On holiday in Northumberland on the English borders to Scotland. My family goes back four generations in this County, but I'd like to share with you a very special place in a village that has played home to our family for some time.
My Great Grandma May (Nanny), used to be Head House Keeper here during the 1920's when my Grandpa Colin was a very little boy. She worked there for most of her life. The servants quarters were in the West Wing (see above) and my mother who lived in the village used to spend much of her time here too. Another generation later, I was born and I discovered the Secret Garden...
The Pet Cemetery
and the Chair Swing - that looks a little worse for wear now.
One more generation and my lovely daughters arrive, their Great Great Grandma May, only present in sepia photographs on the wall and now my Grandpa Colin, an old man, lives in the West Wing, the servants quarters now his beautiful home, however there is still his mothers handwriting on the inside of the giant linen cupboards - her presence always with us.
I know I'm lucky, I love this place, but it makes me so sad to think that one day there won't be anymore of my family here, only those that lie peacefully in the church grounds that saw them Christened and married. My husband proposed to me in that church, afterward I wrote in the Parish visitor's book to record our moment. There is a big oak tree in the nearby woods, it has the carved initials of three generations of our family- our family tree. My Grandparents ran the Post Office, that no longer exists, but I look at the steps that lead up to its front door and wonder if the new owners know why they are so worn? I know where the Magic Fairy ring is and I know about the men behind the names on the WW1 stone Memorial, because my Nanny told me about them.
What will I do, when I have no one to visit here, just a tourist, a visitor, that can only stand outside a cottage, point up to a window and say to my children, that used to be my bedroom?
TTFN xxxx
My Great Grandma May (Nanny), used to be Head House Keeper here during the 1920's when my Grandpa Colin was a very little boy. She worked there for most of her life. The servants quarters were in the West Wing (see above) and my mother who lived in the village used to spend much of her time here too. Another generation later, I was born and I discovered the Secret Garden...
The Pet Cemetery
and the Chair Swing - that looks a little worse for wear now.
One more generation and my lovely daughters arrive, their Great Great Grandma May, only present in sepia photographs on the wall and now my Grandpa Colin, an old man, lives in the West Wing, the servants quarters now his beautiful home, however there is still his mothers handwriting on the inside of the giant linen cupboards - her presence always with us.
I know I'm lucky, I love this place, but it makes me so sad to think that one day there won't be anymore of my family here, only those that lie peacefully in the church grounds that saw them Christened and married. My husband proposed to me in that church, afterward I wrote in the Parish visitor's book to record our moment. There is a big oak tree in the nearby woods, it has the carved initials of three generations of our family- our family tree. My Grandparents ran the Post Office, that no longer exists, but I look at the steps that lead up to its front door and wonder if the new owners know why they are so worn? I know where the Magic Fairy ring is and I know about the men behind the names on the WW1 stone Memorial, because my Nanny told me about them.
What will I do, when I have no one to visit here, just a tourist, a visitor, that can only stand outside a cottage, point up to a window and say to my children, that used to be my bedroom?
TTFN xxxx
