Party Time
I celebrated my birthday last week. Yes, I told the grandchildren, even people of my age still have birthdays – and get older – every year.
In fact that weekend saw no fewer than three parties, the last being for granddaughter Effie, who is now six and therefore declares her favourite number is six. Last week her favourite number was five.
I very much enjoyed my birthday, and going out for a meal – it’s becoming a bit of a habit of late – with the family.
Unfortunately this excluded the Dutch contingent as my youngest, her husband, children, and mother-in-law did not arrive until the small hours of the following day.
But that following day was scheduled for my party and that was followed, just hours later, by a superb Halloween party given by friends.
Ooing and aahing at all the ghostly decoration both outside and inside the house, we wondered just how long it took the family to set it all up. What a chore!
However we decided it is not a chore but their hobby, and hobbies don’t count as work however time consuming they may be. Like gardening.
The party was fancy dress and my daughter had the bright idea of our family going as the cast of the brilliant television series Ghosts. My father’s army uniform turned son-in-law into The Captain, and his wife made an excellent Thomas Thorne, the lovesick poet.
Pat Butcher, the youth group leader shot by an arrow, presented another daughter with an easy get-up, apart from the arrow through her neck making swift moves somewhat hazardous for those near her.
I played the easy part of Lady Stephanie “Fanny” Button, aka the Grey Lady. All simple get-ups which cost us not a penny.
I recently commented on going through old family photographs and cine films. One of the old photos showed my mother, almost a hundred years ago, in fancy dress and demonstrating that a little lateral thinking on such things goes a long way.
She was representing The Order of the Bath with towel turban around her head, bath robe, and garlanded with soaps and loofahs. Simple and effective. Nowadays people tend to buy costumes, particularly for children.
As they are for children, they get one season of wear – unless they can be handed down to younger siblings.
There was the usual seasonal warning of the flammability of many such clothes and reminders for us to check on the labels that the material is flame retardant.
Another example of our strange English language – flammable and inflammable mean much the same. Both to to be handled with care.
Many churches dislike the Halloween celebrations which have plainly lost sight of the fact that it is All Hallows’ Eve – the day before All Saints’ Day – and are organising a Light Party for children on 31 October.
It is not just saints, known and unknown, who are celebrated by All Hallows – in some places the celebration of the lives of the ancestors is a big thing, particularly in Mexico with The Day of the Dead.
My grandchildren enjoy watching the animated film Coco, about the Mexican Day of the Dead celebrations. That encapsulates the the celebration of ancestors nicely.
Lest We Forget
Remembrance Day is another Day of the Dead, when we remember members of the armed forces who have died in the line of duty.
It is marked on 11 November which is when the hostilities of the First Word War ceased on the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month in 1918.
Unfortunately there have been many wars since then, and many more war dead to honour – and not only those who wore uniform.
Lest We Forget is the moving story of Britain's war memorials and the subject of a talk by Andrew Davies to The Arts Society Mayford (TASM) on Thursday 14 November at 10.30am at the Welcome Church, 1-5 Church Street West, Woking GU221 6DJ.
Guests are welcome, for a fee of £10 per lecture, but are asked to contact the membership secretary, Richard Brace, by emailing him in advance on [email protected]
They also represent our largest collection of public art – more than 1,300 are listed and the talk will explore the story of our war memorials, including such masterpieces as Sir Edwin Lutyens' Cenotaph and monumental Thiepval Gate and CS Jaggers' Royal Artillery memorial at Hyde Park Corner, and the Scottish War Memorial in Edinburgh.
Especially memorable is the work of the Commonwealth (Imperial) War Graves Commission and the new National Arboretum in Staffordshire. The Military Cemetery at Brookwood contains 1,601 Commonwealth burials of the First World War and 3,476 from the Second World War.
It is a very moving place and I have seen a grown man weep at the site.
I'm Bored
It is not only children during school holidays who mutter those words – adults do too: often it is the newly retired who suddenly find themselves not having to get up at a certain time, catch a train at a certain time, and be somewhere at a certain time.
Now they have freedom. But freedom to do ...what?
“The devil finds work for idle hands” is a well-known saying – and has proved true for many years. Like so many well-known phrases and sayings its origins are somewhere in the past. My granny? Dickens? Shakespeare? The Bible?
That last has something very similar in the book of Proverbs: “Idle hands are the devil's workshop.”
Idle hands might meet their salvation at Woking’s Voluntary Sector Fair, Working Together for Woking, on Thursday 7 November at Woking Leisure Centre, which brings together more than 80 voluntary groups and organisations.
The event is the largest local networking opportunity of its kind, inviting groups to connect and strengthen the range of support on offer to Woking residents. It is also free to the public to drop in anytime from 10am until 2pm.
When I attended one of these fairs I was astonished at the number, and variety, of groups who would like people to help them out in some way or another.
Whatever your talents you would find someone who would be delighted to receive them. It could well be something to do with what you did in the past: many groups could do with an accountant, or a secretary, or someone to meet and greet people whether they be the very young or the elderly.
This is a something for everyone get together.
I note that Chaucer had something to say on the subject: “Dooth somme goode dedes, that the deuel, which is oure enemy, ne fynde yow nat vnocupied.”
That's telling you!
Getting to Know You
If television costume dramas are to be believed – and we all know full well they are not – it would seem that a newcomer to an area should go through the rigmarole of presenting their card to the neighbours.
Not just one card, for in the times of which Jane Austin wrote if a gentleman paid a call on a lady he should leave his card behind.
If no one was “At Home” – and that did not necessarily mean that everyone was out, just that no one was at home to him – then he would turn down a corner of his card to signify that he had called in person.
He was obliged to leave two cards: one for the lady of the house and one for the gentleman.
Have things got easier? Not if you look at some of today's social media posts where people wonder how they should make contact with new neighbours.
Mumsnet suggests that should you see new the neighbours you say “Hi” and/or post a card through their door welcoming them to the road and giving your name and house number.
Evidently this then poses a quandary for the new neighbour – should they write a note and put it through the door of those who welcomed them? Should they pop round and introduce themselves in person? Should they wait and see what happens?
One tongue in cheek suggestion as to how to make your mark, as an incomer, on your new neighbour was to “Buy them a new car as a gift in return...nothing extravagant, a Range Rover or such like should suffice.”
Yes, that would make the whole street know of you but not, I think, in a good way!
We have recently had new neighbours move in and they took advantage of an invitation to join the local WhatsApp group to introduce themselves. I shall shortly pay them a visit – once I've put this page to bed.
What started this whole train of thought was meeting a “new” person at the church coffee morning. She was on her own and had seen the notice inviting people to come in for coffee and cake; she was welcomed and introduced around the room.
She works locally so now if any of us should visit her place of work she will be greeted as a neighbour.
When a new semi-retirement home was opened in the area several of the new residents found their way to that same coffee morning. Many had moved to the area upon retirement to be closer to family members already resident here.
I should emphasise here that these church coffee mornings are not recruiting stations for the relevant church but are successful at recruiting new friends.
Some men meet new people in the pub but even in this day and age many women do not like the idea of going into a pub on their own – a coffee morning is much simpler.
Of course, another way to meet people is to volunteer to help out at one of the local groups. But I've already mentioned that, haven't I?