In my pocket

 

 

In my pocket

As I wander round the house, I often find things in odd places. I usually put them in my pocket, thinking I’ll put them away where they belong, wherever that may be. Frequently, things remain in my pocket for quite a while, especially if the garment is not worn for a few days. The next time I wear it I am surprised all over again by the contents.

The finger puppet above is the sole survivor of a set of five. I’ve always liked puppets, although I’m not very adept at manipulating string puppets. Hand and finger puppets are fun for children.

We have many, many steel tape measures. A few years ago, I became so irritated by their propensity for disappearing that I bought half a dozen in bright colours and assorted sizes – 3m, 5m, 8m, 10m – and the problem was alleviated to some extent.

This one normally lives in a small cabinet on a shelf next to my chair in the sitting room, so that when the cry goes up, ‘Have you seen a tape measure anywhere?’ I can lay my hands on one instantly. If it is not returned to my care immediately it may then go walkabout and ultimately find its way to my pocket.

Nail files are another thing that seem to travel.

Replacement brush head for the electric toothbrush. The packaging is difficult to open and takes tamper and theft-proof design to new heights.

A model of an RNLI minibus, evidence that we have had young visitors.

Finally, odd buttons appear from time to time, small ones, from blouses, larger efforts from trousers. Until I am near my button tin, they remain in my pocket.

Button tins have a fond place in my memory. As a small child I played with my mother’s button tin, handling, sorting, grouping. Some of the buttons in my own tin came from my long-ago coats or dresses or from my children’s garments.

The collection varies from week to week. 

 What's in your pocket, if you have one?

Flower Festival

 

Flower Festival

The biennial village carnival was last week. The charity chosen to be supported was the RNLI and the theme was ‘Surfing the Seven Seas.’

The week-long activities began with a procession to the local recreation ground and finished with a flower festival in one of the local churches. Various schools, clubs, societies and organisations found innovative ways of interpreting the theme. We went on Monday afternoon, expecting it to be quiet, but it was surprisingly busy.

I have posted a selection of arrangements. The first one shows a surfboard amid rolling ‘waves’ of flowers, as we are encouraged to see. 

I liked the miniature surfer and the flip-flops but the detail that amused me most was the message in a bottle!

The notes for the displays were informative and in some cases imperative in understanding the interpretation.

Explorers were featured. 

 

There were twenty-six displays in all, and all the pillars and  pew ends had been decorated, too. Such a lot of hard work goes into these arrangements. I hope the RNLI received lots of donations.

The holiday – part three

 

Pumpkin Mice Tales (4)

The holiday – part three

The next morning, the Pumpkin Mice ate their breakfast quickly and set off to the harbour to meet the Fishermice. Although the sun was shining brightly in a clear blue sky, there was a brisk breeze and Big Brown Mouse had told them they must wear warm clothes.

‘It can get very cold on the water,’ he said. ‘The sun might be shining now, but the weather can change very quickly.’ The Mousekins grumbled a little, for they felt silly when they saw all the holidaymakers in their shorts and tee shirts, but they knew better than to argue with Big Brown Mouse. They were delighted when Skipper Fishermouse told them he was pleased they were dressed sensibly, and giggled when Big Brown Mouse winked at them.

Once they were on board, they struggled into oilskins and life jackets and had safety lines attached to them. ‘Can’t be too careful on a boat,’ said Skipper Fishermouse.

First Mate Fishermouse started the engine and the Mousekins squealed at the noise and held their noses at the smell of the diesel, but soon forgot such small annoyances as the boat bucketed across the waves. This was an adventure!

After half an hour, First Mate Fishermouse set the engine to idle as Crew Fishermouse One dropped an anchor. There were two other Crew Fishermice, but they had remained at home, for, after all, it was their rest day. Then the engine stopped and the silence was wonderful.

Skipper Fishermouse gave each of the Pumpkin Mice a fishing rod and they were soon watching the floats to see if any fish had taken their bait. Any disappointment they felt at not hauling in nets of silvery fish quickly disappeared as they watched each other’s lines and hoped to be the first to land a catch.

It was Big Brown Mouse who caught the first fish, a fine, shining silver mackerel with green and black tiger stripes on its back. Soon after, there were cries of delight and pride as more wriggling fish were caught. All the fish were returned to the sea, to live another day, to the joy of Little White and White Mouse with the exceedingly long and beautiful green tail, (startling green and quite the longest tail ever seen in Mousedom) for they did not want to see the pretty fish knocked on the head.

Skipper Fishermouse said, ‘We’d better be heading back. There’s a storm brewing.’

Sure enough, the once blue sky was now a dirty grey, with looming dark clouds. The Pumpkin Mice had been so busy fishing that they had not noticed the change in the weather. They shivered in the strengthening wind and for the first time realised how far they were from land. A sharp flash of lightning lit up the sky and an ominous clap of thunder sounded almost overhead and then the rain started. It fell like a heavy sheet, and the Pumpkin Mice were glad of their sou’westers and oilskins.

As the boat turned for home, it passed the lighthouse, red and white and standing tall like a guardian of the rocks. ‘Why isn’t it standing up straight?’ Tiny Grey asked, and Skipper Fishermouse said, ‘Never you fret, little man. ‘Tis the famous Leaning Lighthouse and has always been thus.’  Then he added, ‘Not as famous as the Puerto Leaning Lighthouse, mind, in Mexico.’

He was about to tell them more when First Mate Fishermouse shouted, ‘Look to port!’ The Mousekins weren’t sure what he meant, but Big Brown understood and pointed. Out on the rolling waves was a little yellow duck-shaped raft and in it was a small mouse with big black eyes and pretty pink ears. She looked terrified as her raft headed for the rocks surrounding the Leaning Lighthouse. Skipper Fishermouse got on his radio and called the RNLI.

‘Can’t we save the little mouse?’ said Little White, almost in tears.

Skipper Fishermouse shook his head. ‘No, my little maid,’ he said, ‘The tide and the wind’s too strong and even if I could get near, those rocks would tear my boat apart. Besides, I’ve got all you littluns to think about,’ he added.

Just at that moment, they saw a bright orange lifeboat racing towards them. In it were the rest of the Mousekins’ Fishermice cousins. Their day off had turned into a day of work, for, of course, they were always on call for the lifeboat.

When they reached the safety of the beach once more, the Fishermice helped the Pumpkin Mice out of the boat and they all went home for fish and chips.

Their Fishermice cousins from the RNLI lifeboat arrived just in time to join them. They told everyone how they had rescued the small mouse and taken her home. She was very frightened and rather wet, but she was safe. Her little yellow duck-shaped raft, however, had foundered on the vicious rocks and then sunk beneath the towering waves.

‘Coo,’ said Small Brown. ‘That really was an adventure.’

RNLI

 

RNLI

Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

2024 marks two hundred years of the RNLI’s existence. It is a charity dedicated to saving lives at sea and has its headquarters in Poole, Dorset, though it was a philanthropist from the Isle of Man who first mooted the idea of a society to rescue sailors. He was distressed by shipwrecks on the IoM in 1822, but it took two further years before the idea was supported by royalty, politicians and merchants.

At first it was known as the National Institution for the Preservation of Life from Shipwreck, which is quite a mouthful and doesn’t lend itself to a neat acronym. Thanks to the patronage of King George IV, ‘Royal’ replaced ‘National’ a little later. In 1854, it changed its name to the Royal National Lifeboat Institution. In 1824, it saved 124 lives. Five years later that number had risen to over 1,000 and by the turn of the 19^th century, 41,820 people had been rescued. In the next century, that number more than doubled.

Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

SS Suevic aground on the Stag Rock of Maenheere Reef. She remained there for three days, her cargo being ferried ashore by small freighters. She was eventually cut in half, the stern section, containing the engines, and passenger accommodation, taken first to Southampton and then to Harland and Wolff in Belfast, where she was originally built, to be fitted with a new bow section.

The biggest single RNLI rescue was conducted in 1907 off Lizard Point in Cornwall. The White Star liner, SS Suevic had sailed from Sydney and was bound for Liverpool. Aboard were more than 400 passengers and crew and 12,000 tons of valuable cargo. Encountering dense fog and battling a strong gale, she struck the rocks of the Maenheere Reef at night. Flares were sent up, though they were difficult to see. Open lifeboats, crewed by six men rowing, from four different stations were launched and conducted the rescue over sixteen hours. All 456 lives were saved, among them 70 babies. The RNLI awarded Silver Medals for Gallantry to six men, including two from SS Suevic. On the same night, another ship, the SS Jebba, also ran aground not far from the Suevic and a second successful rescue was undertaken.

The RNLI is the largest lifeboat service serving the coastal waters of the United Kingdom, the Republic of Ireland, the Channel Islands and the Isle of Man. It also operates on some inland waterways and most of its crews are unpaid volunteers.  The charity is funded by legacies and donations.

The RNLI motto is, ‘with courage, nothing is impossible’ and it goes to the aid of anyone in danger on the sea. During its existence, 600 crew have lost their lives serving the RNLI. Gold, silver and bronze medals are awarded for bravery.

Henry Blogg, coxswain of the Cromer Lifeboat.

Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

The most decorated lifeboatman was Henry Blogg (1876-1954) from Cromer, North Norfolk. During a 53-year career, he received three RNLI gold medals and four silver. He was also awarded the Empire Gallantry Medal, which was later converted to the George Cross, and the British Empire Medal.

Henry Blogg with his dog, Monte

Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

When he was not called out to cox the Cromer lifeboat, Henry Blogg earned his living as a crab fisherman and also ran a business hiring out deckchairs and beach huts. This lifesize model depicts him with his dog, Monte.

There are two major types of lifeboat. All-weather lifeboats (ALBs) are large, self-righting, substantial craft which can be launched in all weather conditions.

Model of a Shannon Class Lifeboat, introduced in 2013. She carries a crew of 6 and has a maximum speed of 25 knots.

Inshore lifeboats (ILBs) are inflatable craft which are used closer inshore and in shallower waters.

Inshore lifeboat, Dartmouth

Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

Other craft include hovercraft and small inflatables.

Postbox topper, May 2024

This postbox topper celebrates 200 years of the existence of the RNLI (Royal National Lifeboat Institution)

Royal National Lifeboat Institution (RNLI)

The RNLI is an entirely voluntary organisation dedicated to rescues at sea. There is an average of 22 call-outs a day.



You can learn more here

Is it Christmas already?

Image courtesy Wikimedia Commons

It’s July 28^th and today my first Christmas catalogue arrived. It’s true that it was disguised as the Autumn RNLI publication but inside are pages of cards and calendars, diaries and festive goodies.

I support the RNLI and recognise its need to raise funds but  . . . but . . . words fail me. I 

expect there will be a bucket-load of Yuletide catalogues arriving in the next few days. 

Maybe it’s just as well that we haven’t put the Christmas decorations away, yetJ (Do we ever? Occasionally!)