About Me

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Worcester, Worcestershire, United Kingdom
Born in the year of the Coronation, I'm a Baby Boomer. In April of this year I decided I too would have a Diamond Jubilee celebration and completely change my life and that of my Husband's in the process

Friday, 10 November 2006

So Sad

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                                     Emily is on the right.

I’m so upset. I came home from school after a good morning. I gave my Remembrance Day presentation to the year group for our classroom Assembly. I’d made a few improvements on last year and it went down very well, although it could have been better. I fluffed my words a couple of times, which didn’t bother anyone except me.

So when I got home I was feeling quite happy. I decided to go and plant some Wild Daffodil bulbs down in my wilderness garden.

As I went down the garden Abigail came to meet me on the bridge and I could tell she was upset. There was no sign of Emily and I supposed she had found her way through the fence, she’s done it a couple of times before.

While I was planting the bulbs I came across a lot of feathers. I think it’s quite safe to assume that Emily is no more. She was a large , heavy bird and there was no sign of blood, nor was there any feather’s other than in one small area. I think it may have been a Buzzard, as a fox would have to have left a trail of feathers as he dragged her away.

I feel awful for Emily and also for Abigail, who is distraught, she kept running around as if something was chasing her. When I went near the Ark she followed me and ran straight up to bed, so I’ve locked her away for the rest of the day.

I don’t know what to do now. Do I let her out tomorrow, knowing she will probably suffer the same fate. She loves having the freedom of our large garden. She will be so lonely and miserable being shut in her run.

Do I get her a friend from the ‘Rescue a Battery Hen’ people? But they might not get on and Abigail is nearly 4 years old, so she might die soon and then the new one will be left on her own.

I’m worried sick that there is an injured Emily somewhere but being realistic I think, probably not.

This is such a horrible thing to happen.

I was going to share a poem which has particular relevance at this time of year and I think I still will, even though it makes this entry totally depressing.

It’s a poem I copied from a now defunct Black Country Website, called Cradley Links.

It is written as ‘way spake rahnd ere.’ You might wish to amuse yourselves trying to translate it. The dialect where my family come from is very close to Anglo Saxon and has many similarities with German.

If you can manage to get through it, its a very touching poem, which never fails to bring a tear to my eye.

I hope to do a more cheerful weekly entry over the weekend but tonight I think I will drown my sorrows. Why on earth had I chosen chicken for dinner tonight?

I know this picture doesn't go with the poem as that is about Gallipoli and this is a scene from Chateau Wood in Flanders but to me it sums up the horrors of WW1 and it is  near where my Great Uncle Albert Harrold died in 1915, he was aged 32 and his body was never found. His name is on the Menin Gate at Ypres.

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It may help if I explain 'Wor'means wasn't and 'ood means would. Try your best with the rest.

 

      'Let us never forget'

 

IF I KNEW I WOR CUMMIN' BACK

If I knew I wor cummin' back, thairs things I 'ood 'ave sed
I'd 'ave tode 'er mooer times 'ow much I luved 'er
an' tucked the kids up tieter in bed
A good nite inthe boozer with me mates, me last goodbyes ter all
But I thort I woz invincerbul I wor ever gooin' ter fall
I woz gooin'ter do me bit, I woz that sort of mon
I'd jine the Woosters, for I 'new they'd got many a Craidlee son.

If I knew I wor cummin' back, I'd 'ave rote mooer oftun than I did
I'd 'ave tode 'er it 'ood be alrite and sum of the things I'd done an' sid (seen)
Me mates woz all around me, born an' bred in Craidlee town
I thort we woz soopermen and wor ever gooin' down
The Woosters 'ad trained us well, we 'new wot we 'ad ter do
But we wor gooin' ter France, but ter sumw'eer new

If I knew I wor cummin' back, I think I'd still 'ave gon
She 'ood 'ave whanted me ter jine, an' be proud of 'er mon
Ter plairces, sum I'd never 'erd on afower, we went
Befower we got ter Gallipoli, w'eer we 'ad bin sent
We landed at a plairce nairmed Helles, an' it woz truly hell
On the sond we woz 'ommered with bullet, shrapnul an'shell

If I knew I wor cummin' back, I think I'd 'ave tried ter med mooer of me life
But I 'oodn't 'ave changed 'er, she woz the perfect wife
We got used ter life under fire, we knew w'en ter duck and dive
We woz the Woosters from Craidlee and knew 'ow ter stay alive
Ower time 'ood soon be 'ere, we 'ood mek them Turks run
We 'ood soon be up out of ower trenches, chargin' with bayonet and gun

If I knew I wor cummin' back I'd 'ave rote that fineul day
She 'ood 'ave red it ter the kids the last things thair dad 'ad ter say
In swelterin' 'eat we waited for ower time ter charge the foe
Wot'ood it be like? We woz soon gooin' ter know
As we charged the Turkish lines, not a slacker woz there 'ere
We went forward, feelin' a mixture of excitement, pride an' fear

If I knew I wor cummin' back I'd 'ave left 'er picture back atcamp
This lickwidcummin' from me chest ull meck it sticky an' damp
A'ommer like blow 'ad 'nocked me down, an' I lay in the dust
I'd got ter get up an'goo on an' 'elp me mates, I must
Jimmy Clark, Tummy Green and Dave Reynolds were lyin' not far away
It woz if the flower of Craidlee woz dyin' all around me that day

I just lay theer, I felt so tired, I coodn't move, no matter 'ow I tried
Surely this wor the end, this coodn't be 'ow yo felt w'en yo died
Suddenly I saw the missus an' the kids sittin' around me bed
I 'erd 'er say "Yo've dun yower bit, now goo ter sleep, rest yer weary yed"
'er fairce slowly vanished an' everything went black
Then I knew - I wor never cummin' back

Dedicated to all who fought in the Gallipoli
Campaign, especially the men from Cradley with
the 4th and 9th Battalions of the Worcestershire Regiment.

 

 

12 comments:

jeadie05 said...

I am so sorry about poor Emily ,you must feel very sad .well done on your presentation ,I am pleased you decided to post the poem ,wasnt it good ? 'we must never forget '....love Jan xx

princesssaurora said...

Oh, that poem was beautiful, and sad, and so true...those poor men... WWI was such a bloody and terrible war.

Thank you for sharing it!  I didn't think it was that hard to read, I just made the substitution as I went along!

Thank your son for serving...

be well,
Dawn

jckfrstross said...

poor bird:( have a good weekend:) nice poem

Deb

tellsg said...

I am so sorry about Emily, foxes had our chickens and in the end we gave up with keeping them.  We had a couple of rescue hens and it was sad to lose them. You'll have to follow your heart about getting another one.  We always found they adapted quite well.  Heres a hug for you. x  I loved the poem.  Terry x

midwestvintage said...

 I always hated losing one of my chickens, never failed it was one I was especially attached to.  Loved the poem, very sad, thanks for sharing.

               Julie

wobblymoo said...

Aww poor Emily, that's heart breaking

ally123130585918 said...

I am sorry about Emily poor little bird ~  ~ glad you printed the poem it was lovely to read ~ and thanks for sharing it ~ Ally

jeanno43 said...

So sorry about Emily.  I so loved the poem, as you said it is a little different but war poetry always reduces me to tears as I think of all the suffering and all those waiting at home for loved ones who would never return. Thank you.

http://journals.aol.co.uk/jeanno43/JeannettesJottings/

bobandkate said...

Linda,
Poor Emily! It is sad, and horrible for Abigail too. I don't know whether getting another hen will help or not. That poem is sad, isn't it and it does go well with the picture. You are right, we should not forget the horror of the wars and the bravery of the men who fought for us,
Kate.
http://journals.aol.co.uk/bobandkate/AnAnalysisofLife/

susanebunn said...

You know how I love your chickens.  This makes me physically sick!  How dreadful!  They were your babies.  I hope she didn't suffer and went very quickly.  Perhaps you should keep Abigail in her run for a few days.  Whatever got Emily knows there's another chicken about.  You could get several old battery hens.  The only problem there is that they really are not accustomed to being outdoors and may be even more vulnerable than poor Emily and Abigail.  This just upsets me so.  That poor, poor bird.

Love,

Susie
http://journals.aol.co.uk/susanebunn/ItAllStartsAfter50/

demandnlilchit said...

So very sorry about Emily....poor Abigale!

beckiepainton said...

oh dear im sorry about emily the poor thing i suppose the weather is getting worse and the wildlife are getting hungry and she was easy pickings.Maybe you could get a toy chicken for abigail or maybe knit one!Beckie.boo