feet barely making contact with the road. A few minutes earlier I had been playing happily in the yard at our home in Drury Street, Metheringham but my constant pleading to return fell on deaf ears. On reaching the long sweeping bend into Blankney we followed a path which led through the woods and onto the drive that links Blankney Hall with Metheringham station. As we headed up the drive in the direction of Blankney village I became aware of muffled voices in the distance. Turning left off the drive through a gap in the trees the reason for our impromptu walk suddenly became frighteningly clear. There before us stood Blankney Hall, huge flames leaping into the night air, through what a few hours before had been the roof of this stately building. Not being aloud to go any further we joined a throng of people standing at the north-east corner of the beautifully ornate sunken gardens that fronted the Hall. I clearly remember a strange silence as the large crowd of onlookers stared at the burning building in stunned disbelief. Being a small boy the event to me was spectacular rather than significant. We must have stayed for quite some time, watching the frenzied activity around the weakened building, because the light began to fade and the flames, now much smaller, were a vivid orange against the night sky, pierced by what was left of the charred roof structures.
The fire had evidently started around 5 pm. and was finally contained at 8 pm. The evening service at the church was cancelled and the Rector assisted Lady Londesborough, who was still living in a few rooms at the south end of the Hall. The most likely cause of the fire was thought to be an electrical fault in a blanket cupboard situated at the north end of the hall which at the time was occupied by WAFF's. The Hall had been commandeered by the Royal Air Force during the second world war and used as an operations room under the control of Digby Camp. The WAFF's were safely evacuated and most of their belongings were salvaged.
Despite the efforts of fire crews from RAF Digby, Lincoln, Sleaford, Billinghay, Metheringham and Woodhall Spa the Hall was damaged beyond repair. Sadly, sixty years on, nothing remains of the once magnificent Hall and for all intents and purposes it may never even have existed.
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