Volunteering

THIS IS GOING TO BE A POSITIVE POST.

A few weeks ago my NHS Counsellor suggested I have a go at volunteering in order to build up my self-esteem and prepare for being in the workplace. So I did two things:

1 I started going to the Looking Well in Bentham. This is a sort of drop-in centre for wellbeing of people in the Bentham area. As part of this I have attended a writers group, an art class and also volunteered to help older people learn to work on computers.

2 I also offered to drive for Community Transport, taking people to the doctor's surgery or the hospital.

Well, amazing things have come of this today.

1 A man and his wife whom I took to the hospital yesterday rang Community Transport and told them they had enjoyed the trip very much. This has led me to hopefully having three more opportunities of transporting them again.

2 I was challenged in the writers group to write a 450 word book review for the magazine A Single Step. This I did and read it out to the group. The next step was to send it in to the editor.
Today I hear that it will almost definitely go into the next issue.

Amazing, or what!! My self-esteem has really been boosted by this. Thank the Lord for His mercy.

Energy

I haven't got much energy these days. Or at least I only have it every other day.

On Thursday I went to Liverpool to see my aunt who lives in a home there. I was away all day and then in the evening set about organising readings for the upcoming carol services.

On Friday I was so tired I didn't get up till 10.00 a.m. and spent all day just reading stuff off the internet and watching a two hour special about Helen of Troy.

I will just have to pace myself.

Surprised by Green

This morning I was surprised by green. Why? Because I have been living in a white world for over a week.

Here in this little corner of Northern England we have had ten days of frost and snow. I can't remember the last time we had wintry weather for this long. But last night it thawed and everything looked green again.

When I looked out of the window and had a shock at this strange colour, it made me think. How soon we get used to the unusual. The older we get, the more we hate change. And yet, when it comes we take no time at all to get used to it. Then we find it a shock to get back to normal.

honesty

When people ask me about my life at present and how I feel about it, I tell them honestly. Often they finish the talk by saying something like: "I appreciate your honesty." or "Thank you for being so honest with me."

When they say that I think to myself that this is a code for "You've told me too much. A man should not feel like you do, and even if he does he should not talk about it."

Well that is how I feel, and if I'm honest, as I hope I am, I have to tell them the truth. Ah, but as Pilate said when he stared it in the face, "What is truth?".

Inductive Bible Study

One of my readers has asked me to tell you about the new way of Bible Study I found on my week in Gloucestershire.

It is called Inductive Bible Study. It means using the Bible as your primary source. Three main ways are included:

OBSERVATION
This means you ask questions of the text with help from the 5Ws and 1H - What, Where, Who, Which, Why and How? In other words you interrogate the text.

INTERPRETATION
Here you have to ask yourself What does the text mean? Most important to remember is the context. Who was it written for and why?

APPLICATION
This means applying the text to my life. That's the hardest part - putting it into practise.

Now a piece of PERSONAL TESTIMONY
In the past I have run off after one of these new things with great enthusiasm and it has lasted a fortnight, or maybe a month at the most, and then I'm onto something else more new and exciting. I'm a real Mr. Toad I am.
So I have been determined not to do that with this Inductive Bible Study. But I have started to use it in my own Bible reading and it certainly has opened up the text of Proverbs to me.
I have also been using the Lightning Study cards which Precept UK produces with my House Group. They have expressed appreciation.
Now a friend has asked me to recommend a six-week study on Prayer for his group and I have ordered a 40-minute Study Book on that subject from Precept.
And I am also working through a booklet written by the co-founder of Precept Ministries, Kay Arthur, called What can I do about anger? and that too is proving very helpful.
So my personal testimony about the literature and studies published by Precept Ministries is this: They work.
You can find out more about Precept Ministries on their website: http://www.precept.org.uk/

Precept

I have been away at Lindors Country Hotel in Gloucestershire for a week.

The week was organised by my friends from Brimscombe in that county, under the auspices of Precept Ministries. It was a week well spent.

We were looking at the Book of Hosea. It was an intense study, both in work and in content. The work was partly our own study with a handbook, and then interactive study with a leader, whose name was Ann Absolom. I found it hard going but worthwhile.

I came away with a new way of studying the Bible, and with new ideas of how to make the Bible better known in the Church.

Am I still angry? Yes. Because yesterday I went to sign on at the Department of Work and Pensions in Kendal and was greeted with the words that I should not be drawing Job Seekers Allowance (JSA) as I was applying for Employment and Support Allowance (ESA). I blew my top at this.

Not only am I not applying for ESA, I am not being paid my full amount of JSA either. What little I was getting was about to be taken away. They saw Mr. Angry. And they kindly backed down, although I have yet to be paid my JSA.

Today I went round in a van, helping to pick up Shoe Boxes for the Samaritan's Purse Christmas Project. We collected 650 boxes from the area around Lythm St Annes. Mr. Angry did not appear. Thank God.

Anger

Maybe I'm Mr Angry. I certainly feel like it.

I'm angry at myself for getting such a stupid job at Lakeland. I had no idea it would be such a disaster.

I'm angry at other people for not understanding me.

I'm just plain angry.

I went to see the Counsellor yesterday and she could see I was angry. We decided that the move into a job at Lakeland was a step too far. She suggested Voluntary work as a first stage into work.

So I'm going to have a go at that instead.

Pray for me.

Catching up

Yesterday I went onto Classmates.com for this first time in ages and came across a guy I had not heard from for many years. His name is Rick Rogers and I stayed with his family in Waverly Nebraska when I was a foreign exchange student at the High School there in 1971.

It was great to hear from him again. Now a pop-up has appeared inviting me to look at Friends Reunited. So I might just do that, as long as I don't have to part with any money.

This year has seen me revisit old haunts: Epping in Essex where we lived from 1979 to 1982, and Broad Oak-Brede Sussex where we lived from 1978/79.

It was great to hear from Rick again, although he now lives in one of the Carolinas. It brought back many happy memories of Waverly.

How am I doing this week? Well, up and down. I have discovered a new benefit which came on-stream on Monday. It is called Employment and Support Allowance. It doesn't pay any more than Job Seekers Allowance but it fast tracks you to someone who can help point you in the right direction for suitable work. It is aimed at people who find it difficult to work because of a long-term illness, injury or disability.

They are sending me the papers to apply. I'll see how it goes.

Money

After resigning from Lakeland I have been dependent on God for my income, as I had no other way of getting any. So I prayed about it and I think I've got as much in the account now as I did two weeks ago.

God is able to supply all your needs according to his riches in glory in Christ Jesus.

Now I am looking for something I really feel at home in. Well, that's the title and the theme of this blog - Finding my way Home. Keep following. I'll get there eventually.

And the doctor said...

There is no alternative to resignation from the Lakeland job. So I sent in my notice yesterday. I won't be going back. It was making me ill again.

So what now? Well, I am going to make it my aim to apply for one job per week day, either online or by post. There must be something out there I can do.

I am also keeping in touch with the CAB, the Disability Specialist at Kendal Jobcentre Plus and with my counsellor. Most of all, I am keeping in touch with the Lord.

Strangely, in spite of all this trauma, Jesus is more real to me than ever. Even though mental illness hits you right in the centre of your being, Jesus is still there too. That's what the Christian faith is all about.

Some people can't see how you can feel like I do and still be a Christian. But you can.

What a difference a day makes

Yesterday started for me at 2.45 a.m. when I woke up and couldn't get back to sleep. That's a classic sign that the Black Dog of Depression is snapping at your heels. When I did get to sleep the alarm went off and I did not get up. In fact for the next two and a half hours I did not want to get out of bed. That's another sign of depression.

What I decided to do was to get through an hour at a time and this is how each one went:

9.00 - 10.00 Got up, had breakfast, read the Bible, made sandwiches

10.00 - 11.00 Drove to Kendal, found a free parking space and went to Jobcentre Plus

11.00 - 12.00 Signed on for Job Seekers Allowance, made an appointment to see the Disability Officer (who deals with those suffering long term ill health, injury and disability) for 15.20. Went to the Bank to discover that the DWP had given me some money.

12.00 - 13.00 Went to Communion Service at St. Thomas Church Kendal. Short sermon from the Vicar: Know God's love, God's voice and God's plan. He prayed with me afterwards.

13.00 - 14.00 As we were eating soup and rolls in the church cafe my mobile phone rang and the Disability Officer asked me to go in there and then.
We had a long and detailed interview during which she advised me to call in sick at Lakeland and see the doctor as soon as possible. She also helped me to find more suitable jobs to apply for. So I thanked God for His amazing timing and did what she said.

14.00 - 15.00 Went back to the Church and told the caretaker what had happened. He showed me round their newly improved church and then I went home rejoicing.

Poverty Trap

This road I am following on my journey home is full of potholes. I have fallen into one of them called the Poverty Trap.

To sum this up: it is possible to go from living on benefits to earning a wage and end up worse off. This has happened to me.

When I was not working and being paid Incapacity Benefit I was getting more into my bank account, and less was going out of it, than now that I am working.

This means I keep wondering if it was worth going back to work at all. I don't enjoy it. It doesn't suit me. I have to pay for fuel to travel the 20 miles in order to work four hours at a time for three evenings a week.

But the fact is that I felt God called me to go back to work and I have to be obedient.

These Bible verses have been helpful:

"Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance." James 1:2

"For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all." 2 Corinthians 4:17

Back to work (again)

Going back to work last week was not easy. I found I had forgotten some of the training I had been given the week before I left for Hastings. I got into a muddle on my first evening back and had to train again the next evening. Then I worked on Saturday afternoon and things went a lot better because there were not so many people working and I could go at my own pace without pressure.

On Friday I came across the details of an evangelist post on the South Coast. Having just returned from a successful mission there, and the job description fitting my skills, gifts and abilities I sent off for the details which came straight back by email.

The closing date was yesterday, so I started to apply on Saturday before going to Lakeland. On Sunday I went to three services - two at IMC and one at Bentham CofE. In the first, the children's message told us we should use our gifts and talents or they will be taken away, and both the other services included the message "Pray for the workers to go into the Harvest Field". I sent off the application on Monday.

On Monday evening I went with the Shepherds Choir to Kings Meaburn in rural Cumbria. I was leading the meeting and spotted the Methodist Minister, Phil Dew, at the back of the church. So I made up a story about him during the singing and told it during my talk.

To make a longish story short it spun on seeing him fall down and calling it a Dew Drop. Anyway, it worked. People were impressed that I could do that. And I was pleased I could too. I'm more skilled at that than what I'm getting paid for now. That's why I applied for evengelist job.

Watch this space.

Walk East Sussex Coast

That was the most amazing week of mission I have ever known.

There were eight of us on the team and we saw about 20 people make decisions for Christ. We were amazed.

This is what happened:-

Friday 12 Dreadful journey down. Stuck on the M1 in a Megabus for two hours. Missed the next coach to Hastings so stayed with my sister Sheila and her husband Andrew in Thames Ditton. This worked out well as they gave me a mug they had bought in America for me and I used it the whole week.

Saturday 13 Took the train to Brighton and then another to Hastings. Got our gear - hoodie and polo shirt in pale blue with logo, songbook, Bible study, etc. Then a welcome service with the leader Daniel Cousins.
Off to meet our hosts at Ore, then to meet the rest of the Church people. We were working with the Salvation Army and Christ Church Ore for the first part of the week.
At night we went to the local pub for the first of several visits. I talked to a couple of guys from London who have caravans on the coast.

Sunday 14 Met an interesting character called Jeff who looked homeless but actually had a house in Ore. Had bacon butties at the Salvation Army and then walked prayerfully round the Downs Farm estate.
AM service at Christ church. I gave a two minute testimony and took part in a puppet sketch. Afterwards met a young man called James who had lived most of his life in Hastings, except for five years in BURNLEY!
Then we had an outside BBQ and I found that people had come down off the estate to the service. In the evening I attended my first proper Salvation Army meeting. I was impressed with the music - brass band and songsters. It was great.
Then back to the pub again.

Monday 15 We returned to the flats on the Downs Farm Estate to knock on the doors. We had a spiritual beliefs survey for the people but most were not interested in it. But the Salvation Army captain who was with me told them about a Family Focus they run each month in the community hall, and they were interested in that.
In the afternoon I went out door knocking with a man off another team we were working with and we got into a great conversation with a young lad. As we were getting to the most important part a bin wagon parked itself right next to us and made the most awful noise and smell, but I prayed and my mate kept on going.
The lad made a decision to become a Christian.
In the evening a young girl on our team and me went to a supper party. One of the Anglican ladies had invited two of her neighbours and her husband, who is not a believer, to meet us.

Tuesday 16 Out on the doors again with the same person as I went with the day before. We set off to start where I had finished. But as soon as we got into the road a lady passed us and then said "I have a survey form for you." So we walked up to her flat on the estate and picked it up. We prayed with her. She was a Christian.
We went down to the next block of flats where my mate picked up a lot of litter on the floor while watched by a couple over the fence. I did the spiritual survey with them and they prayed to receive Christ as Saviour.
As we were going along with our hearts bursting with thankfulness I decided we should visit a lady I had seen on the previous two days whose husband had died two months before. We did the survey with her and prayed for her.
Then we met a guy from the estate whom my mate had seen twice before, and finally we passed an old guy working in his garden. He lifted up his head and said "You'll wear that pavement out." Then he went on tell us about a near-death experience he had had, in which he had met his dead father, and we told him how he could have assurance of heaven.
Then we ran back to base, because we just couldn't cope with any more.

After lunch two of our team members went out on the doors - the young girl is doing a Ph D in Maths, and the older man has always been a kitchen porter. They asked for God's blessing, so I just put my hands on their shoulders and said "God will bless you." They came back rejoicing that an 87 year old woman had put her trust in the Lord.

At night we had a Hot Potato Evening. There was a supper of hot potatoes and salad followed by a panel discussion of hot spiritual topics. Richard Dawkins came up, as did the Trinity and a few other things. A young woman at the other end of my table was asking lots of questions. She was sitting near the Salvation Army folk. When the meeting was finished they spent a lot of time talking with her while I cleared the table and washed up. I felt it was better that way round as they would always be there and I was leaving next day.

Wednesday 17 A morning off, spent walking on the cliff tops near Fairlight. Then off to St. Leonards to work with Calvary Chapel. We first went to a residential home to take a meeting and talk to residents. The meeting was a bit of a disaster but one of the residents trusted the Lord.
Then we adjourned to our places of residence. I was put in a penthouse overlooking the sea on the Promenade. We really slum it on these missions.

Thursday 18 We had our first open-air outreach in downtown Hastings. Singing, acting and speaking was a lot of fun. We met some interesting people. One turned out to be a high-flying Russian diplomat. She was in favour of what we were doing. How times have changed since the Communist era.
We moved places half way through the morning and one of our team got talking to a couple and did not arrive at the second venue for sometime. When she did it was to tell us that they had accepted the Lord. She then started chatting to another woman and led her in a prayer of repentance. I've never known a time like it.

In the afternoon I went out on the doors with the pastor of the church and handed an invitation for a free BBQ on Sunday morning to a family on the street. We had some good conversations on the doors but a lot of people were out.

It was pub time again at night but I didn't find anyone to chat with except my companion. But it was a good time nevertheless.

Friday 19 We set off for Oxford Road and went down one side of the street while another couple worked the other side. "We" being me and an older Northern Irish lady who now lives in Bexhill. She has an insatiable appetite for talk. So I had to ask her to button it a bit while I was talking. She managed graciously to do this eventually.
We managed to work together well. So much so that on the way home she struck up a conversation with a man standing outside the pub smoking. I took over, went through the survey with him, and led him in a prayer of repentance. Amazing.

Later on in the evening we had an outreach event in the same pub with a guy called Roly playing his guitar, harmonica and keyboard, but not all at the same time. The pub was invaded by lots of Christian men, and a few women. Some of the locals tried to protest and cause a rumpus but it didn't work and a lot of people were challenged.

Saturday 20 saw our second downtown Hasting open-air outreach. This time one of the team did Sketchboarding and four kids prayed a prayer of commitment. There were a lot of people around and it was very exciting.
In the afternoon we strolled through Alexandra Park and came across a wedding group taking pictures. It turned out to be a couple from Ore Salvation Army, with whom we were working the first part of the week. They invited us to come and have our picture taken with the bride and groom.
At night we went to Battle to meet the church folk we had not already met. They were very middle class and I wondered how they would relate to the people who live around where they meet, who are at the other end of the social scale.

Sun 21 Last day. Sunday morning service was at a Community Centre near four huge tower blocks known as the Four Courts. At least two men were there because of our invitation. When I came out there was a family outside waiting for the BBQ. They were the family I had given the invite to on Thursday. We enjoyed hot dogs and the kids had a bouncy castle. Then we got together for our last time as a team.
We waited for some time for our leader to appear but a message came saying that he and the pastor were busy talking to the family and that we should carry on without him. So we prayed for each other and the family. When we had finished he came in and gave us the thumbs-up. All three - father, mother and son - had given their lives to the Lord.
We jumped around, clapping and hugging each other. What a fantastic end to a fantastic week!
The last event of all was the final service for all the teams at St. Leonards Parish Church on the seafront. Six people gave testimony to what had happened during the week. Incredibly, I was involved in what three of them had to say.
What an amazing week.

Hello and Goodbye

I just popped into to say farewell. I am going on a mission to Hastings for the next ten days and will be offline. How can you cope without my blogs?!

I managed to do three evenings at Lakeland this week. Two were being trained and last night I was on my own. I panicked a bit at first but I managed to get round.

I stopped off at Asda on the way home because they are looking for people doing the same job as I'm doing at Lakeland but in the early mornings. I would much prefer to do that. So I will be applying. Evenings don't suit me at all.

Money problems have arisen. The Incapacity Benefit stopped on 2 September so I am appealing against that. I went for an interview about Job Seekers Allowance on Wednesday and was told I would not get any money because I am earning more than they would give me from the work I do at Lakeland.

So now what? God alone knows. Watch this space. And watch out Hastings, here I come!

I got through

Last week I got through a medical on Wednesday and passed through training and testing on a picking machine on Thursday. This is like a forked-lift truck and I had to go through a whole day of theory and practical training. It was awful.

The guy who asked me if I was lazy turned out to be a brilliant driver while I found it very hard indeed. At one point he took me on one side and told me how badly I was doing and how I would have to improve if I was going to get through. And he was NOT the trainer!

You can imagine what that did for my morale.

But I did get through, with the minimum possible marks. All I could think about afterwards was how badly I had done and what he had said to me. The fact that I had actually passed and would be able to go to work the next week paled against what he had said to me. That's what depression does to you.

So yesterday I went to work, and I ENJOYED IT! Only doing four hours helped, and doing it in the evening when the warehouse was not so busy helped too. But I knuckled down and did it, helped by a woman who was training me. Some things I got right and some I got wrong, but I learned along the way. And I am looking forward to going back on Wednesday.

Also on Wednesday I have an interview with someone at Jobcentre Plus about applying for Job Seekers Allowance. This is because I learned late last week that I am being denied Incapacity Benefit as the Government now feels I am fit to work. Well, my counsellor and doctor don't feel I am ready for full time work so I am challenging that decision. We'll see what happens.

Back to work

I was quite nervous about going back to work yesterday.

It really hit home when the man sitting next to me asked me why I was only doing 12 hours a week. "Is it because you're lazy?" he said. Some people have no feeling at all.

So I told him it was because I was recovering from depression and then he said he was as well. We got into quite a discussion about it, and I'm training with him again on Thursday.

As far as what we did: most of the day we sat in a training room, went through paperwork and watched videos about fire, health and safety, etc. I was training with 8 others, most of whom were young males, and one token female.

There was a man about ten years younger than me who looked a bit jaded. He let on that he had been self-employed up to this point, so I guess he'd had to go back to paid work.

We had a look round the warehouse, with a guy called Dave who knew my son Matthew. This was because Matthew worked there at Lakeland when he got over his depression last autumn. I seem to be following in his footsteps.

I was given a works number, a locker and uniform. I am wearing in the boots at this moment. I get a cap with my name on. The facilities are pretty good, with a lunch area, internet room and games room. So I am starting to look forward to it.

Back tomorrow for a medical, and on Thursday for more training.

I got the job!

Yes! I got the job I was interviewed for a few weeks ago.

I had given up on it, as I had heard nothing. But yesterday morning the phone rang and the man at the other end offered me the post.

So next Monday morning at 9.00 a.m. I report for duty at Lakeland Ltd. in Kendal.

The work will be 12 hours a week over three nights working four hours per night. Just the right level at which to get back into the workplace.

I should be able to do this and still get my Incapacity Benefit. Thank you Lord. Thank you too for your prayers and concern.

What a weekend

After I wrote the last blog I took a bus to Werrington, just outside Peterborough.

When I got there I had only a Google map to show me where to go for the training weekend. So I saw a guy smoking outside Tescos and asked him how I could get there. He ended up driving me and giving me his complete spiritual history. Not what I was expecting, but I love it when God does things like that.

A few people arrived at the venue after me and then we got down to training and at about 9.30 p.m. (my usual bedtime) we went out and talked to people in the Three Horse Shoes pub. I had prayed about this before I went and particularly the person the Lord would direct me to there.

Well, this guy nodded "Hello" as soon as I walked in the door, so I chatted to him. Then he drifted off and I talked to his mate. Then the first man came back but it was time to go.

When we got back to the venue, there was a bit of a mix-up in accommodation. I was taken back to a cottage next door to the pub. A lady answered the door and seemed a bit perplexed to see a man at the door when she had been expecting a lady.

I was tired out by then, so I made for my room. As I was on my way I saw a photograph, not just any photograph, but the image of the first man I talked to in the pub.

"Is that your husband?" I asked my hostess. "Yes." she said.

By the time I left the next morning, having spent more time with her husband, who is not a believer, she was delighted that I had appeared at her door. Funny, how God works, isn't it!

Pray for this man, his name is Dudley.

Another one

YES, another one! Now I'm sitting in a McDonalds in Peterborough, using their free WiFi and lovin' it! O, and I'm eating as well.

I have just sauntered round Peterborough Cathedral, following the historical booklet in every little detail. The last one was about a grave digger called Robert Scarlett who died in 1594 aged an incredible 98 years old.

In that time he had buried two queens, and very famous ones at that. The first was Katherine of Aragon, Henry VIII's first wife. It was in divorcing her that Henry divorced the Church of England from the Church of Rome. She died near Peterborough and is buried in the Cathedral.

The second was Mary Queen of Scots who was executed near here and laid to rest for a few years in the same church. But her son, James VI of Scotland and James I of England, took over the throne and brought her bones to London after a few decades. What an incredible story! YES, another one!

This is his picture which is on the Cathedral wall-

First Class Too

So here I am rattling along in the First Class carriage of the train.

It is rolling a bit, but apart from that it is much better than Standard. Not so many people, real crockery, more space in the chair and more leg room (which isn't that important to me) and complimentary coffee.

As I sat here I got some free water and ice. Can't be bad. If you pay, you can get food served at your seat, and if you pay even more you can enjoy fantastic food in the dining car. What a life!

These extras were worth quite a bit, considering it cost the same as the Standard Class ticket.

First Class

I am writing this in the First Class Lounge at Leeds Station. I am on my way to Peterborough for Evangelism Training with Through Faith Missions.

When I came to book the ticket I saw that I could book First Class at the same price as Standard. So I did just that.

It's quite plush in here - air conditioning, free coffee and munchies, free WiFi access, etc. I'll tell you what First Class on a train is like when I get on to it in a few minutes time.

This morning I was in Leeds Library looking through the births, marriages and deaths in Ingleton between and 1813 and 1823. It made fascinating reading.

On Tuesday I was in Preston Records Office reading the will of a man from Ingleton who was famous throughout the North as a puppet master. I found out what he owned - property and puppetry - and who he left it to - his second daughter.

Why not the firstborn son or his firstborn daughter? Well, from reading the Parish Registers in Ingleton Library on Wednesday I learned that this poor woman had been jilted at the altar by a man who had got her pregnant. No wonder her father left her all he had. What stories are hidden in those ancient documents!

So, how did it go?

The interview went well. I think the woman who was doing it was as nervous as I was. She went through my appplication form with me. When we talked about depression she said she understood as she had had bouts of depression herself.

Then she showed me the factory. Lakeland specialises in kitchenware and bring it in trucks, store it in a huge warehouse on large metal shelves. As boxes are needed they are taken down to lower shelves from which they are picked by pickers. That would be my job if I am successful.

I should hear something today.

An interview!

Yes, an interview beckons.

Tomorrow at 11.00 a.m. I have to put on my best bib and tucker to meet with a member of the Personnel Team at Lakeland Ltd. (nothing to do with Florida) in Kendal to talk about a job.

This is quite a step for me, but I know it is in the right direction. I'll let you know how it goes.

There and back

After blogging about my great-great grand-dad I looked out of the window and saw that it was a lovely day for a bike ride.

So I packed a picnic and a bottle of water, shouldered my backpack and set off on two wheels towards Lancaster.

Two and a half hours later (including a coffee with Andrew Pye at his house in Claughton) I was sitting on a bench admiring the view of the Bay from - Morecambe!

Yes, I had ridden more than twenty miles by the time I got there. The last half of the ride was on a cycle path all the way from Caton. It made things so much easier. I didn't have to deal with road traffic, just pedestrians.

I celebrated with an orange juice at the newly updated Midland Hotel and rode back to Lancaster and caught the train back to Bentham. This was another first. The first time I had taken my bike on a train. What a day!

One Hundred and EIGHTY!!!

This is Post No 180. That reminded me of the English tradition of darts.

When the thrower manages to get all three darts into the triple 20 area the scorer shouts "One Hundred and EIGHTY!!!" just to let everyone know the highest possible score has been reached.

Just thought I'd let you know as well.

What happened yesterday?

Well, I took my first job application to the post on my bike and then went to the Library to discover my ancestors.


I use the Ancestry.com site. It is most helpful.

I followed the career of my great great grandfather, Matthew McCabe, as a printer in Edinburgh.

In 1841 he was living with his ma and pa in Toddricks Wynd just off the High Street and working as a journeyman printer.

By 1851 he had moved on to his own residence at 180 Pleasance and had a growing family of his own. He was now a Printer (compositor).

In 1861 I found him at 60 Cumberland St but this time describing himself as a Printer Overseer

By 1871 he was a Master Letter Press Printer still living at the same address.

I last caught up with him in 1881 when he was living at 1, Scotland Street and gloried in this description:-

Master Printer Employing 12 Men 12 Boys 6 Girls

I think he was rather proud of his progress. So was I.

I knew he was a printer and went into business for himself but to see his progress up the printing ladder laid out before me was quite an emotional experience.

We have two heirlooms from him: a writing desk which I have, and a walking stick which my father has. There is also a picture of him somewhere. When I find it I will post it here.

Not all plain sailing

I had to go and see another doctor yesterday. This one works on behalf of the Department of Work and Pensions. He asked me a lot of questions about how my condition affects my every day life.

He began by explaining why he was asking these questions and then stopped me a time or two to clarify things. This was very helpful as last time I sat there wondering why I was answering all these stupid questions. Now I know.

When we got home and Audrey went to work I discovered that though I am not so depressed any more, I am still dopey. In other words, I still get mixed up.

I found out that I have ordered a debit card for the wrong account because I did not realise we had two accounts with the same bank. I also have booked myself to be in Peterborough and Painswick at the same time.

These two errors started me down the slippery slope of self-doubt which I have been climbing out of lately. But by the grace of God I will overcome them and keep going.

When Audrey came back from work we went out for a meal to celebrate our anniversary. We went to the Marton Arms in Thornton-in-Lonsdale.

So ended our first thirty year together. I pray that the next thirty will be even better.

30 years ago today...

I married Audrey Brennand. It was at Ingleton Methodist Church (which appears on this blog as IMC). I want to thank God for the last 30 years. Some of it has not been easy (the last two haven't for sure) but it was all in God's plan for my life.

Just lately God has been taking me back over old ground and helping me find new life. I was saved in Australia in 1974 and I have heard quite a bit about Aussie and Christianity lately; I sang in a musical called Come Together by Jimmy and Carol Owens in 1975 and the Shepherds Choir recently began singing a piece from it. I went to Bible College in Berwick-upon-Tweed in 1975 as well. I met Audrey there. At CLAN recently the stall of the International Christian College, which grew out of it, brought back memories.

We got wed at IMC 30 years ago today and last night at the Monday Night Meeting we had prayer for our marriage. In 1978 we went on to study evangelism near Hastings and I will be going there on Mission in September. From there we went to Epping, Essex where I was a minister for three years. I went back there earlier this year .

Since 1982 we have lived in Ingleton and for most of that time attended IMC. Yesterday I was at the church a couple of times and thought quite a bit about that wedding day but also about the future. Although IMC has changed out of all recognition both spiritually and physically it is still a special place for us.

Our children came along: Matthew in 1984, Emma in 1986 and Nathan in 1988. They each appeared at either the Olympic or Commonwealth Games. And what do you know? The next Olympics starts in Beijing on Friday, right on cue.

As I get back to my roots and take stock again, I pray that Audrey and I will serve him with even greater strength in whatever time is left to us. Do pray for us.

Job search

I feel like a new kid on the block. Looking for a job after all these months away from work seems a bit strange. But it was great to ring the personnel office of a factory and ask for an application form. It felt good to talk to the staff member at an employment agency, and to ask one of my old bosses for a reference. Maybe I do feel better about myself.

The most I can legally work at the moment is 12 hours a week. If I do this I can still get state Incapacity Benefit while I work myself into earning my own living again. It's a good idea.

I went to see the Doctor again today. He was delighted at my feeling better as he didn't know what to do for me next. It felt good to make him feel better. The roles were reversed.

I have learned a lot about the medical system while I have been making so much use of it. My first idea was to be passive and let the professionals tell me what to do. Now I realise I have to be pro-active and take responsibility for my own progress. It's daunting but more mature.

Biking and Hiking

My mate Stewart Goudie from Edinburgh just wrote a blog about whizzing downhill on a bike being like life, and here's what I commented:

I love biking too and it sure feels great when you are whizzing downhill after straining up a hard incline. That's what I feel like at the moment, after going through a lot of depression and coming out into the light. But when you are flying downhill you have to watch you don't go too fast and come a cropper. That's why I'm going to get back into work gradually. Set off slowly and build up momentum is the best idea.

I have taken up biking over the last month or two and really enjoy it. I have been walking a bit more too. This has helped me in several ways. I feel better, because the endorphins get going, it is good for my physical health, and counsellors have told me (again and again) that exercise is an important way of getting to grips with depression.

Scots Wa hae!

Audrey and I just spent a week at CLAN Gathering in St. Andrews Fife Scotland. It was not a meeting for all the McCabes in North Britain but Christians Linked Across the Nation joining together in a large marquee in a field.

The worship, preaching and ministry were awesome, especially for me. I went up for prayer as often as I could. The climax came on Thursday evening when God was telling Scotland "It's Time" to see revival. He was telling me it's time to go back to work and to serve Him.

So from today I am looking for work again. I feel so much better. Praise God.

His yoke is easy!

I promised to tell you how yesterday went after I blogged about the yoke and burden of Jesus. It went well.

I fitted in all I needed to, and a bit more besides. This was an emergency visit to the dentist as I was getting pain in my lower right gums. Turns out there's an infected ulcer there and I have to take a week's course of antibiotics. I go off one medication and straight onto another!

But it was a good day. I didn't use a to-do list but I yoked myself to Jesus and he helped me pull my burden. I would remember about things and do them at just the right time. And decide to do things on the spur of the moment.

This was to go to the Library and find out about the life of a distant lady relative whose christening mug I rescued from an auction in Liverpool on Thursday. The mug told me her name Alma Fairmann and the date of her birth 1st April 1856.

Using ancestry.com I found out that she was born in Cramlington, Northumberland and lived later in Earsdon, near Whitley Bay until her father died in 1890. Then she and her mother moved to Hamilton, Lanarkshire to live with Alma's sister Agnes who had married my great-grandfather John McCabe.
There she served as house keeper. After that I lost her.

What an amazing thing the internet is. Before it came along finding out that information would have taken weeks of research, letter writing, interviews and some fruitless escapades to the North East and Glasgow no doubt. This took me an hour at the Library. How times change.

O, and in the night I got up and wrote an article for The Sun.

My yoke is easy

I am really tired today after spending yesterday in Liverpool seeing my Aunty's furniture being sold, visiting her in a residential home, coming home to make the tea for hungry lads and then going on with Audrey to Skipton to visit some friends.

I have a lot to do today as well because Audrey and I are off to St. Andrews Scotland for the CLAN Gathering tomorrow. So I began by telling Jesus how I felt and asking for his help. These words came to mind from Matthew's gospel:

"Come to me all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. My yoke is easy and my burden is light." (Matthew 11:28-30)

As I was praying and thinking about these words two images came into my mind. I have found two pictures to represent them.

The first one is of a yoke of oxen. These two animals are locked together with a piece of wood so that they work together in hauling something. The one cannot pull without the other.



The second is of an 18th Century waggon. These waggon horses are yoked together too.
This gives them more pulling power. Often the waggons were laid down with goods and passengers and were a heavy weight. But the yoking of the horses helped them to pull together.





That's what the Holy Spirit is telling me about today. Although I am tired from yesterday, and though I have a lot to do today, if I link myself to Jesus he will give me all the pulling power I need so that the yoke is easy and the burden is light, but it all gets done.

I'll let you know how today goes in tomorrow's blog.

Looking up

I suppose if you are on Cloud Nine you are looking down but I am looking up.

Things are improving in my life. I feel better physically and mentally, I have much more energy (yesterday I did lots of practical things) and although I am far from being positive I am not quite so negative in my thinking. These can only be good signs.

It may be a signpost towards the future. This way back to writing, perhaps. This way towards taking responsibility, perhaps. This way towards being confident, perhaps. Maybe this way towards writing that book for men who are depressed.

Cloud NIne

I had the most positive session ever with my NHS counsellor yesterday. When we were finished I felt on cloud nine. That's a place I haven't seen for months and months. I really felt like this picture.

Why is that I wonder? Well, it's a combination of things.

Coming off pills that were not helping but hindering me.

Prayer at the amazing events now taking place at IMC

Support from my wife Audrey through prayers and Bible verses.

Thinking positively.

As with all things to do with this ongoing depression I am waiting to see if it lasts. Whether it does or not, I am very glad to be here on Cloud Nine.

Great comments

Thanks for the comments, folks. Well, if you are human I mean. Three spambots left comment and left their evil links behind. But a kind reader pointed them out to me and they have disappeared into the ether, thank God.

And I do thank God that I am feeling so much better. The grass is greener, the blog words are redder and there is a better outlook all round.

Why did I get into a time warp (see blog titled Partially Blue)? Well, it was my use of the old terms Inland Revenue and Ministry of Labour. They now have very different names but that's how I remember them.

Keep reading and I'll keep writing

William Wilberforce

I have just been reading a review of a new book about William Wilberforce by William Hague on the blog of the Exiled Preacher

I made this comment:
"We need another Wilberforce today. I have been reading The Wilberforce Connection by Clifford Hill, published by Monarch in 2004. It gives a great review of the Clapham Sect and its work. If we took the principles and practical work of that group of Christians as an example we too could see good become fashionable again."

We could too. If we used this modern technology, effective campaigning and all the gifts God has given His Church, but particularly the Glorious Gospel, we could see good become fashionable again.

Hey! Guess what! No depression!

Partially blue

Hi guys

Sorry I haven't blogged for a bit but I have been suffering deep BLUES.

For a few weeks I have been taking antidepressants which were first prescribed by a psychiatrist back in August last year. They have been giving me headaches off and on and this last weekend has been abysmal. [Interesting word that, abysmal, the oxford enlish dictionary defines it thus: Of, pertaining to, or resembling an abyss; fathomless; deep-sunken.] This reflects my feelings too.

Nevertheless, here I am blogging again after nearly a month.

What else has happened? Well, by the grace of God, and help from the Inland Revenue and the Ministry of Labour I have got myself out of debt, but into a time warp.

I have read Veronica Zundel's book again and can't praise it enough.

I have also set up a second office in the spare bedroom from where this epistle is being dictated or rather sent out into the ether to see if anyone cares to read it.

Perhaps I was galvanised into action by an article I started to read in Saturday's Telegraph about a blogger who is so popular because she can't stand living in the North of England. I stopped reading because I was so annoyed [and jealous if I'm honest]. You can read it HERE, if you really want to.

I love living in the North. Just look at the side panel and you'll see why.

In the meantime, it's good to be back, but for how long...?

Geoffrey Barnard is unwell

That was a euphemism used for a writer who used to get so drunk he couldn't produce his column. It was turned into a play.

Well, Peter McCabe has been unwell, and not able or willing to blog.

You've guessed it. I was very depressed. I don't know why. Maybe it was because I went back onto some stronger tablets and they gave me physical side effects: bad headache, nausea and light-headedness. Maybe it was because I couldn't think of anything to write about. Maybe it was because I was trying to come to terms with not having any money and owing people money I don't have. Or maybe, and this is getting to the real crux of the matter, I just couldn't be bothered.

Well, I'm back now. I guess the tone is pretty weary, but, hey, that's the way I'm feeling.

Three positives during this time:

1. I really found the Veronica Zundel book "Crying for the Light" helpful and am reading it again.
2. I have started riding a bike. Not only does this save money of fuel but also gives me exercise and gets the good feelings going a bit.
3. Springwatch on BBC2 has been fantastic. To see God's creation in all its majestic and tiny glory has been thrilling. Maybe I'm improving. At least I'm blogging again.
   

Crying for the Light

I've found the book I've been searching for.

It's called "Crying for the Light" and it's by Veronica Zundel. Published by Bible Reading Fellowship it's a snip at £5.99. even if you are living on Incapacity Benefit.

Why? Because it is written for depressed Christians by a Christian who is depressed. I was reading it this morning - part of it is a section with meditations on the Psalms - and I thought "This is talking to me in a language I can understand." Most books on depression don't do that.

This book is saying "It's alright to be a Christian and be depressed." Maybe I don't need to feel ashamed any more. God give me the grace for that.

One year on

I went for a walk with Audrey yesterday and she reminded me that it was a year to the day since I told her I was giving up my job.

What has happened since then? Well, I have started this blog and kept it going, off and on.

I have had lots of counselling, from Lancaster University Counselling Service and the NHS.

I have started a business called Brook House Enterprises and produced three booklets about the lives of people who lived in Ingleton in the Victorian era.

I have also felt miserable a lot of the time and not understood what was going on in me and around me. But at the same time I have been exercising my faith to believe it was for my good and God's glory. Being depressed is hard to come to terms with, especially for a Christian.

This is because a lot of the messages you hear say "Rejoice in the Lord." It's like that silly smile that we used to wear in the 1970s which said "Smile God loves you". I never did like it.



But Audrey took me to Our Father's House in Lancaster on Sunday morning and during the sermon the preacher, Clive Corfield, said "The root of depression could be an orphan spirit." So I was first out for ministry and I am seeking to put into practice what Mark Stibbe says in his book "From orphans to heirs".

It's a long hard road, but I'll get there in the end. One year on, and I'm still not home yet. Why does it take so long?

Making a better pot

I heard an interesting sermon on Sunday. It was about "Roles and Gifts" and that we should not get the two mixed up.

The illlustration that stayed with me was that of a competition to make the best pot. One person made just one good pot, while another made 50 pots and won. Why? Because the person learnt from each pot he/she made how to make a better one.

Yesterday I found this quote:

"The confidence to recover from error is not a personality trait; it is a learned skill."
Richard Sennett, The Craftsman 2008

Internet Evangelism Day

One of the reasons I first started blogging was to use the internet as a way of reaching people for Jesus. I do hope my faith shines through, even in the darkest moments.

One of the things which pushed me blogwards was Internet Evangelism Day. It takes place on the last Sunday of this month (the 27th) and can take as much or as little time in your church service as you want.

Have a look at the link.

I came, I read, I copied

I have spent the last three days in the British Library Manuscripts Reading Room going through the letters which Sir Arthur Conan Doyle wrote to his mother over a period of half a century.

Looking into them was like looking into his heart. The first letter was written when he arrived in Preston as a little boy on his way to Stonyhurst School. The last was written from a ship on the high seas where he was with his second family, enjoying the perks of a highly successful writing career.

The letters were not in date order. At times they just seemed to be thrown in any old how. One minute he was living in Southsea, thanking his mother for sending him £5 and keeping some back for boots. The next he was writing to her from Sussex saying that he had bought some of his neighbour's property and was going to build a garage and a chauffeur's house on it . There were a lot of years in between.

There was no evidence whatsoever to persuade me that the name Sherlock Holmes had anything to do with Ingleton. But it did furnish me with enough information to write about Mrs. Doyle, his mother who lived in the hamlet of Masongill, just a couple of miles from here, and also about Bryan Charles Waller, her lodger, landlord and possible lover.

Look out for the fruits of my labours.

I'm on the train!

I'm always up for something new, and this is it. I'm writing this on a train.

It's the National Express 1205 service from Leeds to London King's Cross. We have just left Doncaster and the next stop is Retford.

I'm on my way to the British Library to do more Sherlock snooping. This time I'll be reading letters that Sir Arthur Conan Doyle wrote to his mother in Masongill.

Will it hold any clues? Elementary, my dear reader, elementary.

Passionate for the Passion

The BBC has screened a four part series on the last week in the life of Jesus called The Passion. I watched a couple of episodes and on the whole I thought it was good. The actor playing Jesus didn't grab my attention straight away, but he soon did.

It was a realistic portrayal of the events and Pilate and Caiaphas came over as more rounded figures. But it was strange that Pilate had an Ulster accent. Nevertheless I think it was a very God-centred event during this year of Hope 2008.

I'm dreaming of a white Easter

This has been one of the strangest Eastertides I have ever known. It was certainly the earliest.

Good Friday was on the day that Spring began and it was bitterly cold as we trudged round Ingleton following the cross.

Easter Saturday saw me and Audrey out for a long walk with Friends of DalesRail. We met up at a snowy Ribblehead and followed a circuitous route through Chapel-le-Dale and the outlying farms, back to the viaduct. It was an easy walk but in amongst sunshine and snow showers it made for interesting weather.

This is what I saw out of my front door on Easter Sunday morning:



What a time it was: more like Christmas than Easter. Yet we celebrated Christ's resurrection in no uncertain terms at IMC. The setting and standards of the service were superb. This was very encouraging as it marked the 25th anniversary of Audrey and me attending there.

Easter Monday was spent reading and walking in the snow again. Very relaxing. But now it's back to work. Well, not work but occupying myself until I am fit for paid work.

In search of Sherlock

I put my deerstalker hat on yesterday and went to Liverpool in search of Sherlock. It was not Mr. Holmes I was looking for and yet he had a lot to do with it.

His creator, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, was a frequent visitor to Ingleton as his mother lived in the nearby hamlet of Masongill. His first marriage was at Thornton-in-Lonsdale parish church which is just a mile and a half from Ingleton.

Anyway, I've got a friend called Andy Ive who has this theory that Conan Doyle got the name for his famous sleuth from round here. You can see it all on Ingleton in Wikkipedia.

I am skeptical myself. The theory is based on the facts that there was a family of Sherlocks involved with Ingleton church and that lots of places near Masongill and Thornton are called Holmes.

Yesterday I was tracking down Cornelius Sherlock whose nephew was a vicar of Ingleton, whose brother was killed by lightening at Ingleton station and who designed St. Mary's church in Ingleton when it was rebuilt in 1886. He was an architect in Liverpool.

I found his obituary in the local history section of the Central Library and then looked in at the Picton Library, a beautiful round room which he designed after the British Library Reading Room.

Then I went up the street to the Walker Art Gallery which was also his creation. To think that we had such an inspired architect to design our parish church made me even more proud and glad that I live in Ingleton.

Here's the inside and the outside of the Picton library.





I'm still not convinced by the Holmes theory though.

Hope battle

Four score years ago our forefathers abandoned a millenium of faith and hope. Leaving the shores of the Christian faith and pulling up its anchor of hope the ship of state floated off into the sea of new morality. Now today we fight a spiritual battle in that ship.

We fight on two fronts. Members of the crew are destroying each other and the elements are destroying the ship.

Just look at the headlines today. A girl is abducted in Dewsbury and looking for her amongst family is like looking for a needle in a haystack. Why? Because she is one of many children born to her mother by different fathers.

A 15 year old girl dies in Goa, on her own. She too is one child amongst many step-children. Is this the brave new world our leaders wanted in 1968?

On the world scene we face an economic depression. Why? Because none of the American banks trust each other with money any more. It used to be said "My word is my bond." Now we say "I'll do what's best for me."

O for the anchor of hope to be cast out again by our ship of state so that we can weather the storm ahead. O for our crew to rally to the flag of the Christian faith and restore order to this chaos. This is what Hope 2008 is all about.

Can a church get too big?

Heaven knows if it's true but maybe a church can grow too big. I have spent a quarter of a century praying and working for IMC (Ingleton Methodist Church) to grow, and it has done. But yesterday morning I felt lost and alone.

Maybe it was my depression, but maybe it's the fact that you can't get to know everyone any more.
When I shared this with someone they said we should concentrate on the housegroups as sources of fellowship. I'm sure that's right, but it's sad that a church can grow to a size where people feel left out. I knew it in theory but now I've experienced it in practice, and it hurts.

Sir Sleepalot

Why do I sleep such a lot?

Yesterday I started off the day in the usual way at the computer and then took Nathan to Kirkby Lonsdale. Then it was back to Ingleton to get my front tire fixed, attend the IMC Coffee Morning and the CofE shopping service.

After lunch I was off hawking my books round local Post Offices and newsagents, and ended up back in Kirkby Lonsdale to pick Nathan up again.

Before and after tea I was on the computer. Then, at 8.00 p.m. I went downstairs to watch Gardeners World on BBC2. I managed to see a segment during which curious Carol Klein was admiring primroses in Devon, but after that I slept on the settee for an hour and a half before going off to bed.

As I recovered consciousness enough to climb the stairs I asked Audrey "Why am I like this?" She didn't have an answer of course. Do you?

A mere word

God spoke to me this morning. Challenging it was. I decided to read the 14th chapter of Proverbs as this is the 14th day of March. Beware, the ides of March are tomorrow!

When I got to the 23rd verse it hit me like a sledgehammer. "All hard work brings a profit, but mere talk leads only to poverty." It led me to set up a motto for my business, Brook House Enterprises: Work - Profit, Talk - Poverty.

Then I thought about the little word "mere". Do you know it has 13 different meanings according to the Oxford English Dictionary? One little word and all those meanings. Let my life not be mere talk but hard work. I wish. I pray...make me enterprising.

Sorry

Sorry I haven't been round here for a while. But I have been round the country. Over the last week or so I have been in Grimsby, Stafford and Painswick, Gloucestershire.

I went to Grimsby to watch Morecambe FC in the second leg of the Northern Final in the Johnstone Paints Trophy. They drew 0-0 but lost 0-1 on aggregate.

The next day I went off to Stafford with a group from IMC to listen to Nancy Beach from Willow Creek talk about releasing Arts in your Church. It showed us where we were as a church and where we could be if we put Willow principles into practice.

Over the weekend the family travelled down to Painswick to help my Dad enjoy his 85th birthday. We had a big celebration meal in a village bistro.

What's Doncaster got?

Not a lot, sadly. I went there yesterday with the express purpose at looking at the Minster in its 150th anniversary year. It was there in all its magnificence but locked up because of vandalism. What a shame. It looked so inviting from the train when I went to London back in November, that I wanted to see more of it. But I couldn't.

I found Doncaster very depressing. The streets are drab and so are the people. It's not proud of its heritage and seems to knock down anything old or shut it and board it up.

It has a great railway heritage. There was a locomotive works there which employed 4,500 men who built the Flying Scotsman and the Mallard, which still holds the world speed record for steam locomotive power. That's something to be proud of. But there wasn't much about it in the museum.

No, I was very disappointed with Doncaster and I hope somebody's praying for it, because it sure needs it.

Prozac does not work

I see that the top news is that Prozac doesn't work. Maybe that's why I kept feeling miserable when I was on it for three years off and on. But how does it explain the withdrawal symptoms I felt when I came off it back in the autumn?

It must have been doing something to me if I felt so ill when coming off it.

(see other post labelled "pills")

Post 150

This is the 150th post on this blog. Perhaps I should have a party.

This blog is bit like my life, full of fits and starts. Sometimes I blog for days on end and sometimes I just leave it.

Well, this has been a strange week, when we have been saying farewell to Audrey's mother, Alice Brennand. The funeral was on Wednesday and there was a memorial service yesterday. Today we have to pick ourselves up and move on.

What a post-modern cliche that phrase has become: "I've moved on." What it really means is: "I'm leaving you with all this mess so I can go and do what I want." It is individualism contracted into a few words.

And guess who's picking up the pieces? That's right, the Christian church.

The best laid plans...

"The best laid plans of mice and men oft times gang astray" wrote Robert Burns with homespun wisdom. Well, it certainly came true in my life this week.

Wednesday morning I was all packed and ready to go down to London after spending the previous day with Audrey wandering around in Swaledale. But at just past 7.00 a.m. we got the news that my mother-in-law Alice Brennand had died. So the trip was off.

I have been here at home instead of London. I was supposed to go down and look at some letters written by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, the creator of Sherlock Holmes, to his mother who lived for many years in a hamlet called Masongill which is two miles outside Ingleton. I want to write about her.

Anyway, as it happened, I had told my friend Andy Ive about this on Monday night. It was he who infomred me of their existence in the first place. He said he would be down in London on Thursday and we arranged to meet at the British Library to look at them together.

I left a message on his home answering machine to say that I wouldn't be there but he had gone by then and so rang me on Thursday afternoon to say that he had looked at them (there are 800 altogether) and that they mainly date from the 1870s and 1890s. He suggested putting a timeline of Conan Doyle's life down on paper so we can tell where he was at when he wrote each letter. This I was going to do on the train on the way down.

Ah, well. There'll be another time for that I'm sure.

At the moment I have to support Audrey and her Dad in their loss.

A week of contrasts

This week will see me in two contrasting places. Today Audrey and I are going walking in Swaledale. The weather promises to be excellent and I doubt whether we will see many people, although the Springlike atmosphere will bring out other walkers , I am sure.

On Thursday I will be in Central London at the British Library poring over documents. In that building and on the trains and streets I will see hordes of people, as it is one of the world's great cities. What greater contrast could there be?

My books are selling!

Well, they're booklets really, but they're selling. I've produced two so far: Ingleton's Dickensian Characters (IDC), and Voices of Old Ingleton (VOI) They are each 20 pages long, sell for £2.00 and the stock is going fast.

The fun of being a small business is quite amazing. You get into things which I thought were so boring: invoices and cash flow, etc. and you actually find them of more interest. That's because they are generating money.

I've got another one on the boil - Marking Time in Ingleton (MTI). I aim to publish it on Leap Year Day as it is about time.

My son Matthew came back after a month in Turkey yesterday. He is going to design a webite for me.

Things are really taking off.

Hull - the full story - with some pictures

I've just got back from the trip of a lifetime. And it was to Hull. I went looking for history, and I found it round every corner. I went looking for architecture and it hit me from every direction. But it was not those memories I came away with at the end of the day, but the friendly attitude of the people there. And I did it all in six hours.

From arriving at Hull station at 10.30 a.m. to leaving it at 4.30 p.m. I managed to discover the answers to questions I had asked my self about Hull for a long time. I also learned a lot more about it.
It was just a matter of time.

I went there because I kept asking myself "What is it about Hull?" By this I meant, why does that city have such an independent spirit. Why does it have its own train service? Why does it have its own communications company? How did it produce such a character as Wilberforce who thought so differently to most people of his generation?

Finding my way around was difficult at first because I could not see a signpost outside the station. But thank God for the internet. I got out my map downloaded from Google and decided the city centre must be that way, and it was.

From then on it was pretty plain sailing, as things should be in a major port. This was because I kept seeing huge buildings which were landmarks. The first one was the maritime museum with its three domes.

What a magnificent structure, built to impress and it did. It was there I first came across the friendliness of the natives. The receptionist had no idea what I was talking about when I asked about Hull having a trade treaty with the Baltic, but she pointed me upstairs and let me take pictures. Here's one of the grand staircase.

I soon found what I was looking for. The city was part of the Hanseatic Treaty in the 13th century. This meant they could trade on good terms with towns in Scandanavia, the Baltic and the Low Countries. I soon took this in and was ready to head off again when a passing glass cabinet caught my eye. It contained part of a ship used in those parts in 1500 BC. And it contained a hull.
But that loaded me with another question: why are the bottom of ships called the hull? Is it named after this town? Pondering this I headed off to the next thing.

This was a walk around the place, following my nose and looking in every nook and cranny at what Hull was like. The bridges over the River Hull caught my attention. Huge half cylinders rear back on themselves to lift the bridges high to let vessels through.

Then I found the Wilberforce Monument, right in front of Hull College. I had my lunch in front of it in Queen’s Garden’s, gazing up at the figure of the diminutive Wilberforce atop his column. He looks like a terracotta warrior up there.


So they stand, Wilberforce in Hull, Nelson in London and Wellington in Liverpool. The other two had won their battles at Trafalgar and Waterloo and but Wilberforce had won his over the hearts and minds of the people at the same time. His name on the base was surrounded by a victor’s wreath just to make sure the reader understood this fact.


Then I discovered the Guild Hall. It is a magnificent structure. I walked right round it, admiring the stones and sculptures. Huge stone sculptures flourish on the roof. Then I went inside and the friendly (of course) receptionist let me have a booklet explaining the inside. From this I learned that the roof sculptures represent Maritime and Strength. This was the splendour of Hull writ large.


After walking down an avenue of busts showing the great and the good of Hull from yesteryear, I came across King Edward 1 at the bottom of the staircase. He was the monarch who granted Hull it’s borough status in 1299.

The great and the good were all men, of course, until I found the likeness of a lady. Unlike the others she did not have great letters describing her life on the plinth, but I could just make out who she was as it was written on the statue itself. Here she is.


Turning round I saw a long corridor of doors leading off left and right. Then I was up the stairs to see a display cabinet almost as glittering as Manchester United’s trophy cabinet, but not quite.

Then I went into a room of magnificent proportions and design which had been set out for a talk. Here a security man got talking to me and took me all round the building showing me things and explaining them. This was the friendliness of Hull writ large.
We went into the Council Chamber and the corridor containing coats of arms from visiting ships. The Mayor is Admiral of Hull and has the right to visit any ship in port. Then, as a meeting was ending, we could look into the Mayor’s Dining Room. Just to see the great and the good in paintings could have been enough, but to also admire the stained glass windows was something else. I shook the security man warmly by the hand when we parted.

Then it was back to the centre and the Tourist Information Centre. I had given this a wide berth to start with, as I like to discover things on my own. But I thought there was to be a walk round the Old Town at 2.00 p.m. But I was told they don’t start until after Easter. But the friendly (of course) tourist assistant sold me a guided walk based on finding fish carved into the pavement on the way. Well after a while I forgot the pavement fish but I enjoyed looking at the sites at eye level and above.

I started off just next door at the City Hall. The friendly (of course) receptionist let me in to hear the fag end of an organ recital in the magnificent concert hall which reminded me a bit of Leeds Town Hall. How fortunate we are that the riches of the Industrial Revolution has left us with such a legacy of magnificent buildings, without and within.


Leaving the City Hall I immediately lost my way on the fish walk but stumbled across Kingston Communications (KC). This company has been in existence as a private telephone company for over 100 years. Its history was one of the things which attracted me to Hull. So I enquired of the friendly (of course) receptionist if there was any booklet on the history of the company. She went out of her way to help me. She rang upstairs to enquire and went and got me the booklet. What service!

As soon as I’d got my KC booklet I miraculously understood the directions of the fish walk and started off again. I noticed that the outside of the City Hall is festooned with the likenesses and names of famous artists. But the ones on the North side are much more weather beaten than the ones on the South side.

I hadn’t gone very far when I came across the place which the city claims was the birthplace of the Civil War. This rather dubious claim in based on the fact that the then Warden of Hull would not let King Charles 1 enter the city in April 1642 on orders from Parliament.

Using my knowledge of history I would say that although this event definitely took place, the claim that Hull was the birthplace of the Civil War is a bit tenuous. There were lots of other conditions and events that led up to it. Nevertheless here was yet anther example of Hull’s uniqueness.

Another one was soon to come on the horizon in the shape of Holy Trinity Church. It is the largest Parish Church in England. I went inside and the friendly (of course) volunteer told me they were closing in 20 minutes but I could wander around and take photos as much as I wanted. That galvanised me into action.

I meandered around looking at plaques on the walls and taking snaps of any that interested me. A couple of them were comparatively new, only ten or twenty years old. I was the last one out at closing time (of course).


My next steps took me to the statue of Andrew Marvell. He was born in Hull, was educated at the Grammar School which stands behind him now, and went on to be the MP and a poet.
A line from his most famous poem, To a Coy Mistress, was quoted on the plinth.

Then it was on to the Humber and another statue, that of ?Edward de la Pole, the first mayor of Hull. He lived up to his name by being surrounded by poles with flags of many different nations fluttering in the breeze.

On again, past the river surge barrier to find the Museum Quarter and Wiberforce House Museum. The friendly (of course) receptionist explained where I could find what, but the lack of time meant that I worked my way round the exhibition about the life and work of Wilberforce in about 20 minutes, and then I was off again, making my way back to the station.

When nearly reached it I came across the War Memorial. Well, two memorials actually. The first one was to those locals who had perished in the Boer Wars at the end of the 19th century and the other of course was to those who died in the llater World Wars.


This got me thinking (again) - was it not in Hull that people first began putting up memorials to those who were fighting and then to those who had been killed in the First World War?

What, not another claim to uniqueness and independence? Yes indeed and rightly so. As I was coming away on the train at the end of a day walking the streets I wondered if the reason for Hull’s being so unique and independent is its remoteness.

Hull is out on a limb. It's miles from anywhere and yet it has been a borough for over 700 years. It has looked Eastward to the sea for its income and not Westward to the land. It is cosmopolitan in that it has had influences from Scandinavia, the Baltic and the Low Countries. It has had an influence far greater than one would have thought. What a unique, independent and very friendly place Hull is.