[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 21 December 2024].
The past few days have been hectic, so I had to forgo one of my instalments for the series.
But here's the next one.
fifty missed christmases
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 18 December 2024].
I'm a little late for yesterday's offering, but sharing this image of an infant's grave (still?)born 51 years ago today felt timely.
(Fifty missed Christmases as of today's date).
mum at christmas
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 15 December 2024].
DOLLY
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 13 December 2024].
a solitary red bauble
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 11 December 2024].
white apples and berries
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 9 December 2024].
in sure and certain hope
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 1 December 2024].
I'm not seeking a resurrection to eternal life, but I'd appreciate the sure and certain hope of a break from major stresses and upheavals, thankyouverymuch.
I offer my sincerest apologies for my radio silence during November.
Ironically, I foresaw November as a month mostly at home where I could catch up on editing, share more work with you and get ahead of editing for my end-of-year wrap-up blog.
Oh, the naivety!
I did spend most of the month at home. However, I was still seeking a new flatmate, even as late as my last viewing on Saturday, 23 November.
I'm sure you know flatmate-seeking - like house or job-hunting - is a full-time job.
Combined with my full-time day job, part-time pet-sitting (although the overnight stays have a full-time feel), and attempts to keep up with my art, I've essentially been doing four full-time jobs, with my art being the most neglected.
It's not through choice. Believe me.
My art - alongside time spent with my (mostly) four-legged clients - keeps me on an even keel. Mentally, emotionally, and sometimes physically.
As some of you may know through our friendship on Facebook or outside the social spheres, I gave notice on my home of 8.5 years on 27 November.
It was a difficult decision for my heart but a no-brainer for my finances. Once I confirmed a plan B for storing my belongings and temporarily housing my being, accepting the decision was somewhat easier.
It doesn't mean I'm happy about it, or I won't miss the place I've called home for the longest of any homes I've had.
But I'm trying to look at the positives and embrace whatever the future holds for me where 'home' is concerned.
I want to find a new home in the same or a nearby postcode. But from mid-December, I'll be somewhat itinerant. (You know, more so than usual). I'll predominantly be based in south London around my scheduled sittings.
House-hunting, like flatmate-hunting, is a full-time job. I'm hopeful that putting that on hold for a while to get things back on track will free me up to focus again on my art, at least over the festive season and New Year period.
In the meantime, this is a photograph I took in St George's churchyard in September on the Isle of Portland in Dorset.
I have many photographs from that trip to share with you. Hopefully soon.
red bows
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 6 December 2024].
I'm slightly behind schedule but somewhat less stressed.
Only somewhat, but I'm hopeful there will be good news to share more widely in the next few days.
Fingers crossed!
sheltering santa
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 4 December 2024].
the reindeer section
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 4 December 2024].
My life is currently so chaotic, messy and stressful that I almost forgot it's time for season's grievings.
My current mood is something akin to this reindeer Christmas decoration on a child's grave in Pinner New Cemetery that I photographed just under a year ago.
I'm sharing this for patrons only a few hours instead of two days early to allow me to catch up.
I'll post the second image for this year later today, which will be closer to a day early.
The third will be posted tomorrow, two days early, and then I'll be back on schedule.
While I'm here and referencing the Scottish supergroup with my title for today's instalment, I highly recommend giving them a listen (if you haven't previously), specifically their second album, Son of Evil Reindeer.
he died of a broken arm
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 1 October 2024].
While reviewing photos to edit and share with you from my wander through the Bishop's Stortford Old Cemetery while sitting Betsy and Dudley a month ago, a new writing project idea struck.
Inspired by a combination of some of the inscriptions in the cemetery, personal memories and a conversation with a friend this evening about death. Specifically, euthanasia.
The words gently edging towards my fingertips aren't all about death, let alone euthanasia.
The ideas gently swirling aren't perhaps as melancholy as what I've written above may suggest (and how can you write about death without writing about life?)
But I'm probably feeling a bit too raw and tired (emotionally and physically) to pour those thoughts out in the wee hours of this particular morning.
So, instead, here's a photo I took of a grave I found paired with an irreverent title to lighten the mood.
Unrelated (maybe): have you heard the new single from The Cure, Alone?
I've listened to it a lot since it came out, but I only just properly listened while watching the lyric video (as I went to find the link for you) and took in the words and the visuals they've chosen, and I teared up for so many reasons.
And then the comments.
hither green crematorium
mamma
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 1 July 2024].
to a beloved | qui riposa
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 18 June 2024].
angelic youth
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 9 June 2024].
quit you like men | i have fought a good fight
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 21 May 2024].
After digging around on Google, I believe the inscriptions on either side of this grave for (I presume) brothers in Hitchin Cemetery are from Bible verses.
From 1 Corinthians 16:13-14 and 2 Timothy 4:7-8 in the King James version specifically.
A Wesleyan Minister and a World War I soldier buried alongside the wife of the Minister. I didn't check the other side, so there may also have been the wife of the soldier commemorated in this plot.
This inscription style appeared a few times in the cemetery, although sometimes with different fonts.
jesus and jules
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 14 May 2024].
memorial to heroes of the marine engine room
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 5 May 2024].
I let the team down.
This monument and some flowers attached to a railing near the Isle of Man ferry terminal were the closest I came to photographing a grave while visiting Liverpool last week.
Nostalgia was heavily represented: tributes in various forms to The Beatles, Billy Fury and others. And my memories of Pier Head swirling around my head.
But my time in the city was too short to allow time to seek out a cemetery.
There may have been graves in the Our Lady and St Nicholas Church Garden, but I only paused briefly to capture the church before moving on.
And even when I photographed this monument, I had forgotten seeing it on the map.
Google Maps records it as the Titanic Memorial. Wikipedia tells me that was the original intent of the monument. However, it took on a broader recognition of the heroes of the marine engine room after World War I.
From Wikipedia: The memorial was intended originally to commemorate all 32 engineers who died in the sinking of Titanic on 15 April 1912. Liverpool was the Titanic port of registry, as well as the home of the ship's owner, White Star Line. Construction was funded by international public subscription.
Spaces were left on the monument to record the names of other engineers. However, due to the heavy loss of life throughout World War I, its dedication was broadened to include all maritime engine room fatalities incurred during the performance of duty. Shrapnel damage from bombs that fell during the Second World War can be clearly seen on the monument.
The shrapnel damage mentioned is apparent in the photo I took. However, I was so conscious of time (and the weight of my luggage on my shoulders) that I didn't stop to inspect the monument more closely and take more photos. I only looked up this information after editing. I realised I should have spent more time capturing it.
past his bedtime
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 22 April 2024].
One of the first graves I came across in the Glasgow Necropolis was that of poet William Miller, who "appears to have popularised a pre-existing nursery rhyme, [Wee Willie Winkie,] adding additional verses to make up a five stanza poem" and publishing the same in 1841.
I didn't know there was a monument to him there, and to be honest, I couldn't have named him, though I grew up learning at least the poem's first stanza. The monument stood out because of the detailed profile of him.
He died destitute, and his remains are interred in an unmarked grave in Tollcross Cemetery.
Though I've read enough Irvine Welsh novels to understand a reasonable amount, I don't know enough Scots to understand Miller's original without the paraphrased version in English alongside it.
Despite that, I love reading it, and I share the complete poem below, courtesy of Wikipedia:
Wee Willie Winkie rins through the toon,
Up stairs an' doon stairs in his nicht-gown,
Tirlin' at the window, crying at the lock,
"Are the weans in their bed, for it's now ten o'clock?"
"Hey, Willie Winkie, are ye comin' ben?
The cat's singin grey thrums to the sleepin hen,
The dog's speldert on the floor and disna gie a cheep,
But here's a waukrife laddie, that wunna fa' asleep."
Onything but sleep, you rogue, glow'ring like the moon,
Rattlin' in an airn jug wi' an airn spoon,
Rumblin', tumblin' roon about, crawin' like a cock,
Skirlin like a kenna-what, waukenin' sleepin' fock.
"Hey Willie Winkie, the wean's in a creel,
Wamblin' aff a bodie's knee like a verra eel,
Ruggin' at the cat's lug and raveling a' her thrums-
Hey Willie Winkie – see there he comes."
Wearit is the mither that has a stoorie wean,
A wee, stumpie, stousie, that canna rin his lane,
That has a battle aye wi' sleep afore he'll close an e'e-
But a kiss frae aff his rosy lips gies strength anew to me.
great orme cemetery
[I originally posted this entry as early access for my Patreon patrons on 15 April 2024].
With all the to-ing and fro-ing between my trips to Llandudno, Delamere and Glasgow (and pet-sittings in between), I got ahead of myself by posting a photograph of St Peter's Church in Delamere last Sunday when I should have rounded out the week with a #SepulchralSunday entry for Llandudno first.
No harm done, though.
Here's one of my photographs of the Great Orme Cemetery Chapel. The cemetery sits just outside the churchyard walls of St Tudno's Church, down the hill from the summit.