Isn't She Lovely

On March 20, 2010 my Gran celebrated her 95th birthday. Eva May Forster was born in 1915, at home in Northern England in a place called Sunderland, County Durham. She was named after Aunty Eva who lived with the family of Forsters.

The year she was born, the Allies were at war with Germany in the first World War, or the Great War as it came to be known. The sitting Monarch was King George V and the Prime Minister was H.H. Asquith, Liberal and coalition.

By 1915 the first World War had been raging for over a year, and most of Europe was now involved.

Gran's mother's name was Mary Jane Liddell. She was also born in Sunderland. She was an only child. Her mam and dad were care takers at a local school and lived in a house on the grounds. Being an only child, Mary Jane never went out to work, her job was to help her mother keep the school clean. Her mam died at just 40 years old on April 21st, 1927 after having nine children.

Gran's father's name was James Forster, also from Sunderland. Great Grandad Forster was a coal miner for 34 years at Monkwear Mouth Colliery.

He was a territorial soldier in World War II eventually becoming a Sergeant Major. He was away in the war for four years and spent most of his time fighting in France.

Gran remembers him as a very humorous man but quite strict in his ways. He was a good singer and also was quite good at tap dancing. He was also a very good overall dancer. With my late Uncle Jimmy a virtual one man band with instruments tied all over himself, and Grandad Forster dancing and the girls singing and clapping along, it was despite the terrible hardships, a jovial loving family.

Gran came from a large family. She had three brothers, Edward (Ted), born Feb 29th, George born Aug 3rd, 1911, Jimmy born in 1922. Gran also had five sisters, Doris, Mary, Hetty Edie and Edna. Gran's mother Mary Jane Forster died of starvation trying to feed Edna. She lay under the stairs for five days before burial as was the custom.

Gran shared close quarters with her sisters. There was one room for the girls and one bunk bed. Two slept on top and three slept on the bottom. She did not have a special toy or blanket because there was no money for those things. They were lucky to have bed clothes at all. The toilet was behind the house, outside.

Gran and her siblings lived in a small miner's house with the rest of my family. There was one big living room, two bedrooms, in a very friendly neighbourhood where you watched out for each and help when you could. Nobody had anything so it was hard. The houses were terraced with no running water indoors. The tap was down the back yard. No bathroom inside and once a week we all got bathed in front of the coal lit fire in a big tub...youngest to oldest and finally, the dog. We were all clean and happy. And I complain that I've never had an ensuite bathroom. Her memories put it all in perspective...the greed and frivolous comforts we have come to expect.

Many of my Gran's memories surround Church. She attended Sunday school every Sunday afternoon in a primitive Methodist Chapel for two hours. There were, if it was peaceful, Church Concerts which she enjoyed very much.

Gran says they all dressed up "posh" for Good Friday Services. All the Chapels met in the town square, sang lots of hymns then walked back to the individual Chapels where the children received an orange.

At Easter, they boiled eggs, one commodity not lacking. Everyone had chickens. They coloured the eggs and then took them to a place called Tunotell Hill and we used to roll our eggs down the Hill. She said they had great fun on those occasions!

Gran said the way they celebrated Thanksgiving was to take food and vegetables to the Chapel. There was a nice service and then all the food was given to the Salvation Army and distributed to the needy, of course, her family was one. To this day, she is an avid supporter of the Salvation Army.

Christmas was another example of doing what you can with what little you have. Gran told me they always hung up their stockings over the fire place and they were filled with one apple, one orange, a few nuts and a bright new penny. We only had one gift at Christmas and it was generally clothing.

Gran looked a little sad as she recalled that the children never had any money, so making or buying a gift for their parents was not an option.

As I mentioned, Gran had no special doll because there was no money for that sort of thing. But I suspect she was a bit of a tom boy in her and she loved to compete with boys. They played in the street with skippings ropes and spinning tops.


Grans' favourite place to enjoy herself was the Leachouse and says they were "lucky to have lived by the rocky Northern coast."

Interestingly, Granny does not ever remember having a big snow storm...no snow at all. No ice skating or sledding, because there was no snow!

Granny Falls in Love

Gran was almost sixteen when she first met my grandfather, a big tall handsome man with the biggest hands, named Ernest Peckover. She loved everything about him. Their love was simple. Cycling to the coast, long walks on the beaches. Thankfully Grandad Forster approved of Ernie and thought he was a great man. He was right. Now this is where the southern part of my family joins the northern part.

Gran's maternal grandmother was named Hetty Forster of which she has few memories. She was a very stout lady and lived to be in her seventies. She had two boys and two girls.

Gran knows little about her paternal grandfather except that he was a sea man.

Gran remembers being very poor and there was never any money for crafts for school projects. She loved school however and did well. She was taught to sew and knit at school and excelled at both, often making my clothes as a youngster.

Gran went to an elementary school named Thomas Street School until she was eleven years old and then she sat the exams and passed for the Grammar school in 1927, making her father very proud of her achievement. He bought her a real leather school satchel that she treasured. Her favourite subjects included History, Geography and Elocution. She also enjoyed all sports. Take note: There were 54 pupils under one teacher. She wore a uniform that was Green and Yellow and a gym uniform that was a navy blue tunic with a navy blouse with white shoes.

During this time, the war was gaining momentum and times were filled with uncertainty. However Gran recalls with such innocence, her friendships as a child.

"I had maybe two special friends, we used to go to the swimming baths, one movie per week if my Dad had a penny to spare. We played field hockey every Saturday morning. It was all fine.

It is remarkable to me that at a time when Zeppelins raided London for the first time and chaos reigned in southern England, her memories are sweet and childlike.

Gran enjoyed cycling, and she often cycled to Brighten over night, 42 miles, slept under the pier for a few hours and then cycled up to London to Hyde Park and out into the country at Blue Bell time. They always made a stop in the Country for the Chapel Lad Races. She always won!

She says she never went camping because she hated all the "creepy crawlers." Well, at least my daughter came by that fear honestly.


However tragedy did hit the family on June 10, 1956. Brother Jimmy, a paratrooper and Sergeant Major as was his father, was shot down by his own men in a terrible accident in Cyprus. He was just 34 years of age. My Gran adored her older brother and the whole family was deeply shaken by his loss.

My Gran is a fabulous cook and her sausage rolls are a favourite with everyone who visits. She also makes a delicious old fashioned rice pudding that was my favourite.

But as a young girl, she didn't do much of the cooking. Her older sisters took care of that and Gran did the cleaning (I expect this was because she was so factedious even then)

Her responsibilities including laying out her Dad's Pit clothes for his job in the mines and to fill his pit bottle with water for him to drink.

Gran says her mother had no choice but to be a great cook because she had nine children to feed. They survived on stews and meat pies when meat was available and affordable and always a roast on a Sunday with yorkshire puddings and gravy, a tradition we still carry on in the family. A "joint" (roast) can go a long way she used to tell me.

At 95, she is still going strong. She's hard of hearing and suffering from dementia, but she's still with us at times and shares memories and laughs as always. I am so blessed to have her still with us to remind us of how far we have come from her poverty stricken childhood.

When a Friend Lets You Down

Focus,not on the rudenesses of others,
not on what they've done or left undone,
but on what you have & haven't done yourself.
-Dhammapada


It feels good to be back again. I had a health setback followed by a period of insecurity when I wasn't sure I had anything of interest to say anymore.

However, "life" changed that. After digesting a recent disappointment, I took the time to really "think" about what happened, my choices, and accepting that I was wrong about someone I deeply cared for....and not for the first time in my life. After much reflection I determined that looking after yourself emotionally is not selfish...it is essential. We must always be mindful of our hearts and minds. They are worth protecting. If it means letting go of a relationship that is causing you grief, then that is what you have to do. Of course, there are always diplomatic ways to do this..the intent is not to create unnecessary pain in someone but to move away and on to a place that is good and right for you. I have a few select friends who are true, kind and understanding. Those are the relationships I choose to focus on now.

I must make a clarification about an earlier post. I was writing about my boring name "Linda". I have always been disappointed that my parents named me after a character on the Danny Thomas Show. I felt I deserved better. Having said that I am very grateful I was not called "Paris" or "Hunter". I"ve been to Paris, but I'm not a Hunter.

My friend, man of Spanish origins recently enlightened me about my name. "Linda" or "Leenda" as I now refer to myself when speaking to him is actually a Spanish girls name and means "Beautiful". It is derived from the the "Melinda" roots, though the English use Linda the most.

"Linda" is a feminine-gender word in Spanish and my friend Pedro tells me that it means several things but is frequently used as an adjective meaning "pretty" or "lovely". If it refers to a moment in time, then it means "marvelous". If is used with singing and dancing then it means something "done beautifully" or "Baila lindo". How great is THAT?? I also learned that "Linda" was a popular song sung by Jack Lawrence in 1946. Lawrence named the song after a little five year old girl named Linda who great up to be Linda Eastman McCartney! Thank you for enlightening me Pedro. From now on when I do something beautifully,I will say "BAILA LINDO!"

Buddhists have a wonderful saying: "Life goes by quickly, therefore go slowly." This morning I woke up, had my cup of tea and read the news. Now I am a big news hound - I come by it honestly as a former journalist. I have a very busy mind and am very curious about the world. However, I have learned that to keep my mind still I must tune out the news. Not all the time, to be sure. I could never do that because I am so interested in our world. There are times however, when I am reading about catastrophic events like the Gulf Oil spill, political mess ups and G8 and G20 summits with obscene amounts of money being thrown their way, that I have to turn it off.

If I lived in Louisiana, I would be there on those beaches, cleaning up and helping those poor pelicans and turtles. But it is not possible and I feel an overwhelming sense of helplessness when I read and view the images. It again goes back to taking care of your emotional self. I can't change the world, but I can write about it and take a break to reflect if I need to. That's okay and probably makes for better writing and a better understanding of the issues.

Sadly, I have had to give up riding my horse. Blackie was put out to pasture and I had just started riding a beautiful huge reddish coloured mare when I took ill...it may have been allergy related, triggered by the hay, mites on the horses, etc. So I have been advised to stay away from horseback riding...the occasional trail ride is okay but not the day to day. I drove to the stable recently and had a quick visit with the horses. They were outside and enjoying each other's company. The herd was running together with not a care in the world. I'm grateful for having tried to ride again and enjoying it as much as I did. It felt really good to ride and be able to take loving control of an animal so large and intimidating. I will continue to visit.

I had made a bucket list of things that I wanted to experience, so I will go back to the list and look for another adventure. Feel free to make suggestions! Rock climbing anyone?

Kind Regards,
Leeenda Grace!