Doily dolls

My much missed paternal grandmother, Vera Grace Mollins (nee Nickerson -- 1897-1992), crocheted outfits for tiny dolls with moveable arms and legs. It's a tradition I've upheld, although intermittently. A cousin asked me to dress a couple for her grandchildren. I found the dolls for sale on Etsy.

Soldiers by Aunt Sybil #AdventPhoto

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Mum's Christmas baking #AdventPhoto

Pinwheels, shortbread, coconut macaroons and a chocolate cake.

My dad looking at a canoe

. . . in the Royal Ontario Museum in Toronto

First night back in Toronto

 

Got home to Toronto at about 4ish in the pm yesterday. It was great to be home, but I was incredibly tired after not sleeping much the night before flying and because of a bad cold.

Still, it was great to see my family and be back in Canada, where people are so chilled out compared to people in London.

My Mum had made a little shrine on the dresser in my bedroom to my dear Aunt Lily who died in May . There's a picture of her on a giant rock at Net Lake in Temagami in northern Ontario, a place she loved. Also, her silver mirror and brushes are polished and laid out. 

My Dad had put two cards stuffed full of money for my sister and I on the dresser. He has given us C$50 for the first and last day I am here and C$25 for each of the other 30 days.

 

My Mum put my childhood Teddy on the bed and an Olympic teddy I'd bought for my sister at the airport last time I was home. I gave them gifts from Marks & Spencer, Fortnum & Mason, Istanbul and elsewhere.

 

My Mum served my favourite home made tomato soup for supper.

 

She also served shrimp, garlic bread, cheese, cold cuts and salad.

 She also made a chocolate-orange cake for dessert.

Random flat pix from the past year

A friend came over for breakfast and I made pancakes with fruit for her.

My father gave me an old-fashioned cookbook and I made these macaroons from a recipe in it.

 

I had some friends over the day of the Queen's flotilla on the Thames and served them this food. I made scones, tomato salad, chickpea salad and cucumber sandwiches, served meat pies, cold meat, strawberries, olives, cheese and shortbread biscuits.

The day after the flotilla, I had some other friends over and served them some of the leftovers . . .

When my cousin visited this year, this is where she slept. My mum made the knitted pink afghan. A friend made the cushions.

I make my own peanut butter.

Small glass chicken dishes displaced for my aunt's green elephant and purple pot.

My aunt's dog draft blocker in front of the door. I think it was made by one of her colleagues.

My aunt's bookshelf -- with her things on it.

My aunt's toaster oven. My mum gave me the owl timer and the pepper grinder. A girl I used to babysit gave me the little mirror from peru.

Salt and pepper. I took the tall wooden ones and the small wood topped ones from my Aunt Lily's. The glass birds were a gift from my mum. The tomato and garlic from my Aunt Bettie, the dinosaurs from a friend in Toronto. I bought the honey container with the bees on it and the butter dish with the rabbit on it. My cousin gave me the cat pitcher.

My room arranged for my sister's visit in August. My friend Jennifer made the cushions.

Felt cat -- gift from a friend.

Minnie Mellowtron -- a gift from my sister -- suspended. I bought the sock monkey picture from a friend who painted it.

Rabbit cushion -- a gift from my sister.

Soup and salad for two from M&S, made by my sister.

Small items on shelf and from travels in Stockholm and Amsterdam this summer.

Burning old Halloween candles last year.

Random glass of white wine.

Breakfast made for my cousin.

Sherry in a glass from my sister and on a slate coaster with the University of Toronto logo on it from my father. He, my sister and I all graduated from U of T, but from different colleges. He graduated from Victoria College, my sister from Wordsworth College and I graduated from Innis College.

The clock is a braille clock my Aunt Lily got from her friend Jeannie after she died.  Jeannie had multiple sclerosis and was blind. The tiger was my Aunt Lily's.

Horsham history

I sent this hasty message to my father on Saturday. 

From: Me

To: Dad

Subject: Horsham
Date: Sat, 20 Oct 2012 13:43:28 +0000
En route to Horsham and can't remember what places to look for -- there's the street where the pic is taken and then a pub he went to, but not sure where ...Julie xo

I had decided to go to Horsham in West Sussex to see where my Canadian grandfather, Harry Mollins, was stationed during World War One before being deployed to the battlefields of France, where he fought in the Battle of Vimy Ridge, among others. The weather was very touch-and-go and I didn't get out until quite late in the day, so I decided this would be the day I would go to Horsham.

My father has Harry's war diaries, so we know a fair amount about what he did in Horsham, although he died when my father was 14 -- and long before I was born.

He kept small leather-bound diaries for three years during the war. We don't know what happened to the fourth -- if it was lost or destroyed, but we assume he had kept one because he did so all throughout his life. 

My father transcribed all the diaries and visited Horsham in 2000 with my mother.

My sister summarized my grandfather's Horsham experience on her blog, and I have summarized her summary and posted some of the pictures I took today :)

Harry trained at Roffey just outside Horsham until April 12, 1916. 

He wrote in his diaries about the rain, physical drills, letter-writing and waiting to receive letters, attending church, reading books, and a social life that included teas, theatre, dates, musical evenings, skating and cycling.

This photo is of Harry Mollins (far right), Harry and Fred Fownes (we think) also from his hometown of Moncton, New Brunswick, and an unidentified friend on rented bikes in Horsham.

My father replied to my email:

From: Dad
Sent: Saturday, October 20, 2012 02:27 PM
To: Me 
Subject: RE: Horsham
 

JGM:
The only other thing we can think of was the King's Head Hotel, but your Mum understands that it no longer exists. 
   He took singing lessons nearby and I'll send the teacher's name if I can find it.

   Also this I wrote for a diary report:
    

Before facing those life-threatening actions across the English Channel, Harry spent happier times during recesses from combat training in southeast England and in days off up in London or down in Hastings.

During his training time in southeast England, in a camp on the outskirts of the Sussex County town of Horsham, Harry also spent hours polishing his powerful baritone singing skills. He took lessons from a lady in town.

And on a pass of 12 hours or longer, he occasionally, as his diary puts it: "picked up a girl for the fun of it."  

At times, he would also treat himself in a local hotel. 

[About 80 years later, son Carl and his wife Joan on a trip to Horsham visited that hotel, donated to the owner copies of Dad's diary references to the pleasing place--and that turned out to make our meal free.]

I took the picture above of the King's Head Hotel -- where he stayed -- which is now an Ask Italian restaurant.

My father followed up with a second email:

From: Dad

Sent: Saturday, October 20, 2012 03:09 PM 

To: Me

Subject: RE: Horsham

Also, from your Mum's diary and memory, on our visit in March, 2000, to Horsham we met a citizen living near the place on the road where Dad and pals were photoed on Clarence Road. Mum sez they were interested in the history of their neighbourhood. We gave them copies of the photos. Mum also mentions our interest in pleasant local church, St. Mary's, dating from 1247 -- so now 765 years old.

As well, a theatre where Dad went. now an Arts Centre.

Here is another picture I took:

And apropos of nothing

 It was actually quite a hike around town and out of town to Roffey. I know why they rented bicycles. I managed to catch a bus from Roffey to the Horsham Railway Station. 

From there I took a train bound for London Victoria to Three Bridges and changed to one that would take me to London Blackfriars instead.

listen to ‘Horsham where my grandfather was stationed in WWI’ on Audioboo

  

The deed is done

I thought we were going to scatter my Aunt Lily Tagg's ashes today, but the funeral director had put them in a box, so we buried them instead.

Her other relations approved of my choice of her final resting place at St Margaret of Antioch Church in Barming, Kent.

They were very impressed with its beauty and how well it is maintained. I chose it because the old church is near the river and surrounded by fields. She used to walk her beloved dog Prince there.

Her two husbands, who predeceased her, are in Vinter's Park Crematorium, but I wanted her to be in a place that was about both life and death.

Her good friend May's brother is buried there. He died in the Second World War at age 20.

I used to walk to the church sometimes when I visited her and once I was showing my Aunt Lily some photographs -- coincidentally, I had taken a picture of May's brother's tombstone, and that's how I found out about him.

After her step-daughter said a few commemorative words her step-grandson put the box in the ground. Then the funeral director came around with a box of dry dirt and each of us threw a handful onto the box in the hole.

We didn't linger, but left the church graveyard and went to the Bull Pub for lunch.

Afterwards, the four of them left by car to return to London, and I walked back to the grave site, which had already been neatly repaired and covered over with grass.

There was a small dog running around and I thought about how much my aunt would have fussed over it. If you click on the picture below, you will see the dog more clearly.

I picked some wildflowers in the surrounding field to make a small bouquet for the grave.

I then hastened back along the River to the East Farleigh Railway Station and got on a train to Tonbridge where I made a connection to get to London Waterloo East.

I've always wanted to use the East Farleigh station because I have never done so, but have used all the others nearby: Barming, Maidstone Barracks, Maidstone West and Maidstone East.

If they hadn't suggested lunch I would have gone to the Bull Pub in East Farleigh instead. I was there a while ago when I was out for a walk.

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