We are currently outside Abbeville, not far from the beach and town of St Valery. At a really big camp full of statics and tents! Only planning on spending a couple of days before getting back to blighty.
Despite all the british tourists there are hundreds of owl pellets (have collected half a dozen for a rainy day activity) and the most amazing array of solitary bees which are thriving in the sandy soil. Have spotted the odd parasitic wasp eyeing up the opportunities! Heaven...well, for someone like me. Have also discovered piles of rocks with crystal centres (can't remember what you call them, nodules maybe?)
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Have you gone for a ride on the preserved railway at St Valery yet? Being a railway geek I know of these things lol!! It looks quite fun.
ReplyDeleteSpinky
As you are shortly to be 'heading to the Norr'd' as us auld Fishermen would say,here's a wee poem to remind you of your Homeland.........
ReplyDeleteScotland,
she is a harsh mother,
arthritic with hills and crags
cut deeper than crow’s feet.
her face is lined with ravines
her voice the roar of spume
on broken brown-toothed rock.
she passes boulders off as breasts,
belts her waist with an industrious past,
in her arms, she gathers firs
a grey and grizzled warrior, she is
bordered by ample hips, her tongue
a lash of thunderous voltage.
no season softens her, she drags
her children up on gorse and whin,
winters them without kindness.
she fires the hearth with ice or hail,
expects snow to pass for gentleness.
spring girdles her old in green.
if she holds you to her rugged breast
it is to pour the white-water scorn
of mountains on your head.
when she croons, she throws up seagulls.
sleeping, she drags a lumpen pillow
over the moon, punches out a few stars.
she’ll turn your dreams to Scotch mist,
bone comb your hair with tugging wind
scrub your faces with rain.
in your mouth she lodges a language
no-one speaks, in your heart a stone.
but if you go from her
a wild song and dance will follow
to bind you forever son or daughter,
make you sick for home.....-Janet Paisley
Spinky
Bats in the belfry or what... all very interesting. I will miss all the anticipation of searching out your blog and reading it over and over again just in case I missed something on the previous readings, just a way of feeling connected I think. Can't really believe your trip is coming to a close or mabye a journey of a different kind is about to start. They do say you have to have endings before you can have beginnings... Annie the Philosopher. Thought Spinky's poetic offering was very profound.... I'm just recovering after greeting for half an hour... only kidding.... thouroughly enjoyed the verse albeit somewhat bleak. Weather here has been fabulous but much colder to-day (Tuesday). I am still feeding the birds and was intrigued watching the blue tits, he sat in the tree twittering and eating, whilst she scrambled about on the ground pulling up dead moss for her nest. I think the twittering was meant to be words of encouragement from him, she was very focussed. Either that or he was nagging her to hurry up. Anyway, looking forward to seeing you all and delighted you have taken the opportunity to have had this experience wherever it takes you. Lots of love to all, from Fife, Mum lol. xxxx
ReplyDeleteAnnie,
ReplyDeleteLike you, I will miss logging to see how the journey was going. Somehow, reading all the tales and seeing the pictures made one feel part of the journey. They also made my days less dreich and cheered me up....serves me right for staying in Aberdeen lol! Maybe we should encourage an evening of drink, food and entertainment by 'lantern show' to reprise the journey lol!!
I quite liked that poem I posted but it never made me greet.However,as I am a good mixture of Dundonian, Fifer and Angus loon; this one did.......
"Oh tell me fit was on yer road, ye roarin Norland wind?
As ye come blawin frae the land that's never frae ma mind.
Ma feet they traivel England but I'm deein for the North."
"Ma man, I saw the siller tides rin up the Firth o Forth."
"Aye wind, I ken them weel eneuch an fine they fa and rise,
And fain I'd feel the creepin mist on yonder shore that lies.
But tell me as ye pass them by, fit saw ye on the way?"
"Ma man, I rocked the rovin gulls that sail abin the Tay."
"Bit saw ye naethin leein wind afore ye come tae Fife?
For there's muckle lyin 'yont the Tay that's mair tae me nor life."
"Ma man, I swept the Angus braes that ye hivna trod for years."
"Oh wind, forgie a hameless loon that canna see for tears."
"And far abin the Angus straths I saw the wild geese flee,
A lang, lang skein o beatin wings wi their heids toward the sea,
And aye their cryin voices trailed ahint them on the air."
"Oh wind, hae mercy, haud your wheesht for I daurna listen mair."
All the best
Spinky
Wonderful poetry again, Lesley and Bill, sorry you have to keep travelling as the Blog is juat taking off, pity more have not taken the opportunity to participate. I have found it a very satisfying experience and I agree it is as though you are actually there too... loved it..... As for you Spinky, my mother was born and brought up in Peddie Street, Dundee and then she married a Fifer from a Cowdenbeath family with a long mining history. Lesley and Joshua did a family tree and it revealed many things I did not know, very interesting, all very hard working people it seems. Very much of the times, working on the land, mines and later in the industries of jam making, and jute and shipyards on the Dundee side. Large families and quite a few emigrated only to work hard in another country.
ReplyDeleteWell Lesley, Bill, Joshua and Euan, goodness knows where you are now but moving closer to home I know. It will be intersting to know how many miles you have covered, we have enjoyed every mile. Lots of love as always, Mum xxxx
Hi Annie,
ReplyDeleteWow, such similarities....The Spink family are originally from Arbroath/Auchmithie but moved to Dundee way back. I was born and grew up in Dundee. My mum's family were a fine mixture and included economic immigrants from Ireland. On my Mum's side we are connected to Fife through the coal mining fraternity also. I am not sure of the details but the name was Duncan and they lived in Cardenden (and also Kirkcaldy). Some of them later went to Wales when the mining was shrinking in Fife. I was always in Fife as a kid and loved it.When I grew up and became a fishermen I ended up in the East Neuk as they were more my kinda folk than the Angus folk of my fishermen forebears. My daughter and grandchildren live in Crail still.Back to Dundee and my family on all sides did the Jute, Jam, the railway and my Dad worked on the Tugs and Dredgers of Dundee harbour. You are correct in that there seemed to be plenty hard work for all but at not much profit!!
Hope that Lesley and Bill don't mind us 'stealing' their blog!?! lol
A thought has just occurred to me....It would be sooo funny if, after all these years, Lesley and I found out we were distant relations.Lol
I will miss 'our chats'.....
Take care
John (Spinky)
Well hello again to everyone. I wrote a huge blog as a follow on to John's (Spinky's) last input, only to wipe out the entire thing before I could post it. Hopefully this one will be more successful. Well Lesley, Bill and the boys, there has been no word for a few days now, so have no idea where you are at present. I keep thinking you might just turn up on the doorstep, although it would be hard to sneak in unnoticed with that van of yours. Just have to wait and see, as long as all is well that is all that counts but longing to see everyone again. Although in some respects the time has gone by very quickly, it does seem a very long time since seeing you or at least knowing you are only 120 miles away. Loving the 500 and now have the knack of driving a petrol, after all the years with a diesel, so much quieter I can't hear it.. hence the early frequent stalling. Felt like a learner again. You will probably notice a huge increase in your fuel costs when you reach UK, I'm guessing that diesel is much cheaper on the continent. Anyway, "Homeward Bound", cue Simon and Garfunkel.
ReplyDeleteNow to John (Spinky). Curiouser and curiouser. As I told you Lesley did a family history search, gathering lots of facts en route about my family in particular. Surprise.....my great grandmother was called Margaret Duncan. I believe in the census she was described as a farm worker, widowed and bringing up 6 children on her own. I think she also worked in service but whatever, in those times life must have been very hard. Despite this she was a very dignified, gentle woman who played a large part in the care, upbringing and probably survival of my father as he was a sickly child suffering from tuberculosis. I think I was about 9 years old when she died but she had a very positive impact on me, hopefully I have taken at least some of the best bits. My grandmother (her daughter), was absolutely nothing like her mother and lived the subserviant role of a miner's wife. I was brought up in Rosyth but I too have many happy memories of visits to stay in Cowdenbeath as my mother went off to visit my father in the sanatorium. Despite lack of money it was a very loving, but not sentimental environment to be in and if nothing else you were always warm thanks to the Coal Boards coal allowance for miners. Great New Year celebrations as I recall. Right now Bill and Lesley are saying wait a minute this is not a pen pal site. Just hope they don't mind us borrowing the site to exchange life experiences and family history, as you said not disimilair. Now to the poetry, I have penned a few verses in my time, (not for public consumption), in the style of McGonagle. However I quote one that Lesley sent to me some years ago when life was not treating me very well:........
Every day is a fresh beginning,
Listen my soul to the glad refrain,
And, spite of old sorrows
and older sinning,
Troubles forecasted and possible pain,
Take heart with the day and begin again.
New Every Morning by Susan Coolidge.
Well time to go everyone, hope all is well wherever you are. Lots of love as always.
Mum xxxxx
Well Spinky you have become John now and I am actually called Annette, but all the boys call me Annie, apparently the name my mother refused to call me when I was born, take your pick.....
Geodes?
ReplyDelete