Blog of Oonah V Joslin -- please visit my Parallel Oonahverse at WordPress

where I post stories and poems that have not been seen elsewhere - also recipes and various other stuff. http://oovj.wordpress.com/

and see me At the Cumberland Arms 2011









Friday, 8 April 2022

April 2022 -- Palm Sunday -- Andrej Jedlina Jacobson

 We don't necessarily go to St. Mary's Churchyard on Palm Sunday because it's so busy that day but this week we made our visit to Andrew's grave in advance. 

The war graves are always beautifully kept and the aspect is pleasant. The trees that blew over in storm Arwen have been removed and if anything it has opened the cemetry up to more light. Rabbits were chasing across the paths when we were there -- a lovely sight!





I believe Andrej Jedlina Jacobson, brother of my friend, master Yachtsman Woytek, would have been 100 this year. I can't remember the date though. I would love to know it. He was only 24 when he died of TB in Morpeth Cottage Hospital. He wanted to be a doctor like his father and he was a keen artist too.


Their brother Ebbig is buried in Glasgow. Their father is buried in London. Their mother was a survivor of Ravensbruck. I think of them all when I stand there at the grave. 

I think of all the families affected by war. It is so very sad. And on this occasion too, I thought of all the young men in the field of war in Ukraine and those who have been forced to leave, people they love and the land they love, and seek refuge among strangers.

I pray for an end to war and that all my friends everywhere will have a peaceful Easter.




Thursday, 31 March 2022

My Sister's Diamond Wedding

 

I Remember You

31st March 1962


Well, I remember being in the way all morning! Being in the way and with all these people around. I’m sure I didn’t really know who half of them were! I remember getting all dressed up in my little blue nylon dress, I think there was a bolero involved, lacy gloves, silky soft ankle socks with a double blue stripe round the top and darling pearlised shoes with a button on the side. I was very chuffed with those. Of course there was the compulsory hat, with elastic to go round your chin, ostensibly so it wouldn’t blow off, but I think hat-elastic was actually a form of torture!

Plus I had to sit beside Mammy – and keep still – and behave in church. Where were the sweets? I don’t remember any sweets! Keeping still was only bearable with sweets!!

The dress

After the ceremony, which took aeons by the way, there were photos. Lots and lots of photos! I think they must have used an entire roll – cameras in those days required rolls. Margaret of course, looked very beautiful. Her dress was a gorgeous cloud of lacy white wonderfulness! Bouquet bigger than her head! Raymond looked impossibly tall and handsome in his uniform.

Our nephew Robin who was four at the time


Later I remember waiting, on the pavement outside Davison’s Cafe – we waited – and waited -- and waited, and an icy wind blew from the direction of Church Street, straight up our nylon dresses. That wind wasn’t taking prisoners! My knees were bluer than my dress. A few flakes of snow began to fall on our straw hats. Our pearl shoes froze to the pavement and I heartily wished I was wearing my school vest, liberty bodice, cotton blouse, chunky knitted cardy, blazer, box pleat skirt, blue bobby socks and industrial strength navy knickers. They knew how to dress you for school in those days! Weddings were a different matter. I tell you, if there was a bolero involved, it didn’t earn its keep.

Signing the Register


At last, when the door opened, we still had to wait – for the bride and groom to arrive and go in first, as is tradition. Traditions are very over-rated if you ask me!

From upstairs wafted the irresistible aroma of good vegetable soup – warm, comforting, yummy vegetable soup! Torture I tell you!! But in the end we got in, and got fed, and all was bliss for both the wedded and the hungry.

Aunt Georgie Bell, Mrs Hinks, Mammy, Christine, me and Esme.
Uncle Sammy gave the bride away.


I remember 31st March 1962. I was seven. And Frank Ifield’s ‘I Remember You’, is the song I associate with Margaret and Ray. But most of all I remember that delicious smell that wafted down, as if from heaven above to the poor souls below, in their elasticated hats, with their wee frozen legs.


They do say, “Give me a child ‘til he is seven….” Well can I vouch for it; it’s true! I haven’t changed that much in all these decades. Given the choice between moments of high romance and vegetable soup, I’ll still take the soup any day!



All the close family


Margaret and Ray, 

Congratulations on your 60 years together.


Sunday, 20 March 2022

The Voyages of Wojciech Jacobson: Tales of Tall Ships and World Trips

I had a lovely surprise! A book of maritime memoires by my friend Wojtek arrived in the post. 



It's in Polish and I don't read Polish but I am already deriving much pleasue and information from it's pages: dates, voyages, pictures of wonderful ships. What a life to have led.




There's a lovely photo of his mother who spent time in a Nazi Concentration Camp in WWII. There are lots of photos of Wojtek when he was a young man, even from before I was born! And some of his friend Ludomir whose story I am familiar with, having helped a little with a previous book about their voyages together.  Wojtek very kindly included my poem Ludek's Dawn which was published in Bewildering Stories which I wrote for a photograph he took 








Wojchiech is a Master Yachtsman and Tall Ships' First Officer. His long association and service for the Yacht Club earned him the award of Ambassador of  SZECZECIN a few years ago. Amongst the sailing fraternity he is a legend. 

 You Tube Links to see Capt Jacobson in Interview include:

https://pl.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wojciech_Jacobson

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dHbeMOkOsFg

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6eIGgPTIiaI


It is strange how a chance encounter at a bus station can lead to a friendship that endures for (so far) 22 years I am just so thrilled and humbled to have a place in this incredible man's wonderful life journey!

Thank you so much Wojtek, for the book and for your enduring friendship.


Monday, 14 February 2022

Valentine's Day

 

Meeting my FATE


First meeting

A sense of certainty

This is the one

Everything I know tells me so


Forced to move for a job

Applying far and wide I find myself

Travelling to Cardiff

Ever so alone except for that first meeting


February 18th is the date

A blizzard of such intensity

Trains and buses cancelled, we get a taxi out

Everybody's stranded but it's FATE


Four decades on

A lifetime together

This is still the one

Every blizzard a bonus




Tuesday, 4 January 2022

Hello 2022 -- a word from The Wasp and the Wood Pigeon

I've had enough Christmas now. To tell the truth I'd had enough Christmas in mid-December but you have to go right through it to the end and then out the other side so it seems, to get to here, and here I am. 

Took the tree down on 1st! There was tinsel sparkling in the sunshine and splintering light onto the wall and I thought "That's just not right!" It looked false -- fake -- tinselly. It looked TINSELLY! There's something unsettlingly tacky about tinsel touched by sunlight, don't you think? It's something akin seeing through a ghost! Suddenly you think, Hey, Christmas -- you're not REAL! You're just a big fat con we do every year to make Winter seem less Wintry when there was nothing wrong with Winter to begin with! 

Same day I saw a wasp flitting outside the door and thought 'You're way too early, mate!' And just today (4th) a woodpigeon was cooing for all it was worth looking for some love. I wished things would settle into some good old fashioned cohesive pattern.

I ate a mince pie and it was so sweet I nearly spat it out. No more fancy stuff, I thought. No more sweets and spices, no more tree. I felt like George Bailey... I want to live again... I want to live again!

So today we went for a walk at the seaside and I bought cornish pasty and stotties from the corner bakery. You know...I think maybe the wasp and wood pigeon had it right all along. Get with 2022, they said. Get with the flow of nature.  

Time to ditch the past -- it's so last year!



Thursday, 23 December 2021

Happy Christmas -- 23rd December 2021

It's a funny old time of year, Christmas. I'm never sure I liked it all that much. Always prefered Hallowe'en when you didn't have to pretend so much. Maybe it's just easier to be afraid than happy! Christmas has too much riding on one day. The pressure to enjoy it makes me nervous. I've never been a 'special occasions' kind of person. I like life to stay on an even keel and count myself lucky that for the most part, it does. We're LUCKY!

Gently, gently


had to be

before you went to Big School


...leading question

Do you still believe in…

Hint well taken.

All lingering doubt dispelled.

Not really.

Thus the spell was broken


but not to worry yet because

whether you believed or not

there would still be

something from Mr Claus

to keep the myth alive

for younger siblings

not as mature as you not as

grown up.


You were part of the secret now

the great conspiracy.

You knew of course that Jesus was still real.

But the magic had gone.

The child inside had died

and the adult struggled on.


If I could give you all something for Christmas, it would be Peace on Earth, Goodwill to all and just enough MAGIC to fill your heart with JOY


I can give all of you an ONLINE version of our Canzonette which I know you will LOVE!

To all our friends and Family 

May 2022 be Kind.

Sunday, 31 October 2021

A Whole Heap of Horror -- Secret Worlds

 Never stop looking for the magic, folks! 


Secret Worlds

Granny could see ultraviolet light. It happened after she had her cataracts removed. When we walked the dog, she’d tell me all about the shimmering, purple-white rainbows that splashed clouds of blue mist all over the park every time it rained. She’d admire a bed of blue and white flowers where I saw only yellow and point out the exact direction of sunlight even on the cloudiest day.

“There are secret worlds all around us, Shayla. Ever wonder what a duck’s world’s like?”

I always loved that about Granny. There was always more than met the eye.

“Ducks can probably see the glint of weed without the glare of the water.”

Granny’s skin was milky thin, so you could see the veins through it and her fingers were that bony, her hand looked like an x-ray.

“Caesar, Sit!” Caesar sat. “Caesar sees the world with his nose, don’t you boy?” He was snuffling at her pocket for a biscuit.

“How do you know the secret worlds are there, Granny?”

“Oh, you have to be looking for them. I have the gift,” she said proudly. “I see auras.”

“Horrors, Granny?”

“No auras -- colours around people that signify something about them.”

“Have you ever seen a ghost, Granny?”

“No but it’s not too late. You never know what you’ll see in a lifetime. I never imagined I’d see computers and space walks but I have and now there’s this strange light... Another gift.”

“But that’s science, Granny isn’t it. And science is different from auras.”

“There are more things in heaven and earth than ever we can see, Shayla,” she said.


My mother disapproved of Granny. “She’s an auld woman, Shayla and she’s half blind. What she thinks she can see is beyond me. Pay no heed to it.”

I told Granny what she said, of course.

“Do I have colours around me, Granny?”

“Yes, Shayla brown with warm flecks – like match heads sparking about in rich chocolate – that’s you; all fun and curiosity. Your mother’s blue and cream and far too caught up with things in general – but she’s right about one thing.”

“What?”

“What I can see is beyond her. It’s beyond most people. Never forget that Shayla – always believe in your own vision and keep your eyes skinned for those other worlds or you’ll never see them.


Granny always harked back to when she was a girl; counting with pounds, shillings and pence, no central heating, no colour T.V.

“The past’s a kind of secret world too, unless it’s your own of course – and the future... In fact no two people see things in quite the same way.”

I have a grand daughter now -- Sinead. I tell her about cash -- before the mega-crash, power lines that criss-crossed the countryside, petrol cars, keyboards you had to type on. I can see ultraviolet any time, by just putting on my visor. I worked all my life as a micro-biologist. Secret worlds… But that was science.


“Grandma Shayla, I made you a present.”

“Oh that’s lovely Sinead. Thank you. Is this me?” I see it’s an orange crayon person with brown fuzzy patches around the edge.

“Yes. And that’s me.”

A little pink person is holding my hand.

“And who’s this?” I ask.

“That’s the old lady who visits you,” she says.

The lady is white, has huge eyes and is surrounded by a violet glow. “Is she here now?” I ask.

“No Grandma. She’s not here today but she visits all the time… and she has a dog that comes with her.”


Seems Granny did have a gift and she passed it to Sinead. So many advancements, yet so many secret worlds: I’d almost stopped looking for them.


“Secret Worlds” ©2011 Oonah V Joslin. Not previously published.