2.02.14. End of shooting, refugees, Mr Williams, and more baby shoes

 

 

It’s been a strange week, a bit, well, ‘bitty’. Lots of appointments, all at the most inconvenient times, I’d really like to have all appointments in one day so that I can ‘bed’ myself into the studio and get on.

The shoot season is well and truly over. I swear all the pheasants on the Estate gather along my fence with a “Ha, ha, can’t touch me now” look on their faces

February 1st is the last legal day of the shooting season, it’s traditionally a cock shoot …..……………. sorry chaps, the females are kept for breeding for next season and the guys – well just surplus to requirements – why feed anything that’s surplus to requirements?

Our cock shoot was on Friday, which means that for a few weeks, until the birds begin nesting,  the woods are fully accessible, fallen trees (and there are a lot this year) can be harvested for fire wood,

 

Fallen tree

Fallen tree

Much needed as the log store is much reduced……………….

 

wood shed

wood shed

Now, new trees can be planted and I get the pleasure of renewing my acquaintance with the woodland paths.

The wood coming awake

The wood coming awake

 

woodland snowdrops

woodland snowdrops

 

 

nature at it's tidiest

nature at it’s tidiest

B and I have been pondering the fate of the Syrian refugees, it’s heart-breaking; we’ve sent money of course but surely there must be more we can do?  Find a home for a mother and child? It may be better than war torn Syria but living in a strange land with a strange language and strange customs would be quite a challenge.

Many years ago (early 60’s), B tried one such act of charity. Blazoned across the newspapers was the story of Mr Williams and his family. A black South African, tired of apartheid, persecution, and violence, he had saved hard to bring his family to England. On arrival in Southampton, complete with piano, but no paperwork, immigration promptly shipped them (and piano) back on the next Castle steam ship to South Africa. The newspaper got wind of it………..my husband read of it………..

Mr Williams was a carpenter. B promptly offered to sponsor him, offering him the job as Estate carpenter along with this three bedroomed farm-worker’s cottage.

 

Garden Cottage

Garden Cottage

 

Mr Williams, his wife, two children and the piano (the piano along with its owners had now travelled over 18,000 miles) duly arrived and they soon settled in. Mr William’s carpentry skills were, shall we say, a little rough, but a working farm does have plenty of rough carpentry work to be done, so the arrangement suited everyone perfectly.

There were a few glitches. B remembers Mr Williams coming to him with broken spectacles ………. No problem said B, just give them to me with your prescription and I’ll get them repaired. Mr Williams explained that he had no prescription, he’d found the glasses on a South African street many years before!

Although, the family were certainly not unhappy here in Norfolk, they could never quite get used to living such a different life, with different customs, it was (and still is) a quiet life here, no town, and no hustle and bustle. Mrs Williams was dreadfully lonely, she felt she was living on another planet.  Eventually, after several years, they moved to London. History doesn’t relate where they eventually ended up…………………….

 

It’s been baby shoes all the way this week………………………..

and more baby shoes

and more baby shoes

These are such fun to make, although the fun part does pale a little after 31 pairs!

I want to fill this board with shoes and then make up kits and sell them – probably on my web-site

web site address www.susancampbelldesigns.co.uk

I’ll be back next Sunday………………………..

 

 

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