Slark

Picture the scene, the early 70’s in the 5th form common room. Mini skirts and long hair. There is a record player and there are alternative music days. One day ‘hairy’ music, the next Reggae, there has to be or the record player will be confiscated…. The words to Slark popped into my head this morning, so I Googled Stackridge. They were always being played on the ‘Hairy’ days. I even went to see them at Malvern Winter Gardens.

In which men step out of the postcard album and start doing things

Not literally but you’ll see what I mean in a second or two

Last week on French TV we were shown a documentary about the rounding up and detention at the Velodrome in Paris of the French Jews during the war. It was very moving, especially as there were survivors participating in the studio. The film about the ‘Vel' d'Hiv Roundup’ has just been released. A young Jewish boy Joseph Weismann, managed to escape. He went to see the making of the film at the Velodrome. He had to go outside at first because he could smell the stench of thousands of people in a confined place for 5 days – it was still on his mind nearly 70 years later! All of the young people that escaped were rebels; a psychologist explained that sometimes it’s good thing to be the one who misbehaves.

Anyway back to the postcard album. The documentary also told us about the people that helped; I know that a lot of people think that the French did nothing during the war, but I can assure you that there were quite a few people quietly making life very difficult for their occupiers. If you look around all over France you’ll see plaques on walls near to where men (and women) were shot during the war. I used to live a few yards away from one, just an ordinary place outside the shops – nothing spectacular. The French citizens who helped the Jews are mentioned on the Wall of Names at the Shoah memorial in Paris.

In my post 'A True Story' in January I mentioned the father of the little girl, Odette, helping Jews to escape from the town where he was mayor. Because of the program last week I wanted to see if I could find his name, Paul Legras de Grandcourt, on the wall. I couldn’t online so I’ll have to go there to look, but I did find this and it’s in English too.

The second man to come out and start doing ‘real' things is Odette’s Uncle Justinien, sorry; Count Justinien de Clary. He took part in the Olympics as a trap shooter back in 1900. He and one of his friends were partly responsible for strange idea of the 1924 Olympics for winter sports….

That was quite an album

Accents

Have you ever wondered about the accents your blogging friends speak with? It occurred to me the other day when I realised that one blogger I know of doesn’t come from London as I thought, but the North. I’ve heard a few of you speaking on the radio and some of you make videos of yourselves, but what about the rest. Do you have a regional accent?

I have a midlands accent. Rob (R.P., of course) tries to correct me when I say ‘bath’ and ‘grass’, so I always ask him; what about ‘gas’? I was on a course once with a girl who told me that that I ‘talked posh’. She told me she was from Canvey Island - ‘can’t you tell?’

All of this from one little postage stamp

This week I was in Seville( not really, but through my postcards). I wanted to date a card so I looked at the postage stamp, a boy king? Let me see…

Alfonso XIII of Spain was king from his birth until he was forced to leave Spain in 1931. The interesting bit was that, during the first world war, Spain was a neutral country because Alfonso had family on both sides. He caught flu in 1918 and became seriously ill. Spain was the only country that had news other than the war and that is why it became known as 'Spanish' flu.

Alfonso was married to Princess Victoria Eugenie of Battenburg, Named after her Grandmother, Queen Victoria and Godmother the Empress Eugénie. Her full name was Victoria Eugenie Julia Ena. The Ena part is interesting because her mother had chosen Eua (Gaelic form of Eve) which was misread and so she was Christened Ena as her last name. She was known as ‘Ena’ by the public after that. They were both destined to marry other people, but despite everything (haemophilia being one of the problems) they married in May 1906.

The stamp? Around 1901.

The Bridges of Madison County

Back in 1995 I heard about the film being released and thought to myself ‘I must see that’. Last night I finally go to see it. It was worth the wait and I really enjoyed the bridges, the country side, the era and the relationship between the photographer and a lonely housewife. Rob enjoyed it too, though I didn’t really expect him to. He was quite thoughtful afterwards and asked me what I got up to when he went away on courses in the past. I reminded him that I had three small children to look after at the time. It reminded me that when he was away we used to put a chair in front of the front door at night. The idea being that if anyone tried to get into the house they’d knock over the chair and wake us up. We all slept better for it.

Most of my boyfriends before I met Rob were well travelled or had lived abroad, Rob had lived in Sweden and France before I met him. There must be something about travelling men….

Another postcard story

Rob is going through some of the first postcards we bought at auction 3 years ago. I remembered the family they came from because they have a Danish name – Our name is Norwegian and the Norwegian consulate was on the outskirts of the village when we first moved here, so Scandinavian connections always intrigue me.

I had an old postcard from Svendborg in Denmark of a ferry, nothing really special, so I prepared my keywords as usual and Googled them to see what the opposition is. The family name came up. How could Google possibly know who the postcard was addressed too? It turns out that the family were ship builders in Svendborg. It’s funny that I’ve taken 3 years to find it out. This is the kind of boat they were building

Soothe your troubles

Which is harder, to suffer pain or watch the ones you love suffer pain?

Yesterday I was listening to the music on my computer and I’d put all of the tracks into alphabetical order to make a change. Then this song from the Cranberries came up. I wasn’t really following the words, just listening to the voice and that wonderful Irish accent, it’s almost a hymn. So for the weekend I’m offering you balm for your troubled waters, something to soothe your pains.



Here are the lyrics anyway:

"No Need To Argue"

There's no need to argue anymore.
I gave all I could, but it left me so sore.
And the thing that makes me mad,
Is the one thing that I had,

I knew, I knew,
I'd lose you.
You'll always be special to me,
Special to me, to me.

And I remember all the things we once shared,
Watching T.V. movies on the living room armchair.
But they say it will work out fine.
Was it all a waste of time.

'Cause I knew, I knew,
I'd lose you.
You'll always be special to me,
Special to me, to me.

Will I forget in time, ah,
You said I was on your mind?
There's no need to argue,
No need to argue anymore.
There's no need to argue anymore.

Ouuu, ouuu, ouuuu...
Special.