No place like Gnome

I really must lay off those mushrooms

This waterfall and river looked very different when I was a child. This river... the river Tame supported many mills along its length and their waste water would be pumped back into the river without being treated. I can remember standing in this very spot as a child looking at the water foaming up in great clouds of chemical suds.... the water was a mucky brown colour and the whole place smelt very bad... standing by this waterfall was not advisable as after a while your eyes and throat would sting. At times the water would bubble and the smell got worse then. Th picture below is of the old Gibralter Mill that was in the same spot as the first picture, it was just one of the many Cotton mill that took their water from the Tame to power the steam engines that ran all the machines.

I am happy to say that the river as recovered, fish are being caught here often... birds such as Heron, Kingfishers, and the odd Cormorant work these waters daily for their food... butterflies, dragonfly and many more clean water dependent wildlife and wildflowers are now found along the banks of this local river. At one time it was fished for Salmon.... no one living can remember when that was but we never know they might might make a come back soon.

Saturday Fun

Run run, as fast as you can


You can't catch me said the Gingerbread Man

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Kayne, Monique and Layton caught one each for their supper last week, it was the quietest they had been all night.

This is our grandson Malakai, younger brother to the three rebels above, Saturday is 'Stop Over' night for the older three. Which gives some peace, quiet, and quality time for Viki and our son Sam to share with Malakai.

No posting about the grandchildren could be complete without CaraJade, our eldest sons little girl. CaraJade stops over every Friday night and stays until around tea time to spend the night with Ben... then Sunday is the maddest day of all when they are all here running around shouting and screaming and doing what they do best..... filling the house with love.

Fridays Bench

I was sent this by email along with a few other pictures from a friend. He knows I like benches, scarecrows, and anything Land Rover related. I hope you like this bench as much as I do... I would love to have seen this for myself, sat on it a while and admired for the work of art I think it is. It says it is sponsored by 'The Morayfirth Partnership'.. well done to them then I say. :O) I had to find out who they were... and I'm more than pleased to add their link here Moray Firth Partnership well worth a look at if you get the time.

Full Steam Ahead

Childhood Memories

Where I grew up we had train lines over the field at the back of our house. My generation were amongst the last to see the old steam engines working. My uncle Bert worked on the railway, he was a guard and his working day was spent in the Guards-Van at the rear of the train. If he was working the line at the back of our house we would hear his whistle... at night if we looked out into the darkness he would be swinging a lantern which I really looked forward to seeing. The whistle was also a signal to my Dad and older brother to walk the tracks as Uncle Burt would have dropped off large chunks of coal. In the 1960s everyone worked, Hyde was a cotton town back then. Engineering works were abundant as were many other mills. Our Dad started off in the cotton mills and was still working in the mills up to his death. He left the cotton mills in the late 50s and worked in a mill that produced rubber goods. I can well remember the colour he was when he came home.. he looked as black as a miner with the carbon black dust. His lungs must have been full of it.

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Even with everyone in work, money was still tight for many. Mum and Dad had five of us to cloth and feed.... Anything like free coal was a blessing, so the sound of uncle Bert's whistle was most welcome. Uncle Bert was also a poacher for some renown, rabbits, hares, and even lamb joints would make they way to our home... if mum was given to much for her to use she knew other who could make good use of these ill gotten gains... One more memory of the train lines behind our house was the time our black Labrador dog 'Robbie' was killed by running under a train chasing a rabbit. My oldest brother Harold went to collect him and I recall he was covered in blood... at that time Harold had just started working in the offices at the large ICI plant. His new white shirt was now destained for the bin.... and Harold was late to work at his new job.

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All these momories came back this week whilst I had been working on a number of local pictures from the past. These images are all altered old photo's which I loaded into my drawing program.. The two Steam trains would have passed by our back door many many years ago, and the old mill is a mixture of two pictures... both damaged but still useable for what I wanted to achive.