My mother has been to stay, just gone home today. She was anxious to visit her father’s grave. Plus a rebellious bike ride, good running and yet another UTI.
Highgate Cemetery in north London is, as we have learned, a strangely fascinating place. I arranged for us to have a guided tour while we were taking my Mum to visit her father’s grave in the Cemetry.
It was a poignant time for my mother as she was quite young when her father died and she never got to attend his funeral. It was during the Second World War when it was common for children to be evacuated out of London. Her parents stayed behind in London and her father then became ill and died in hospital. Mum’s mother paid her a visit in the West Country but couldn’t bring herself to break the news that her father had died, although my mum had figured it out with her own mother being dressed in black. It was only a few weeks later the terrible news was confirmed, after her father’s funeral had taken place.
During our latest visit to the cemetery the staff had kindly cleared away a lot of the undergrowth to allow access to the grave. They even laid on a golf buggy to save my mum having to walk up the hill. We spent a few minutes there amongst the London wilderness and there is a certain beauty with nature gradually taking over and reabsorbing its inhabitants.
The guided tour was fascinating. In the above photograph our guide is on the right with my mother on the left. We are walking around the Circle of Lebanon and the various vaults of wealthy Londoners. Those individuals would often have their names and addresses carved into the door frame – Mr Smith of Hampstead – to convey their affluence and status to anyone drifting by.
If a family vault wasn’t quite your taste, you could have your bodily remains filed away in the catacombs at the very highest point of the cemetery, it was thought to be somewhat closer to heaven. The catacombs seemed like a Victorian filing cabinet for coffins, with each coffin having been slid into its own little slot. Some were sealed to prevent interference, some had a window so the intact coffin could be viewed and others were sealed up. Others were empty, presumably purchased but not used.
All this seemed very bizarre and strange. As much as the Victorians made a huge amount of industrial and social progress at the time, I think they got it totally wrong with their obsessiveness about death and their attempts to improve their chances of salvation by having an upmarket funeral. As a Christian society, perhaps they ought to have known better. Some of them did, such as Michel Farraday (wikipedia link) who was a scientist known for his work on electricity in that era. He was offered a knighthood and refused it. He was offered a place in Westminster Abbey upon his death but refused that offer too, always citing his simple Christian faith. Instead he was interred in the dissenter’s section of the cemetery and only some time later on was a simple stone erected. I can identify with that man!
Another UTI
I have been feeling a little unwell this week, somewhat out-of-sorts and drained. This is nothing to do with a brisk 6.5 mile run on Monday, a 10 mile bike ride on Tuesday, a few swims and a Parkrun on Saturday.
While that might be a bit of bad news, the positive news is that I think it is now cleared through drinking loads and loads of water over a 48 hour period. While I have felt somewhat washed out and full at times, I have at least kept the urinary tract flushed out at a rate which is faster than those pesky bacteria can multiply. And it beats yet another course of antibiotics. Having tested myself quite a few times since, happily the dip stick is completely clear now.
Oh before I forget, I did feel somewhat rebellious while I was enjoying a bike ride one afternoon. It is always such a dilemma when you come across a ‘Road Closed’ sign. Decisions, decisions…. Well I decided to press on and I didn’t encounter any difficulties or even any road works. What was complete bliss was ambling along all over the road and knowing I was unlikely to encounter any cars coming the opposite way. In fact the only people I encountered were fellow cyclists, though they were far more compliant in riding on the correct side of the road.
John Lewis to the rescue?
We are warming up to decorating our dining room, the biggest room here at the Quirky Museum. Knowing how we need to get this right and, being mindful of our different tastes, we put the work out on our need for an interior designer. We were poised to engage one in the village when we happened to clock an offer from John Lewis, almost everyone’s favourite department store.
They will design a colour scheme for us, all free of charge. Naturally they will be recommending some of their own merchandise to finish a room off and, to be honest, I’m open to that if they can come up with the goods. So we have made an appointment and will be sending some photographs in beforehand – I can’t wait!
Once the room is finished, this will enable us to fulfil a bit of a dream here. We long to be sociable here in the village. We have a vision of inviting a stranger in for a meal, perhaps a neighbour with a friend who we’ve never met, a kind of supper club, perhaps. To make connections and enable other people to make connections with others, to be the catalyst for all kinds of things – that’s how brilliant things can grow!