NIGHT BOMBERS RAF HEMSWELL LINCOLNSHIRE 1943

On Saturday we drove to Wickenby Airfield, near Lincoln, as we have done before a few times.

This was once the home of two RAF bomber command squadrons: 12 and 626.  Lancaster bombers were housed and flown from RAF Wickenby during WW2 and from other airfields nearby.  Lincolnshire was known as Bomber County in those 1940s wartime days. 

RAF Hemswell was another bomber station not far away. It was here that a unique film was made, in colour, of the preparation for a night-time raid on Berlin by 40 Lancaster bombers and their crew of seven courageous men.

We all know much about the Spitfire and Hurricane fighters and rightly so.  These pilots undoubtedly deserve all the praise heaped upon them by Winston Churchill and others and I used to watch their vapour-trailing 'dog-fights' when I was a kid, but when one sees what these bomber crews went through I am overcome by emotion and pride. 

This 60 minute film is quite outstanding. Even if you have no connection with the war or the RAF it's so informative as to be un-missable in my opinion.  The average lifetime of a Lancaster bomber and crew was about 40 flying hours. Thousands were built and thousands were destroyed.  Only two survive in the UK, only one of those is still flying.

Here's the link: https://archive.org/details/NIGHT-BOMBERS

SECRET GARDEN - ADAGIO

Music is so subjective of course.  What is a masterpiece for one is just a noisy sound to others.

However,  this piece is to me so relaxing and beautiful I'm just hoping that somebody who stumbles upon this blog will find it worth a listen.

It is by Secret Garden and entitled Adagio. Best in FULL SCREEN - just click in the square bottom right-hand corner of the video screen.

My Brother David Has Died

After months of defying lung cancer David faded quietly and peacefully from this life at 17.40 today, 21st June 2014. The longest day. 

He showed amazing strength and resilience since he left hospital because there was no more that could be done to fight this cruel lung cancer.

His partner Margaret looked after him at home for months. He did not want to go into a hospice.  Living with pain-killing drugs, oxygen and help from the St. Christopher Nurses his life was a life that most of us wouldn't wish upon our worst enemy.

Now free of all worldly pain and indignity his passing is not only a relief for him but, I'm sure, his family and friends.

Well fought David.  The odds were totally against you and it took many hard rounds in the biggest fight of your life before the final bell called time.  Brave battle Dave. Goodbye.

Will You Donate Your Body to Medical Science?

My brother David is dying.  Cancer is the killer. He will not have a funeral when his life ends, which will be sooner rather than later.  He is in torment and death will be better for him than life.

He and his partner have already made arrangements for David's body to be donated to a London teaching hospital so that medical students can learn by using David in whatever way is required. 

They can delve into his illness, his lungs, his brain (he also has dementia now) or anything that will enhance their knowledge of the human body.

I think this is a wonderful way of leaving this wicked world. It obviates the need for lining the pockets of funeral companies, and of meaningless church services and all the paraphernalia that dying involves. 

It provides something USEFUL in life. It may provide valuable information about these diseases.  It is a way of giving something back as one pegs out, so to speak. I am all for it.

Well done David, and Margaret.  You are both suffering greatly at the moment but when it's all over you will know that out of the evil of cancer and dementia something GOOD will emerge because of this donation of David's body to science.

Amen to that, if you get my drift.

My Brilliant Daughter Clare

Clare is back on the road, actually and figuratively speaking.

She has kept clear of seizures for well over a year, thanks to the good epilepsy specialists in Hull hospital so she is now able to drive again.

Not only that, she has been sculpting her wonderful fairies again, as beautifully as ever.  She has gone a step further of late by sculpting a model of her Doge de Bordeaux, Marley, and is now in the process of making copies for other owners of this large breed.

Do have a look at her website, www.fairytasia.co.uk to view some of her amazing creations.

Another Brother About to Die

My younger brother David is seriously ill with lung cancer. He is at home waiting for the end.

The hospital was unable to help him any more. They did cut out the cancer in his throat but it had spread to both lungs. He was sent home, along with a hospital bed and other equipment, to be tended by his partner Margaret and the palliative care team.

My hope is that his pain and suffering will be mercifully short-lived. 

David is 72, about eight years younger than I.

My dear brother Geoff died five years ago, again of cancer.

My youngest brother Michael died aged 45, of a severe brain haemorrhage, thankfully swiftly with no lingering pain.

We humans generally take pity on our animal friends and pets and don't allow them to linger on in hopelessness and pain. Why do we not afford human animals the same privilege?

I do not know.  Do you?

Marley - Soppy Sloppy Doge de Bordeaux

Andy is my hard-working son-in-law, devoted husband to my daughter Clare.  Marley is one of the family pets. A six-year old Doge de Bordeaux with a lovely nature - who just loves to play, especially with Andy.

I love this sloppy-chops dog.  He is so joyously welcoming. Each time I approach the large gate he stands upright, front paws on the top of the gate, wagging his tail so hard I fear it might fly off!

As I enter the gate he shoots away to bring his 'tug-o-war' rope loop with fixed ball.  He so enjoys this game where I try to wrench this plaything from his iron-grip jaws.  I think he would play this simple game for as long as I could muster the strength - and I'd never win.

My daughter has other pets: a chameleon; a bearded dragon lizard; a fair-sized snake; a chinchilla; a tankfull of colourful fishes and a goodly supply of live locusts (to feed the lizards).

The two children also have their own lizard pets. 

I never know what new exotic creature might suddenly appear in this menagerie, but NOTHING would surprise me now.

Oh For the Wings of a Dove ...

Or any other bird ...

We took a drive on Sunday to a place near Lincoln: Wickenby Airfield. This used to be a WWII RAF bomber station but is now a privately owned airfield. It was a gloriously sunny day and there were quite a few small aircraft and microlights enjoying the freedom of the skies.

We parked the car (free) and headed for the old control tower, which is now a small café and, up a small staircase, a museum of RAF and aviation relics.

Pat had a delicious fresh-brewed coffee and I had a good cup of black tea. It was a delightful, if a bit shabby, environment. Reminded me of a small NAAFI but with no uniformed Brylcreem Boys having chips with everything meals.

I nipped upstairs to view the museum room: some really great uniforms of long gone pilots, books containing names of all the RAF types who were once stationed here and other interesting items. I spent about fifteen minutes in this old room, which was quite small, and exceedingly nostalgic.

Rejoined Pat in the "NAAFI" area and met some wonderfully interesting chaps there. One was waiting for his 15-year-old-son to touch down from his flying lesson. This lad is hoping to get his private pilot's licence (PPL) in the months to come and, eventually, join the RAF. His dad is paying for all this, and it's not cheap!

I mentioned to this guy that my first trip in a biplane was in 1947 at RAF Kenley, which was on a Sunday, and courtesy of the ATC, to which I belonged in those days. It was only a short 'flip' around the airfield at Kenley but so exciting.

He said he was in the ATC and dearly wanted to join the RAF, but failed the eyesight tests and was rejected. I can understand why he wants his lad to succeed in his mission. Good luck to them both; I sincerely hope everything goes tickety-boo in the months and years to come.

An even more interesting chat was with two middle-aged men who were about to leave the NAAFI-Café. I collared them as they were about to open the door - asking the taller of the two if he was ex-RAF. "No, I'm a lawyer" he said. "We've just flown in from Ipswich, about twenty minutes ago!" I was impressed, and exceedingly envious.

"That's our plane, over there..." he said, pointing to a smart mono-plane about twenty yards away. "We built it ourselves, from a kit we bought in the USA. Took us three years. Our wives restricted us to three days a week on the project! Otherwise we'd have finished it somewhat quicker." I was now immensely interested and doubly impressed.

"Where is the fuel tank?" I asked. 

 

"Oh, in the wings; holds enough fuel for over six hours flying."

"Have you been far in it?" I enquired (interrogated might be a better word!).

"Well, the Arctic was one interesting voyage" he said. He also mentioned a couple of other far-flung countries, including Africa. "We had to stop half-way to Africa; needed to pee you see..."

Honestly, I could have spent a day or two chatting to these two guys. They too seemed happy to talk about their wonderful hobby but said they had to see somebody in Norfolk in twenty minutes or so and they had to (literally) fly!

Had to say cheerio to them as I followed them outside and walked to within a few yards of their aircraft. They hopped in the side-by-side cockpit, and the engine started perfectly. They taxied away and soon climbed smoothly into the bright sunny skies. Soon they'd be having a cuppa in Norfolk - in less than half-an-hour!!!!!

What a simply wonderful way to spend one's free time. Zooming into the blue yonder. Hopping from one city to another. Free as a bird.

I can think of NOTHING better. Perfick, as The Darling Buds of May would say.

Must close. Bit of a flap on. Chocks away, bandits at twelve o'clock high.

 

Wizard prang. Over and out!

My Daughter, Brain Tumour, The Brainstrust

My beautiful and talented daughter, Clare, is managing extremely well - after a traumatic year or more of peaks and troughs in her battle with a brain tumour and the onset of epilepsy.

She was helped in no small measure by a wonderful lady, Helen, who created the charity Brainstrust.

This organisation has but one aim in life: to help and comfort all those who have been diagnosed with such tumours. 

Clare is now trying to give something to Brainstrust and has organised a raffle for one of her unique Fairytasia sculptures. 

Clare aims to raise at least £250 via £2 raffle tickets.  Once the £250 target has been achieved Clare will draw the raffle and the winner will receive the sculpture.

Donations (raffle tickets), via the charitable "Just Giving" website,  is Clare's preferred way of handling this as it is a dedicated,  trusted and straightforward way of operating this undertaking.

Clare's sculptures have sold for over £500 in recent years and £250 is a fair average for this particular creation.

Please have a look at this link: http://www.justgiving.com/Fairytasia and anything you can do to help Clare to help Brainstrust will be greatly appreciated.

Daughter Clare & Her *Gremlin*

Haven't been posting anything for some time now but decided to give a brief update on my lovely daughter's situation.

She is due to have another MRI scan in about three weeks from now. She has had a second opinion from a London brain surgeon who has confirmed that her tumour of the pineal gland is not suitable for surgery. I'm quite content with that opinion and I think Clare is too. The tumour is deep in the centre of her brain and the risk is far to great for surgery.

The neurologists will keep a careful watch on what is going on via scans. Hopefully these scans will be re-assuring.

Clare's epilepsy is a problem in that the initial drug (Keppra) did not suit her because of the side-effects and she is now on a different drug and seems to be OK-ish with the new medication.

Clare continues to remain very strong and positive. She cannot, of course, drive her car any more - nor can she do any of her wonderful sculptures. She will, we are sure, resume her work one day.

We are so very proud of her. We love her so much.

Beloved Daughter & Her 'Gremlin'

What seems like ages ago, (though in fact fairly recently), my lovely young daughter was diagnosed with a brain tumour. Grade 1 tumour of the pineal gland. Smack bang in the centre of the brain!

She sees a neurosurgeon at the specialist hospital in Hull on Monday 28 March. Another MRI scan, this time with the addition of a contrast dye, will be taken. Then the surgeon's course of action will be decided on.

My 'Gremlin Girl' has started a blog - the first time she's joined the Blogosphere and you can pop in and read it HERE

I went for a walk through the deep snow yesterday to hand deliver a 26th wedding anniversary card to Lord and Lady Haddington. Took me a good while and the walk, in Wellington boots, was quite exhausting. It was a real effort to drag the back foot out of the snow to take the next step forward.
Having reached the west wing and popping the card into the letterbox I took a much longer 'roundabout' way back, via the west drive (which had been snow-ploughed) and a fair walk back on the roadway to the east gates, a few yards from my cottage.
I had a really strong cup of Assam tea soon after I'd stumbled into the back door. Oh what a welcome and reviving beverage that was!
My successor at Mellerstain, Angus, had a head-on crash whilst he was taking two of the cleaners back home on Monday. They were all taken to hospital for a check up. I am so happy to say that they were all returned safely to their homes with just some nasty bruises and well shaken up. Black ice was the culprit; treacherous stuff. Angus's car is a write-off but insurance will cover that loss; no significant injuries is the main blessing in this event, an event that is probably being replayed by many others in this awful cold spell.

Wintry Weather Continues in the Borders.

Just a swift update on our early wintry conditions.
No letup in sight for a few days more, worse luck!
We had one of our local farmers clear the little lane running along the 11 cottages in our remote village. Looks as though we will need further such help soon as it is snowing heavily right now.
Never mind; I'm sure global warming will soon return!

Long time, no show. Blame the snow!
We're locked inside our remote area as the roads are VERY dodgy.
Hopefully it will not be too long before we are released from this white prison.
And we've had another 8 or 9 inches overnight, so worse today.

Fun Guy ... Sort of

On my way to get some victuals and stuff from Tesco's in Galashiels I took a short ride through the grounds of Mellerstain and spotted some interesting-looking fungi.

One can often find a variety of such stuff growing all over the estate. When I lived in the east wing of the house here we had a group come every year, usually about September/October, on what they called a 'fungi foray'. I used to collect some mushrooms, which I knew were perfectly safe to eat, and very tasty they were too.

Brief Update

Hello again. It's been one of those months: my wife, Pat, had a second hip replacement and I'm now not only chief cook, bottlewasher, sweeper-upper etc., but full-time nurse and carer. It's now two weeks since her right hip replacement op and the next few weeks will be difficult, to put it mildly.

The only son and heir of Lord Haddington, Lord George Binning, finished uni at Glasgow and had a terrible accident about five weeks ago. He fell 50 ft from a bridge onto concrete and ended up in Glasgow Infirmary; luckily not the mortuary! Some serious injuries but so happy to report that he is now recovering in the west wing of Mellerstain.

His dear Dad, the Earl, has also had some very disturbing diagnoses about a couple of health problems and is in London today, seeking advice from a specialist. I do not want to say more than this at present and we are all keeping fingers crossed for some good news soon.

Another member of the peerage, the Duke of Roxburgh who lives in Floors Castle, Kelso, about 8 miles down the road, is being treated for throat cancer. He is only in his fifties, so the news is that the prognosis is good, so I understand.

The recent passing of our friend and blogger, Barry, was also terribly sad. He put up a gallant and persistent struggle and remained hopeful throughout his long and courageous battle. We shall miss his beautiful posts.

Things can get better with time and I'm sure my next posting will be more upbeat. Take care my friends and always put your best foot forward. That's what I keep telling my Pat! She's almost a bionic woman now!

Art Exhibition Mellerstain July 10th 2010

This morning my wife, Pat, and I were invited to the annual art exhibition in the basement corridors of Mellerstain House. Quite a decent crowd accepted the invitation and, as usual, it was an enjoyable hour or so. Glass of vino, nibbles and so forth, and meeting up with some faces we've not seen for a year or more!

I took a few sneaky video shots and in the first few seconds, if you're quick, you will see me, in the large hall mirror, surreptiously videoing! Pat can also be seen pointing to one of the artworks and, a few seconds later, you can spot her looking at a painting on the left wall. And finally, in the last few seconds, you'll see a shot of the old Adam bathroom. Water for this 'facility' came from a spring under the front steps to the house.

Pat has to go to Borders General Hospital this Monday for pre-admission checks prior to her admission on 26th July for a new right hip! The operation, more than four hours duration, due to be performed on 27th July. So, a bit of a scary time ahead but hopefully it will make life a good deal easier for Pat once it's all over and done with.

Pheasant Snoozing

It's just gone 11 a.m. today, Friday 18th June 2010. Looking out of the sitting room window I can spot a long feather pointing upwards under the old Ash tree. I investigate: it's one of those dozy pheasants, having a sleep on the pile of grass cuttings I pile up after mowing. These birds, though quite handsome, are so stupid. We slaughter many of them as they decide to run across the road just as cars are speeding towards them. Sometimes they seem to wait for a car or lorry to come charging down the narrow country lane and then they play 'chicken'. Many of them never make it to the other side of the road, unfortunately. Anyway, these birds are always foraging around our gardens. Sometimes they'll take a fancy to some of the plants that may be growing, or they'll just scratch around for seeds and stuff. I took this video to show just a sample of Ferdy the Pheasant having a nap on a pile of grass clippings. Exciting, innit!

"Sam" on the 86 bus to Edinburgh

A visit to the Royal Infirmary in Edinburgh today was brightened when I met sad-eyed Sam, the mixed breed dog on the No. 86 bus from Dalkeith to Edinburgh. I sat opposite to Sam and his mature male owner and simply had to say "Hello" to them both.

Sam has the most appealing face. His eyes, however, seemed just a little sad to me. I gently and carefully stroked his head; he seemed to appreciate the attention. His eyes now appeared to smile at me. He was such a lovely bus passenger.

Sam has this sort of 'ragamuffin' look about him. His coat is dark gray or even black in parts but generously mingled with silvery gray strands. Handsome in an understated way, in my view.

His owner told me that he'd obtained Sam from a rescue centre after his own 13-year old dog had died of a tumour about six months ago. Sam had been subjected to much abuse and beatings by his former keeper(s) and was a very nervous animal at first. A few months ago he would, according to his owner, have probably thought I was going to hit him and he might have reacted by snapping at my hand. But now he was so well behaved, quiet, gentle and obviously glad to be with a decent new owner.

What sort of sick individual could be cruel to such an appealing animal like Sam, or to any animal? It certainly makes me feel angry to think of anybody ill-treating any animals. I'd label them "Scum" - but that would be an insult to scum!

Anyway, thank you Sam for making an otherwise dreary bus journey a lot brighter for a short while. (Sorry about the racket of the bus engine!)

The Absent-minded Circuit Judge

In the UK, as in other places I guess, we have a system whereby judges travel around the country to hear court cases. They are well-paid and well looked after in their work.

This particular judge had to travel from London to a county court some many miles away. He was chauffeured to court along with his trusty clerk.

Arriving at the county court he settled into his chambers and suddenly realised he had completely forgotten to bring with him the main 'brief' of the case he was about to try.

He called his clerk and said: "I've forgotten the brief! What the devil can I do?"

"Fax it up Sir." said his clerk.

"Yes, it does rather ..." muttered the judge.