Quilted trees

Arboretum is back from its visit to Margaret quilter, and I couldn't be happier with it.

The quilting design shows more in the light blocks, as dark green thread was used.  The quilting pattern is, so Margaret tells me, called 'ebb tide' - but it evokes wind blowing through trees, to me.  The back is quilted with dark brown thread which blends so well with the fabric that it's difficult to photograph, so I didn't....but perhaps will when it's bound and finished.

Embroidery is continuing on the label, several lines have been done but there are still a few to go.  It's been my TV project for a few nights, however last night's program choice was so dreary that the TV stayed off and my book came out instead.  Goodness gracious, there is a lot of sport on free TV....far too much, for a non-sporty like me.  Kevin usually drops off to sleep so he doesn't notice if it's on or off anyway; watching through one's closed eyelids is a bit tricky.

Yesterday afternoon's choir concert went off very well, nice things were said to us and about us, and our audience seemed to really enjoy it.  Afternoon tea was excellent (much of it was provided by choir members) and was so generous that the organisers from the cancer charity plated up the leftovers and sold them off for the traditional 'gold coin donation' - i.e. a $1 or $2 coin per plate, each containing several pieces of something yummy.  I had some coins with me, so left a few behind and brought home a couple of plates of goodies.  My contribution was lemon squares, a recipe found many years ago on the web site of a now-closed quilt store in Ontario, Canada, which has become a favourite of ours.  

It tastes as good as it looks, too.

A phrase which has long puzzled newcomers to Australia is 'bring a plate'.  It is, of course, understood that the plate will contain a contribution to afternoon tea (or morning tea or lunch, depending on the time of day) but many a newcomer has turned up with an empty plate, expecting to have it filled!  At the last couple of Thursday rehearsals we were reminded "don't forget to bring a plate" to which some wag usually added "with something on it".  In days gone by it was usually "ladies bring a plate and gents bring a bottle".....which, back then, meant a bottle of beer.

Words have been read, songs have been sung.  Stitches have been sewn, but I don't think many were knitted as we had - for once - no appointments to attend.  We hunted and foraged, so we won't starve....although I have no idea what we are going to eat tonight.....no doubt something will come to my brain.  I just wish a food idea would come to Kevin's brain, for a change, but unfortunately there is little chance of that.

"The groomsmen's duties.

The groomsmen at the door of the reception room offer themselves as escorts to parties, who arrive slowly from the church, conducting them to the bridal party, and there presenting them by name.  This announcement becomes necessary when two families and two sets of friends are brought together for the first time.  If ladies are present without gentlemen, they accompany them to the breakfast or refreshment room, or provide them with attendants."

For many years a wedding reception was known as a 'wedding breakfast', because weddings often took place in the early morning.  Breakfast was then served before the happy couple set off on their wedding journey, with many daylight hours for travelling.  Even when most weddings moved to the afternoon, the wedding meal continued to be known as 'the wedding breakfast'.

Enjoy your days!

Jennifer

Midwinter sunshine

Today is the winter solstice, the shortest day of the year...and the longest night.  The sun is shining brightly, but the warmth isn't ~quite~ there.  It's definitely not the day to be prancing around in shorts and bare feet, that's for sure.

This is today's view looking over the back gate.

Not so long ago there was no lush green grass, everything was dead and brown....but we have had good rain in recent weeks, and this is the result.

Looking to the left below we can see one of the cows from the other side of the hill, who roam freely from time to time.

Lots of lovely shades of green!

During World War II all this land was occupied by the Australian Army, and many soldiers spent time in camp here - my father included.  When I was a child, some of the old wooden huts which had been used to house soldiers were still in use as social housing; there was a great shortage of houses for all those returning servicemen (in those days they were nearly all men) and their young families.  In the early days of their marriage my parents lived with my maternal grandparents, certainly until after I was born....and, I think, until my brother was born just 13 months later.

When we decided to buy this house I had forgotten all about that connection, it only came to mind when I was looking at the photographic history of the town on my bookshelf.

How has everyone been this week?  We have been drifting along; the backing pieces for Arboretum have not yet been joined, but that's on the list.  Stitches have been sewn and knitted.  Words have been read, many words (probably the reason why those backing pieces haven't been joined, if truth be known).  Songs have been sung and plinked.  My troublesome foot spent time with a physio but is feeling better every time it goes, so we are spreading the appointments further and further apart.  We hunted, foraged and gathered.

Much time has been spent on the phone trying to make the appointments that Kevin needs.  It's frustrating to be left on hold until a call drops out - especially as the hold 'music' is not something to which I voluntarily listen - or being told, "no, we're not the people he needs to see, you need to talk to so-and-so else".  No doubt there will much more time in future spent in the same manner, time in which I could be sewing, or knitting, or reading.  

Many years ago I spent six months working in the city - the heart of the Big Smoke - I was the telephonist, and one day had occasion to hear their 'on hold' music.  Much to my surprise it wasn't the latest hits, or even a spiel for the company (which supplied legal stationery and software), it was music of the Baroque era, early to mid 1700s, which is music I really like.  When I mentioned it to one of my colleagues he said that studies had shown that, when people have to spend time on hold, the music which puts them in the best frame of mind is Baroque music - who knew that?  Not me!

All I can say is, it doesn't happen these days......

Continuing on with our bridesmaids-less wedding.

"The bride leaves the altar, taking the bridegroom's right arm, and they pass down the aisle without looking to the right or left.  It is considered very bad form to recognize acquaintances by bows and smiles while in church.

The bride and bridegroom drive away in their own carriage, the rest following in their carriages."

These days it is smiles all around as the happy couple leave the church.....and oh, how perfectly spiffing it would be to have one's own carriage.

Enjoy your days!

Jennifer

Melting, melting.....

The past week has been almost unbearably hot, with many towns seeing record-breaking temperatures.  While our town didn't see records tumble (to quote a favourite media cliché) it has been quite nasty, at times, and we will be glad to see the last of it.  We even have hopes of some rain later; the heatwave has negated any benefit from rain of two or three weeks ago.

As a result almost nothing of consequence happened in the sewing room, certainly nothing worthy of a photo.  The moose table topper is now layered and pinned ready for quilting, which will be done during the coming week once cooler temperatures arrive; my brain turns to mush and I can't concentrate in such extreme heat as we have had.  

Trawling through the photo vault has yielded some gems.

During our last visit to Canada we stayed with friends on Vancouver Island, and while there we visited the Northern Island Wildlife Recovery Centre where we made the acquaintance of this interesting bird.

You have to smile at that comical face, don't you!  It was a large owl which came to the Centre after being hit by a vehicle; due to its damaged wing it could no longer fly and hunt, so it was living out its best life and educating visitors while doing so.

The year before we shook the dust of the Big Smoke from our heels we took ourselves on an outing to Mount Tomah Botanic Garden, which specialises in cool climate plants.  I don't remember the name of this plant but it was spring, so perhaps those autumn-like colours are its new spring growth; many Australian native plants have pale pinkish/bronze colouring for their new shoots.

The visitor centre had a display of waratahs, our state floral emblem.....I love waratahs.  There was a children's colouring competition, a display of individual blooms, mostly red but with some white - yes, white waratahs really exist - and floral arrangements featuring waratahs.

A close up of a vivid red waratah surrounded by its serrated leathery leaves, with a few fern fronds peeking in at the side.

On my bookshelf is a slim book about the waratah as a decorative feature, and very interesting it is too.  Back in the late 1800s there was a great interest in using Australian flora and fauna as decorative motifs, and the waratah was up there with the best;  you could decorate your home with waratahs carved in wood for your fireplace, printed on wallpaper for your wall or fabric for your curtains, painted on plates or cups to decorate your table....just about anything you desired could be decorated with waratahs, and very exuberant they were too.

Words have been read, many words, because staying out of that fierce heat with one's nose buried in a book was one way to spend several hot days.  No stitches have been knitted.  More diamonds have been cut for hand-piecing, and hand-piecing of diamonds continues.  At this rate, I will be able to open my own gem mine in no time at all. We braved the heat to go out for food.

In recent days the socials, as they seem to be called, have been alight with plaintive pleas of "can anyone hem my daughter's school dresses before school goes back next week?".  While I realise that not everyone has advanced or even basic sewing skills, if you have a daughter or two who wear dresses which need to have hems taken up and let down, would it not be an idea to learn some sewing skills in order to do so?  It's not haute couture, after all, just very basic sewing for which basic supplies are needed, and would save you money in the long run.  Basic sewing used to be taught in schools, to my knowledge it no longer is ('Textile and Design' was a subject when I worked in high school before retiring; students could make quite complicated creations, but I could not attest to their hemming skills) but as a 'life skill' it is invaluable.

Off my soap box.....

Our visitors departed on Tuesday morning, our musician friend sporting four new tyres on his blue car ($$$$!), something he wasn't expecting when he arrived here ten days earlier.  At least those new tyres made his long trip home a safe one, albeit something of a sticker shock.  We have sometimes had to sort out mechanical issues while away too, not a fun activity but a necessary one for a trip to continue.

"Conduct of the fiancée.

The conduct of the fiancée should be tender, assiduous and unobtrusive.  He will be kind and polite to the sisters of his betrothed and friendly with her brothers.  Yet he must not be in any way unduly familiar or force himself into family confidences on the ground that he is to be regarded as a member of the family.  Let the advance come rather from them to him, and let him show a due appreciation of any confidences which they may be pleased to bestow upon him.  The family of the young man should make the first advances toward an acquaintance with his future wife.  They should call upon her or write to her, and they may with perfect propriety invite her to visit them in order that they may become acquainted."

No doubt the young woman would be apprehensive to meet her future in-laws, as indeed he was to meet his.

Enjoy your days!

Jennifer

Up to three dozen trees now

Three dozen is 36, so that's several weeks' worth of trees.  A whole forest of trees.

On our visits to Vancouver Island we have been amazed by the trees - in fact, we call it "The Land of Tall Straight Trees".  If memory serves me right this print was bought on Vancouver Island, so it can be one of those tall straight trees.

Several years ago I looked at this print and thought....hmmm, I thought......there's a quilt in that.  Summertime Blues was the result, with the colours reversed; blue was the main colour - every shade of blue from pale turquoise to deep purple - with orange/gold as the contrast.  There was a piece left that was just big enough to cut one tree (fabric is cut 6-1/2in by 9in) and the contrast is also a leftover from my Canadian quilt, used to represent the ocean.  

An interesting pair of trees.  After sewing and trimming, they finish at 6in by 8-1/2in.

Spread out in all their glory.

They really are fun to make.  A group pic will be taken each time another 12 trees are added.

"The Land of Tall Straight Trees", for sure!

How have you all been this past week?  We finished off Easter, then had a few normal days before Anzac Day brought another holiday and another long weekend.  We don't do any special celebrating for Anzac Day, as most of Australia seems to do.  I have memories of that day when I was young, it was never a good day in our house; my father enlisted when he was 20 and was eventually sent overseas to New Guinea, where he served in the War Graves Unit - which would have been horrific  Like many returned servicemen he never joined in the march on Anzac Day, but he did play in a band which marched in the parade.  The march ended with an ecumenical church service at a sports ground, after which the adult band members went around town on a pub crawl.  They would set themselves up outside each pub in turn and play, drinkers would send beers out to them, they would get more and more stonkered - my father did not have a good tolerance for alcohol, it didn't take much to put him under - and eventually he would make his way home.  My mother's fuse was quite short by then (it was never a long fuse at the best of times) so of course there would be fights and arguments for the rest of the day, while my brothers and I tried to keep out from underfoot and away from arm's reach.  

So no, it was never a good day.

Words have been read, stitches have been sewn.  Sorting of the music continues. and will do for quite some time.  Some stitches were knitted; knitting is a good thing to have along when going to the doctor, as I had to a few days ago.  Nothing major or even exciting, just the medical driving check that we in New South Wales have to undertake every year from A Certain Age.  While I was there the nurse asked about having a flu shot....all right, I said, been having them for over 25 years without any problems....although I really hate, detest and loathe having injections.  (I don't like them, either.)  She must have hit a blood vessel because it bled, and we chatted about the fact that redheads - which I was, before going grey - bleed more than other folk.  It's genetic, she said.  Fancy that, I said, and we feel pain more than other people do too.  Apart from unusual tiredness for a couple of days there have, fortunately, been no ill effects from the injection so now I have a whole year to psych myself up for the next one.

A place we visited on our trip away was the Holtermann Museum at Gulgong.  Several years ago, while visiting the Big Smoke, we were lucky enough to see the exhibition which spawned the founding of this museum and found it really interesting.  Considering those photos are over 150 years old they are so clear, and paint a vivid picture of life on the goldfields of the time; women appear to be wearing their best clothes and children have been spruced up for the photographer, while men have also been fluffed and polished despite the mud and dust.  I wonder what they would think of us now, looking at them as they were back then?

It has been raining all night and most of today, gentle soaking rain.  It's been cloudy and misty, not very warm although not too cold, not quite, but an extra layer of clothing is welcome.  The thought of lighting the fire has even crossed our minds.  Quite a lot of rain fell here while we were down south but none since, so this rain will be beneficial.

"If a gentleman, when riding alone, meets a lady who is walking and wishes to enter into conversation with her, he must alight and remain on foot while talking with her."

Well yes, so he should.  The average woman - and people were generally shorter then than now - would probably develop a crick in her neck trying to converse with a gentleman seated on horseback while she was on foot.

Enjoy your days!

Jennifer

A year in the making

A few days ago was the 12-month anniversary of the fall which resulted in a broken arm and a truly spectacular black eye, and I'm pleased to say both arm and eye are working properly, or nearly so.  There are still some wrist movements which are stiffer than they used to be and unwelcome twinges of pain from time to time but, as the orthopedic specialist pointed out, "given your age, your arm may never be what it was before".  He's right, you know.....it isn't.  However, considering the damage (and, of course, my advanced age!) it's not too bad.

During our autumn trip to Canberra last year I visited a fabric store, and bought a few batik fabrics for the trees which I hoped to make one day.  The day has, of course, arrived, and now those trees are being made.  First a smokey blue, with a pale contrast whose design makes me think of mysterious hieroglyphics from an ancient civilisation.....

....then a brownish-greenish-khaki with touches of red.  The red fabric used for trunk and branches were already in my stash, but the others were bought on that trip.

Not a bad effort for the week.

During last month's trip there was, of course, another visit to the same fabric store for a few more batik fabrics.

This was before we departed on our recent holiday, all the thread which was left on the spool after making that week's two trees - certainly not enough to make another tree.

Talk about cutting it fine!  I find this Guttermann colour to be a Very Useful Colour for piecing.

During the week my autumn quilt was laid out once more, this time to have its hanging sleeve added.  That wasn't done in time to enter it in the show a couple of months ago, so it will certainly be done for next year.  I have found a good spot to photograph it, once the sleeve is on.

Yesterday we picked up our hot cross bun order from the bakery on the other side of the river, and jolly nice they are too.  Kevin doesn't eat fruit buns - although he really like date scones - so I will have to eat them all myself.  To make them last longer all six buns were cut across into two halves and placed in the freezer, so my daily treat isn't too huge.  Even though I could quite happily eat a whole bun by myself....those buns are my consolation prize for not being at the folk festival this year.

Words have been read.  Stitches have been sewn, and fabric cut.  Sorting of music has commenced, and I am being quite ruthless culling anything which I don't want to keep.  We hunted and we gathered, and went here and there, and that was another week done.

During our trip away we took the opportunity to try a couple of different - to us - roads, and we drove through Binda.  Thirty years ago I heard (and have been singing ever since) a song called 'Binda Ball', about a trio of bushrangers crashing the 1864 Boxing Day ball held in the small town of Binda.  The Binda police were away at the time escorting prisoners to Goulburn, so Ben Hall and his gang took advantage of that to kick up their heels for a few hours.  The storekeeper Morris, a former policeman, tried to get some of the local men to rush the bushrangers during the dancing and capture them, but the plan was overheard and foiled.  In revenge, they burned down Morris's store; he lost all his stock and his account books, without which he couldn't continue trading.  The girls who had such fun dancing with their 'bushranger sweethearts' were arrested; there are accounts published in newspapers at the time which can be read online.  All three - Ben Hall, John Gilbert, and Jack Dunn - died the following May.  Many bushrangers were descended from convict parents or grandparents; as such, most had scant respect for authority.

We all make choices in our lives, and these three men made unwise choices.  Others, in the same circumstances, made different choices and consequently lived (mostly) blameless, if less adventurous, lives - and longer ones.  Jack Dunn was still a teenager when he was hung for bushranging and murder.

Last week's etiquette post was about assisting a lady to mount a horse, using a side saddle.  One of the items held in the historical museum here is a side saddle belonging to Esther Stace - Mrs Arthur Stace, because women were known by their husband's name in those days - who held a side saddle jumping record which stood for nearly 100 years, only being broken in 2013.  Side saddle always looks awkward to me, but perhaps it's really quite comfortable.....who knows?

"Riding with ladies.

In riding with one lady, a gentleman takes his position to the right of her.  When riding with two or more, his position is still to the right unless one of them needs his assistance or requests his presence near her.  He must offer all the courtesies of the road, and yield the best and shadiest side to the ladies.  The lady must always decide upon the pace at which to ride.  It is ungenerous to urge her or incite her horse to a faster gait than she feels competent to undertake."

It is indeed.  Not every side saddle rider has Esther's skills.

Enjoy your days!

Jennifer

Strolling around

Our weather this week has been distinctly un-wintery, although overcast, so it's not a bad day for a stroll around our small - very small - back yard.

The rosemary bush in front is threatening to take over the universe; it was planted a few years ago during the last drought and seems to quite like being where it is.  We also planted one in our front garden but as it doesn't get as much sun - the back gets sun nearly all day - it's much smaller.

Another rosemary planted not long after we moved here several years ago and now growing through the fence, this one has lighter-coloured flowers.  The rather scrappy-looking shrub (which is actually very healthy, this is just how they grow) behind is 'Eremophila Aurea'.  Eremophila is an Aussie plant which is much loved by birds and pollinating insects - this yellow flowering one ('Aurea' means yellow or gold coloured) is a favourite with honeyeaters and with Eastern Rosellas.  Honeyeaters have long beaks and tongues which they poke inside the flowers to reach the sweet nectar, while the rosellas bite the flowers off at the base and extract nectar that way, leaving dropped flowers in their wake.

A clump of snowdrops, which we didn't plant!   They were left by the previous owner and pop up nearly every year.....not bad, considering we have been here for 14 years now.

Our disappearing fence.  The back yard is narrow, so a wire fence - once again, it was in place when we moved here - visually 'disappears' giving the illusion that our backyard is extensive instead of small and easy-care.....and yes, sometimes kangaroos come fairly close to the fence.

The week hasn't been entirely wasted, as the third border for Autumn Rhapsody was finished.  This is how the design wraps around the corners.

A start has been made on pinning some of the final border.

Words have been read. and both hand and machine sewing has been done.  Diamonds have been cut.  Songs have been sung, and notes plinked; our U3A ukulele group is drifting along nicely, although there are always people away.  We hunted and gathered to keep the wolf from the door, and that was the week.

I had my final visit to the orthopedic surgeon on Friday, and he is pleased with how my arm, wrist and hand are progressing.  Talk about a run around; on my previous visit to Emma physio we made my next appointment for Friday as the appointment with the orthopedic bloke was tomorrow, Monday, and Emma wanted to see me beforehand.  Early in the week a phone call from the ortho bloke's receptionist full of apologies, so sorry, Jennifer, he has a full day of surgery on Monday, can we re-schedule.....no problem, says I, so an appointment was made for 11.15 a.m. on Friday.  My physio appointment was at 10.30 a.m. the same day but the receptionist and I decided that, as they were only a few streets apart, it shouldn't be a problem getting from one to the other on a tight schedule.  Then, blow me down as they used to say, while Emma was going through my exercises with me on Friday morning another call came from the receptionist....so sorry, Jennifer, he's had to go to hospital (presumably to check up on a patient, not on his own account) so can we change it to this afternoon.  Once again, no problem, in fact it took the pressure off the morning, but that was pretty much a whole day gone for just two appointments.

It's no wonder I seem to run around like a mad thing on some days but achieve very little, is it?  That was the final physio visit unless I feel I need a follow-up - just keep doing the exercises says Emma physio, which I am doing - and although it will still take several months, I should have most of the use of my hand back again.  Most isn't as good as all, but it's better than just some.  It is getting stronger and activities which used to be quite painful aren't so bad now; full strength isn't yet there but I'm sure that, too, will come.

At least that frees up some of my calendar for something other than medical Stuff!

Here's an interesting article for you to read - it's been 100 years since the last mail coach run and a recreation is planned.  However, I take exception with the bloke who said "it was a better way of life".  No, it wasn't.  The "good old days" weren't always good; many children didn't live long enough to celebrate their first birthday, women died in childbirth, domestic violence was something to be suffered in silence.  Medical conditions and accidents which are classed as trivial today could, and did, kill within a short time.  These days life has its challenges, but I wouldn't go back for any amount of money....no matter how glamorous the hats were.

Continuing on with Conduct in an artist's studio:

"Never take a young child to a studio, for it may do much mischief in spite of the most careful watching.  At any rate, the juvenile visitor will try the artist's temper and nerves by keeping him in a constant state of apprehension."

I heartily concur.  Keep those little kiddie-widdies out of my studio, please.

Enjoy your days!

Jennifer

Slow and painful

That is me, typing on the computer.

I am trying to make the best of my enforced 'leisure', but oh.....it's boring; just imagine no sewing or knitting, no playing ukulele, no cooking or food prep or housework - well, that's a silver lining, isn't it.  So far my arm hasn't fallen off, my black eye is healing as are all the other bruises on my left wrist, right elbow, right ribs.....bruises in places I didn't know I had places.  The plaster on my right arm is heavy and cumbersome, but hopefully my broken bits are healing inside it.

On to happier things.

Another quilt I photographed at the antique quilt exhibition was this one, because I liked the fabrics.  

Some of the fabrics are similar to those in the Rajah quilt, not surprising given that they are nearly from the same era.

The backing fabric is very exuberant.

This, we were told, is 'Sir Loin' who stands proudly outside a pub just north of Canberra, where we ate a couple of times.

He's quite "incredi-bull", isn't he!  We admire people who make art pieces from old metal; I don't know what he's made from, but he is very well done.....and quite large.

One place we found to eat on our trip south from Canberra was a café in Gundagai, a small town with an interesting history.  I can remember, on trips to visit my Posh Melbourne Grandparents, calling into the Niagara Café....and it's still there!  Many Ozzie towns had cafés opened and run by Greek immigrants from the early 20th century onward, and this is one; although the original family no longer owns it it is still run by a Greek family, and still does good food and wonderful caramel milkshakes.  The decor has been restored to look as it would have done in the 1930s....talk about a trip down memory lane, and a slice of history.

There is not much to report this week.  Words have been read.  Medical visits have happened, more are to come.  That's about it, really.

Continuing on with Conduct in Opera, Theatre or Public Hall:

"If it is a promenade concert or opera, the lady may be invited to promenade during the intermission.  If she declines, the gentleman must retain his position by her side."

Indeed.  She may be feeling like quietly pondering on the music she has been listening to, or she may be feeling poorly.  She may even have a broken arm.

Enjoy your days!

Jennifer

We've had rain!

Only a little rain, it is true, but precipitation falling from the sky nevertheless.  More is forecast for the next day or two, and judging by the weather radar some could even fall later this afternoon.  Fingers crossed.......the long-term average for February is 85.9 mls and so far this month we have had 31 mls.  February is only half over so hopefully we can make the average, if not a little more.  The official weather station here is at the airport which we can see across the valley; sometimes there is a difference between here on the hill and there, but on the whole it averages out pretty much the same.

Here's a rather pretty wombat.

None of my wombats have names because it would be too much for my elderly brain to keep track of, but this one seems to be calling out to be named.....what do you think?  She (it has to be a girl) was bought at a local garden centre late last year.

A little sewing has been done, another two quilt blocks have been made - one is completed, one still has to have its applique machined down - slowly and carefully.  Tomorrow is sewing guild and somehow I don't think my machine will be coming with me because using it is still painful, but I may take the overlocker along and have a go at making a fabric flower using the rolled hem edge.  Instructions were in the latest guild newsletter, and there is fabric left from the wedding skirt that will do nicely.

Speaking of pain, my shoulder is still far from happy although it has improved slightly since the previous post.  I wish I had never had the operation, in fact if the clock could be turned back I wouldn't go under the knife at all.  I would just put up with it. For a brief few days I was able to put my hair up, but now can't do that again either.  It is quite upsetting; when I get upset my blood pressure goes even higher and one day I shall probably explode from it.

Ah well, she says, heaving a sigh.

Yesterday we took ourselves off for our annual outing outing to the movies to see 'Philomena', and I can certainly recommend it.  Just make sure you take plenty of tissues with you, because it has some very sad moments.  Even when I was growing up some years after the events shown in the film there was quite a stigma attached to girls who became pregnant out of wedlock.  Most of them married.....the high-waisted Empire line dresses of the 60s, and a big bouquet, were very popular!  I remember rumours about a girl who 'went to visit her aunt' for a few months in a large city several hours north of here, but can think of only one girl who, very bravely for the time, had her baby girl and neither married nor gave up her baby for adoption, before marrying a few years later.  When I was a teenager my mother told me that if I ever came home and said I was pregnant she would kill me, and I believe she would have.  She would certainly have done bodily harm to my person because she was a violent woman.

Before that movie started we had to sit through trailers for several current and forthcoming movies.  Now I don't know about the rest of you, but I am not at all interested in movies which are full of noise, action and special effects with not much plot, blokes in or out of uniform shooting each other, and young lust and teenage angst.

You can see why we only go to the movies once a year.........

"Childhood is like a mirror, catching and reflecting images all around it.  Remember that an impious, profane or vulgar thought may operate upon the heart of a young child like a careless spray of water upon polished steel, staining it with rust that no efforts can thoroughly efface."

This is right, you know.

Enjoy your days!