The Church, Miserden
Many books have been written about the poet and author Laurie Lee.
Back in the 1990s, a television programme was produced based on interviews with him as he talked about his life. The transcripts of those interviews have come to life and been turned into a book.
This week we have a very special contributor. Diddley herself. In researching the forthcoming Cotswold stories, we found some papers that she had kept and, most importantly, a story she had written. It may be a rough draft? Who knows, but it’s worthy of sharing with you. I am sure she wouldn’t mind. As you can see, Diddley’s Story was intended to be sent in to Saga Magazine.
“Probably the Best Night of my Life”
I Woz There (Pt 2)
So said Bobby, looking back to fifty years ago on the 24th January 1970. Arguably the greatest day in the history of Sutton United. Not the greatest performance, when you lose 6-0 at home. But the greatest occasion, when a tiny amateur team was drawn against the best team in England in the FA Cup. Leeds United were top of the old first division. Competing in Europe. A team full of international players. Managed by the irascible but highly successful Don Revie. Who later became manager of England. A time when the FA Cup was the most famous cup competition in the world. A time when minnows could get drawn against the big clubs. A time he will never forget. And I Woz There! Over to Bobby now. (more…)
Back in January, we went to a football match at Meadowbank. The new state of the art stadium for Dorking Wanderers Football Club. It was a cup match, billed as the biggest game in their short history. A game against the relatively mighty Stockport County, from a higher league.
This story is not about football but, rather, the link between the two towns. A link leading to a story that has been on our “to do list” for a long time. The link described in the football programme was music and a pop group that became world famous back in the 1970s. 10cc. The link immortalised by Strawberry Recording Studios. (more…)
Walking to St Georges – Charles Holden
This is the third and last of our trilogy centred on those weeks of walking to and from St George’s Hospital in the latter part of 2019.
Why Charles Holden? Well there is a pub named after him opposite Colliers Wood Underground Station.
But who was Charles Holden?
Walking from St George’s.
Pt 2 of a trilogy.
For over four months we travelled twice a week to St George’s Hospital in Tooting. 32 times maybe. Many incorporated the previous walk to or from Morden Hall Park. Tuesdays always start at Al-Anon in Islington and then the Northern line from the Angel to Tooting Broadway. On just one occasion Bobby bought a ticket for an evening Concert by Candlelight in St Martins In the Fields .
On that afternoon, he decided to walk back from St Georges along Tooting High Street northwards towards central London for aerobic exercises. Knowing that he was following the line of the Northern line below the street and could declare when he got tired and get the tube into Charing Cross for the concert.
Walking north, passing Tooting Broadway station. Past shops from all over the world. (more…)
Lost in a Dream.
It’s the morning after New Year’s Eve. Bobby is sitting bolt upright in bed. He has had a shocking dream.
1960, when they were the greatest.
It wasn’t a nightmare, because most of it seemed OK. Just the end when he woke up. So, he had a cup of hot orange and a hot cross bun and went back to bed and dreamt a bit more. Finally waking up and frantically typing out The Dream on his phone, so that he could save me. But how? Well he has just been declared “local author of the month” at Reigate and Banstead Writes group and now thinks he is bleedin Charles Dickens. Fame at last… quite forgetting who actually writes the stories and he can only rescue me awake. In a story. Awake! (more…)
St Botolph without Aldgate
When we began writing Mindfully Bertie in August 2016, we started with a clean slate. A void in our lives had been created by the loss of Diddley the year before. A void that could provide opportunity for creativity, whilst never forgetting the love and affection for the person we missed so much. A clean slate on which the plan was – there wasn’t one. In particular, there were no traditions at all. Four years later, we now do have one tradition. The Christmas journey away from Laurel Cottage to East London for a few days in a Premier Inn. A trip for just Bobby and I, in which we indulge in whatever comes to mind and ends with his son Andrew’s family travelling to London for a West End Musical.
There is no public transport in London on Christmas Day. It gives a strange air of freedom from responsibility for all those fertile brains wishing to squeeze adventures out of every second. For us, it also gives a wish to go to a church service. But not just any church. It has to be a voyage of discovery in itself. This year our sights were set much closer to where we were staying.
Just a few minutes walk away is St Botolph without Aldgate, and that is the subject of today’s story. (more…)
Finding Peace at Christmas
People like Bobby see life as a series of adventures. Big ones. Medium ones. Small and tiny ones. Even a shopping trip to Waitrose can be turned into a little adventure.
To be an adventurer you need certain things. Finance, of course. Ideas, which he has in abundance. Energy. The last was never lacking in his younger days but plays a much bigger part now in old age. And now post the ‘very serious event‘ is of indeterminate supply. He never really knows now when he will suddenly become tired out. Knackered. Cream Crackered. He also acknowledges the role that ‘acceptance’ can play. While this situation exists, to ensure that adventures for the present have escape routes just in case the energy levels drop. (more…)
Wishing you a Peaceful Christmas
from Mindfully Bertie
Standing by my Christmas Tree
(or sitting on a sledge)
Standing by my Christmas tree.
Wishing you were here with me.
The snow is falling everywhere
But it’s not okay that you’re not there.
Lonely footprints in the snow
And where they lead, nobody knows.
I feel the frost beneath my feet.
The angel’s breath upon my cheek.
“Silent night, holy night’.
Can you hear the carollers singing in the night?
They sing “Silent night, holy night”.
`Let their voices guide you from the darkness to the light.
Walking down St. Michael’s Street.
Where once you swept me off my feet.
I’ve traced these steps a thousand times.
I’m always hoping for a sign.
So Christmas Eve is here again.
Glad tidings and good will to men.
I’ll always keep you in my heart.
You’ve been there from the very start.
“Silent night, holy night”.
Can you hear the carollers singing in the night?
They sing, “Silent night, holy night”.
Let their voices guide you you from darkness to the light.
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Lighting a Candle for Diddley at Christmas
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