{"id":457,"date":"2016-04-01T17:58:29","date_gmt":"2016-04-01T17:58:29","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.lifestorywriting.co.uk\/?p=457"},"modified":"2016-04-03T20:51:35","modified_gmt":"2016-04-03T20:51:35","slug":"derbyshire-eisteddfod","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/www.lifestorywriting.co.uk\/?p=457","title":{"rendered":"Derbyshire Eisteddfod"},"content":{"rendered":"<p><strong>W.I. Centenary  &#8211; selection of winning entries<\/strong><\/p>\n<p><strong>100 Presidential Perils (or thereabouts)  \u2013 by Adele Abbott, Duffield Cumberhills<\/strong><\/p>\n<ul>\n<li>What if the speaker doesn\u2019t turn up?<\/li>\n<li>Or if he does and no one is interested in  Conservation around the Thames Barrier?<\/li>\n<li>Or, if he turns out to be a carrier<\/li>\n<li>Of some dreadful lurgy, and everyone falls ill?<\/li>\n<li>What if there\u2019s no room to park and people have to walk<\/li>\n<li>And fall, and cut their head? Do we have a first aider? And a kit? Then someone said<\/li>\n<li>\u2018I told you so \u2013 I mentioned it at the last meeting!\u2019<\/li>\n<li>What if someone wants decaffeinated tea?<\/li>\n<li>Or there\u2019s nowhere to do a wee \u2018cos the toilets are flooded?<\/li>\n<li>What if no one wants to help at the Carnival, or bake cakes,<\/li>\n<li>Nor go to the Group Meeting, be a delegate for all our sakes,<\/li>\n<li>At the Albert Hall  &#8211; no help at all!<\/li>\n<li>What if there\u2019s no one for the vote of thanks<\/li>\n<li>Or the money in the bank\u2019s not enough?<\/li>\n<li>What if I lose the agenda? Forget my memoranda?<\/li>\n<li>Or the music doesn\u2019t play \u2013 must check it today<br \/>\nAlong with the microphone.<\/li>\n<li>What if all the committee resigns because they do not like my designs<\/li>\n<li>For the new welcome pack?<\/li>\n<li>What if no one smiles at my jokes whatever I say?<\/li>\n<li>Or, if some of the older folks can\u2019t hear them anyway?<\/li>\n<li>What if the kitchen is locked and we can\u2019t find the caretaker (or site manager as we now call him)?<\/li>\n<li>Or if the sink is blocked and water overflows onto the electrics underneath?<\/li>\n<li>Then there will be a fire \u2013 what if we can\u2019t get everyone out and they can\u2019t breathe<\/li>\n<li>Too late for a first aider then, even if I found one<\/li>\n<li>And someone will say \u2013 again \u2013<br \/>\n\u2018I mentioned that at the last meeting\u2019!<\/li>\n<\/ul>\n<p>&#8212;<\/p>\n<p><strong>A Mother\u2019s Centenary, by Janet Chambers, Cromford WI<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>Tomorrow I\u2019ll be a hundred. I\u2019ll receive a card from the Queen<br \/>\nYou think I\u2019m a sweet old lady but don\u2019t know how bad I have been<br \/>\nYou are my much loved children, life\u2019s been good to me<br \/>\nBut you\u2019ll never know you had a brother, who\u2019d now be eighty-three.<br \/>\nI\u2019ve always loved your father, caring, steadfast and true<br \/>\nOf course I told him the truth of my past, but we felt no need to tell you.<\/p>\n<p>But when you think I\u2019m dreaming, with a faraway look in my eyes<br \/>\nI\u2019m remembering the headlong rush of those days of seemingly cloudless skies;<br \/>\nThat wonderful teenage summer, with my handsome golden boy,.<br \/>\nThe all consuming first love, its delights, its pain, its joy. <\/p>\n<p>I held my child, my firstborn, for just a few precious hours<br \/>\nI remember those dark unfocussed eyes \u2013 which had unexpected powers<br \/>\nTo see into my very soul \u2013 did he know the heartbreak I felt?<br \/>\nI had no choice, they took him away, their hard hearts wouldn\u2019t melt.<br \/>\nSo shocked that I refused to repent<br \/>\nThey wouldn\u2019t tell me where he was sent.<br \/>\nWhen I held him he was my miracle, a person whom I had made<br \/>\nI hadn\u2019t known I\u2019d love him, that memory would never fade.<br \/>\nIt broke my heart to lose him, but he was never out of my mind.<br \/>\nI hope that\u2019s he\u2019s been happy, his new mother loving and kind.<br \/>\nI pray that he\u2019s forgiven me, for I\u2019ve always regretted the day<br \/>\nThey told me I couldn\u2019t keep him, and snatched my love away.<\/p>\n<p>There are four generations in my family now, and I know that I\u2019ve been blessed<br \/>\nWith many years of love for you, your father, the joys that I\u2019ve possessed,<br \/>\nBut there\u2019s a tiny jewel in the heart of me, a secret I take to my grave<br \/>\nMy darling son, my first born, whose love I will always crave.<\/p>\n<p>And so my beloved children, when we open my card from the Queen<br \/>\nYou\u2019ll take my hand and smile kindly, never knowing how bad I have been.<\/p>\n<p>&#8212;<\/p>\n<p><strong>Envelope of Memory<br \/>\n Barbara Daykin MBE \u2013 Smalley W.I.<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>    Jennie was going through old photos and letters, emptying a trunk in the attic of family memories collected over the years. The reason for the \u2018clean up\u2019 was that the W. I. was celebrating its centenary with a competition, \u201c100 years ago\u201d.  Jennie picked up an envelope, stiff brown paper with a forces stamp, addressed to Mrs. Megan Jenkins, 3 The Cottages, Sea Lane, Llanfairpwll, Anglesey. It was a letter to her Great-great Granny from Great-great Granddad. The date on the letter was September 11th 1915. Amazing Jennie thought, our next meeting is this coming Friday, September 11th 2015, exactly 100 years from the date on the letter.  <\/p>\n<p>     \u201cMy Dearest Meg, just a few precious minutes in this filth and bedlam to write and say that I am well. How are you my lovely?  The children, is David keeping the garden good and little Jennie helping you with the work? If she\u2019s anything like her Mum I\u2019ll have some good food to come home to. When that will be I cannot say, this war seems endless, I miss you so much. I miss your warmth and your embraces; it is cold, bloody and noisy here. I yearn for the quiet of the hillsides and the valleys, walking by the sea. Keep the bed warm my lovely; say a prayer when next in Chapel. From Your loving Boy. Tom.\u201d <\/p>\n<p>    Folded in amongst other papers was Meg\u2019s reply.  <\/p>\n<p>    \u201cMy Deerest Boy, I\u2019m not for riting I expec you will lauf at my spelin. We are all well we had mesles on the island, David is beter, but young William Brown\u2019s iyes will never be rite he\u2019s neerly blind. The garden is well and little Jennie is my good girl. We  had some xcytement this week, tonight the ladies is getin together at The Chapel, a  lady frum Canada with ideas that we women should get together to be eddukated on lookin after the \u2018ealth and \u2018appiness of the family, the cheek of it,  but it will be good to get out for a bit. We miss you singin in Chapel; Mrs Jones is xpecting number ate. The bed is cold, miss you, come back safe Tom.<br \/>\n      Your luvin Girl Meg.\u201d  <\/p>\n<p>      Great-granddaughter Jennie wiped the tears away as she read a telegram also in the envelope, \u201cDear Mrs Jenkins find enclosed the effects of Private Thomas Jenkins (R.W.F.196322) it is my painful duty to inform you that your husband was killed in action on September 11th 1915 at Loos France.\u201d<\/p>\n<p>Meg had received the telegram on her return from the new Women\u2019s Institute. A day that was to live with Meg always, she remained a faithful W.I. member of Llanfairpwll. all her life.<\/p>\n<p>     Jennie put the letters and the telegram back in the envelope, definitely not for the W.I. competition, a precious fragment of her family\u2019s life; she would have to look elsewhere to mark the 100 years of the W.I.<\/p>\n<p>&#8212;<\/p>\n<p><strong>One Hundred Heartaches<br \/>\nby Carol Anderson, Morley W.I. <\/strong><\/p>\n<p>June 10th 1915. Ada&#8217;s wedding day. She is marrying Fred; handsome, hardworking, reliable Fred. He had pursued her tenaciously and swept\u00a0her off her feet. Ada knew instinctively that Fred would be a good husband.<\/p>\n<p>As she turned towards her bedroom window, the early morning light came\u00a0trickling in, through the slats of the wooden blinds. She had slept fitfully;\u00a0waking, dozing, tossing and turning. Like the ingredients of a cake mixture her\u00a0emotions were mixed and stirred together.<\/p>\n<p>This should be the happiest day of her life, but the day is tinged with\u00a0sadness. It was not because she did not want to marry Fred. Two days ago he had\u00a0received his call-up papers. In a few days he would be leaving her, and England, for\u00a0how long nobody knew. Would he return? Ada&#8217;s hopes and dreams for the future lay in\u00a0disarray amongst the silken ribbons of her trousseau. Was she strong enough to endure\u00a0the piercing heartache and uncertainty for a second time?<\/p>\n<p>Ada was stirred from her reverie by the sound of her mother&#8217;s voice\u00a0calling from downstairs. Ada quickly pulled on her robe and hurried down to the\u00a0kitchen. The air was filled with the sweet fragrance of orange blossom. Warmth from the\u00a0range had drawn the scent from the blossom filled pots and jugs, which were\u00a0standing on the kitchen table waiting to be taken up to the schoolroom, where the\u00a0wedding breakfast was to be held. Although it was June, the range was lit, the kettle gently boiling so\u00a0that tea could be offered to any well-wishers who might call in to pay their\u00a0respects.<br \/>\nNell stood in the doorway. She was Ada&#8217;s dearest friend and soon to be\u00a0bridesmaid. She had arrived early to help Ada dress. Nell threw her arms around Ada\u00a0and kissed her cheek. Ada had been walking out with Nell&#8217;s brother Harold.\u00a0Tragically he had been killed in action at the outbreak of the war. How different their\u00a0futures might have been. But this was no time to dwell on &#8220;what ifs&#8221;.<\/p>\n<p>Ada stood at the head of the stairs, adorned from head to toe in white\u00a0lace and silk. As she tentatively placed her slippered foot on the first tread, the\u00a0clock on the mantle began to strike the hour; heralding her grand entrance and subsequent\u00a0departure towards her new life.<\/p>\n<p>Her father smiled proudly as she crossed the parlour towards him. He\u00a0squeezed her hand reassuringly as she took his arm. Time to go.<\/p>\n<p>The dappled pony and the trap festooned with silken bows was waiting at\u00a0the gate to take her on the short journey to chapel. Had ever a journey been so\u00a0short yet felt so far? As Ada&#8217;s father closed the garden gate behind them, she glanced\u00a0back towards the family house, her sanctum for the last thirty years.<\/p>\n<p>Life would never be the same again &#8211; for any one of them.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>W.I. Centenary &#8211; selection of winning entries 100 Presidential Perils (or thereabouts) \u2013 by Adele Abbott, Duffield Cumberhills What if the speaker doesn\u2019t turn up? Or if he does and no one is interested in Conservation around the Thames Barrier? Or, if he turns out to be a carrier Of some dreadful lurgy, and everyone &#8230; <a class=\"read-more\" href=\"http:\/\/www.lifestorywriting.co.uk\/?p=457\">Read more <span>&#x25BA;<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[5],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.lifestorywriting.co.uk\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/457"}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.lifestorywriting.co.uk\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.lifestorywriting.co.uk\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.lifestorywriting.co.uk\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.lifestorywriting.co.uk\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=457"}],"version-history":[{"count":7,"href":"http:\/\/www.lifestorywriting.co.uk\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/457\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":473,"href":"http:\/\/www.lifestorywriting.co.uk\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/457\/revisions\/473"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.lifestorywriting.co.uk\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=457"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.lifestorywriting.co.uk\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=457"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.lifestorywriting.co.uk\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=457"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}