Made in Sway

Hey, this was not really a Victor moment but I did get quite annoyed at the health and safety implications when I first saw this sign. It is new and stating the bleeding obvious! Yep It's water and the ducks and swans were quite happy with it as their habitat of choice. We are all 90% water, it needs qualifying; -Deep water! Smelly water! Radioactive Water! Salt Water! Water to walk on! Wet Water! Sticky Water! Drinking Water! Bottled Water! Heavy Water! Sparkling Water! What's wrong with our water? I'm going to filter everything from now on!

Check out Lyn here assembling her Ikea shelf.......There is hope for us all...

I recently came across this old New Forest map that includes some of the areas around Sway as they were. It really is quite interesting.

I've received quite a few defamatory comments about the infamous 'Sway Treacle Mines'. As far as I can make out there seems to be some doubt about the existence of the 'mines'. I'm quite concerned that so many people can doubt the truth of such a claim. The seed of doubt has even spread to my local watering hole where I am now met with glib remarks such as "Twaddle....Mines twern't at Setthorns anyhow, they were in the caves behind Sway Docks!" This is usually followed by shrieks of mirth and merriment from the surrounding entourage and further cravings for treacles sandwiches. However, joking aside, it has occurred to me that even these spurious remarks may indeed, have some truth.Many myths and legends are expanded with the 'telling' through many generations Perhaps there were caves? And perhaps they were behind Sway docks?It could be argued that now the location of the caves is known then perhaps the location of the so-called docks is nearby. The shot to the left is coming down to the lake from the northern shores near the treacle mines.
Could it be possible that in the past, Wooton stream was actually a river?Could the original course of this river have run up around Yew Tree bottom and into Longslade bottom? If this was the case then Longslade would have made a magnificent harbour area and would probably had docks at some stage. Admittedly this would have been before the treacle mines, -but you must agree, - it is possible. If this was the case then the course of Avon water would've run right past the sight of the treacle mines. The docks may have been cut out directly behind the caves to make them harder to find.
Even in Elizabethan times it was rumoured that the Queen had ordered certain sites (docks) 'to be made ready' for the building of ships to defend the realm against the forthcoming Armada. The location of these sights was kept secret , nothing was recorded for fear of Spanish spy's. In fact, the threat of espionage was so great that even Elizabeth herself was never told of the locations!
If you take Bucklers Hard and it's shipbuilding as an example, it is easy to see how inland shipbuilding came about. Bucklers Hard was probably a later version of Sway docks. After all the forest's trees were sought after for this purpose. Sway would've been an ideal location.
Another peculiar thing is Sway Tower which is a well known landmark and point of reference but how many people would've ever questioned the wisdom of building a lighthouse inland. I know that it doesn't look like a lighthouse but that was because of the planning delays (yes, even in those days)! It was originally conceived in 1586 but nobody was prepared to allow such a 'Monstrosity' to be built in Sway and the whole project was shelved. Of course, when it was built the waters had receded and Mr Peterson took the credit.
There is is even an obscure reference to the possibility of 'Shipbuilding in Sway' in JAY's nautical almanac. The almanac mentions a warship named 'Hinclelslea' making way down the Avon water in 1588 to defeat the approaching Armada.

Sway Towers over the World

My Victor Meldrew moment today! That annoying advert currently running on UK TV which tag lines the phrase 'Wake up Happy!'( It's an online Hotel booking chain) Please leave him alone, whats he done that the others didn't have a hand in, I refer to Bashful, Doc, Dopey Grumpy, Sleepy & Sneezy...Leave Happy Alone!!
Lets start again... Today I'm still in love with Sway, after yesterday my faith has been renewed in this beautiful forest village. Lyn and I live just a few miles away from it and it has a very famous claim to fame in these modern times. I am referring to Sway Tower, the tallest non re-in forced concrete structure in the world, it is 220ft tall.
Locally it has been claimed as the eighth wonder of the world. It can only be Sway Tower. Rumour has it that the architect of the tower had gained his experience building over 50 churches, and he is certainly responsible for one of the finest Renaissance Cathedrals in Europe, St Paul's in London. Sir Christopher Wren was born in 1632 and was originally an astronomer. Of course many people are aware that Sway Tower was actually built by Mr Peterson between 1879 and 1885. There were actually two towers built, the smallest is here on the right.
There are many legends about the 220ft high tower and the most well known says that Peterson had the tower built as a tomb in which he would be buried, some say at the top and others say at the bottom. Not so well known is the story of Mr Peterson's assistant, a certain Sir Christopher Wren ( mathematicians please note he would have been a sprightly 247 years young at this time!) Legend has it that Peterson consulted Wren on numerous occasions during the tower building using the services of a medium! Without his help Peterson's Tower would probably have fallen years ago because the foundations were amended by Wren when he found them unsuitable for supporting the structure. Who Knows? Perhaps the dome at the top of the tower is a hint from the mysterious architect?
I just think that Peterson's idea for this folly, building it with walls over 2 feet thick out of concrete in the 1880's is the mark of an innovator who deserves recognition for all the tall concrete structures that have followed. He may have been a little eccentric and devout but it's people like Peterson who pushed out human boundaries. When Sway Tower was completed in 1885 it was the tallest concrete structure in the world! It still remains the tallest un re-inforced concrete structure in the world today. Built 126 years ago and it's still standing !

Another Phegnominal Tale

Today I had another weird moment, it was really a League of Gentlemen Royston Vasey Moment when I spotted a sign about gravel, not just any gravel; Local gravel....! It appears that we now have to fear gravel rustling! The sign clearly reads ' Local Gravel for Local People'. I'm really not sure that all my gravel is entirely local, shock horror, I may be harbouring foreign gravel! How about you ? Is this an offense? How can I tell where the Gravel has come from? It's all very worrying.
I haven't posted for a few days now but I think I can be absolved after my shrove Tuesday (Pancake Day) experience. Yep, Lyn cooked Pancakes, take a look at the two vids at the end of this post.
The mysteries of the universe are unfolding before me and questions are being asked.The interesting ones are the more challenging, historical questions. Who were the Treacle thieves of Sway? Who pulled the plug out of Longslade lake? Invariably, whilst struggling to find the answers to these questions I have uncovered more hidden treasures.
On Sunday whilst exploring the inner sanctum of Wilverly Inclosure I happened to come across another 'cave'.My immediate reaction was to check for the Illustrious 'treacldii sugaraldii' (treacle plant), but it soon became evident that this cave had a different occupier.
The cave was neatly hidden beneath a large oak and it's two foot entrance was obscured by brushwood. Unfortunately I was not able to squeeze into this entrance but I could see that there were other entrances within the small cave. The most peculiar thing was the abundance of footprints around the entrance. These were not animal prints as you would expect but small child prints.
This fascinating find could give some credibility to another little known Forest legend. The original Forest dwellers were thought to have been 'little people' , in fact many real Foresters are still convinced of their existence.
Names such as 'Pixie Field' and 'Pixie Mead' were quite common around the area a hundred years ago. Odder than that was the large barrow on Beaulieu Common which was locally known as 'Pixie's Cave' , a place feared by many local inhabitants.
There are many rumours about these' little people', a lot of which are conflicting. I gather that they are shy, timid people. They range in height from 12 - 18 inches but their most phegnomenal attribute is their incredible lifespan which is usually around 400 years!
The 'little people ' are hard working , earthy characters who worship only mother nature herself. Being strict vegetarians , they love and care for all animals.
They are mainly active during the twilight hours and are easily recognised by their bright red caps. These caps form an intricate part of their uniform and require regular grooming. Their physiology is similar to ours but for certain differences, they have greater speed and strength. This is probably why they have always eluded capture by us mere mortals!
The best time to 'capture' one of the 'little people' is after a nights entertaining. This is when they are most vulnerable, if there is one thing that they love, it's a good party. The demon drink plays a large part in their lives, along with their well known love of 'pipe smoking'.
Always remember that our failure to capture these sprites of the earth has caused us to immortalize them in a more concrete fashion. How many people do you know with Gnomes in their gardens? Fishing Gnomes, pipe smoking Gnomes, or even drinking Gnomes?
I believe that the best way to catch one of 'little people' is by gate crashing one of their parties. New Forest Gnomes are reported to be very hospitable. I know where to look and I know when to look. Their impish ways and my curiosity should make an entertaining tale. Oh,to be in England when the sun shines again! Who needs Leprechauns anyway?
I'm off down the road for a Guinness now! Check out these Pics here ......

This is Lyn and Me drinking Guiness.... in the.... Guiness factory at St James's Gate, Dublin......sheer Guiness genius.......I told her it was a new Irish craft shop! And it was, they stamped your hand after every drink! Happy St Patricks day to everyone.

Metal Mickey fights back...

WOW! Who would have thought that anyone would bother to read my inane scribblings...? And I've even got some followers, thank you all very,very much for that, I really do appreciate it. I'll try to keep my rants short and sweet in the future.
Today, my Victor Meldrew moment was in Tesco's car park. Did my shopping, no problem but when I got back to the car... some lovely considerate person had decided to park so close to me that I couldn't get into the drivers seat without going on a very fast diet! I know I need to lose a few pounds but this was ridiculous. I had to climb across the passenger seat in the end. I did check the top of the car to make sure that there wasn't a giant arrow pointing down at it with a big sign above saying 'this one.' There wasn't. I just don't believe it.

Have you ever woken up in the middle of a dream to find that you've not really been dreaming? It seems to give an odd feeling of deja-vu.
I recently had this experience when I was pulled from my slumbers by Lyn. I sub-consciously believed she was talking to a machine called 'Mickey'.
'C'mon Mickey', she shouted: 'Work properly'. In a sleep hazed state I stumbled into the kitchen to find her holding this conversation with the washing machine which had casually been named 'Metal Mickey'.
In our household this is not unusual (those of you who follow her blog will know what I mean! You can check it out here.) !
I suppose I should have realised there was something amiss when we started dating. The streaks of insanity were blossoming even at that early stage.
Lyn quickly named our first car, a Morris (jelly mould) Minor, Alfred. Ever since then our vehicles have received their very own personalised names.
Lyn's motorcycles were called fantastic names such as Benjamin (Benjy for short) - an aging Honda 50 and then Rory - a slightly faster Honda 175.
My bikes always seemed to receive rather more bland names like 'Bill' - not much inspiration there - and of course 'Ben'. An old Austin we once owned was promptly named 'Bertsie', when I asked the reason for this name she simply told me: 'Because it looks like a Bertsie'!
Lyn's particular brand of logic- what logic? - Has eluded me ever since....
From Lyn's point of view and after many years of naming vehicles it was a totally logical step to take - I am referring to her latest craze of naming domestic appliances.
There are probably many other people out there with a similar affliction. Unfortunately there doesn't seem to be any cure so my advice is simple - humour them - if you dare?
'What's the matter with Mickey'? I enquired sleepily.
' The silly old thing won't spin', she replied. 'I think he's been talking to Tommy the tumble dryer'.
It transpired that Lyn believed Mickey was taking industrial action because of fears he may be made redundant. What we have here in laymans terms is a strike!
It was certainly true that we had contemplated putting Mickey 'out to grass' after many years of useful service and rust was starting to slow him down.
My beloved continued her grovelling conversation with Mickey. 'Don't you worry we'll find you a nice new home'.
I had already decided on Mickeys fate. It was the jealous streak in me that decided on a short trip down to the tip! There must be many machines who have found a happy home down there !
I was certainly not going to let this heap of tin and bolts drag my dearest away from me... especially at 2am in the morning!
It was at this point that Mickey attacked me without any provocation. He flung his door wide open which hit me hard in the shin and then spewed his remaining water all over my foot.
I retaliated immediately and kicked the door shut again. At this point Lyn took umbrage, 'If you two are going to fight then I'm going back to bed', and off she went.
As I dried my foot I felt a little peckish, I opened Freddie the fridge and attacked a small piece of cheese, I took a seat in front of Mickey and tried to out stare the one-eyed monster.
It felt like an hour or more before they built up enough courage for the assault. Tommy crept up slowly behind me and Mickey came head on.
Freddie rammed into my side whilst Tommy pushed me into Mickey's doorway..
I panicked and kicked to try and free my head from Mickey's mouth but I was stuck firm....
'Wake up.....John..... wake up'! Screamed Lyn.
'What? What's happening...?' I queried. Lyn just burst into a fit of laughter at my question.
'For goodness sake', I shouted: 'Get this bedside cabinet off my head - will you'?
'Hey, what was that under the bed that I put my foot in......?'

New Forest Grockle Hunting

Sorry I haven't posted for some time but I've been a little busy building Lyn's new craft room, check out her blog for details. That's left her old craft room free so I thought I'd use it as my little den, well somewhere to write really (I've been working off the coffee table). Just writing these blogs has re-ignited my passion, I scribbled many years ago for a local paper and the county mag of the time and I did a few pieces for the classic motorcycles magazine (yes, I was a long hairy biker at one stage!) and I just stopped, don't really know why but I do vividly remember writing about a character that I just couldn't get right and I became really involved with him, I guess I took the easy route and walked away but now with the passing of time I feel more confident about starting again (at the time of course, I also had a couple of lovely children demanding attention and they were always going to win), so I'm going to have another go before I really do turn into my Nemesis, Victor Meldrew....... Have a look at my den building efforts so far, I've made the desk and shelves from an old wardrobe that eldest daughter left behind ( waste not, want not in these hard economic times) and I'm quite happy with the result. The desk top is actually the two doors, shortened. The front is the back of the wardrobe turned round, the end support is one of the sides, the L shelf adjoining the desk top is the floor of the wardrobe and on the left wall (you may not see it all) are two wall shelves, the smaller one is the remains of the doors and the higher one is the whole of one side cut down to shelf size. Enough of my excuses, on with the business of the day.
With the Easter holidays looming on the horizon, it would seem to be an ideal opportunity to educate everyone on the ancient art of 'Grockling'. This ritual certainly dates back to the Victorian times or even earlier. An ancient song titled 'A Grockling we will go...', gives some indication about the duration of the annual migratory habit. Those who are unfamiliar with this ancient practice may need some guidance on 'Grockling'. Well look no further, here it is!
In the west country they are lovingly referred to as 'Emmets', an Emmet being the Cornish word for a large ant. They received this title because of their amazing technique for marching into holiday resorts in armies and completely infesting all of the local shops and streets. Further east, theses same creatures have a different name, here they are called 'Piles'. Why 'Piles'? Good question and from what I have gathered through a local yokel of the vicinity, a rough translation would be; 'because they come out in bunches and they're a pain in the ........nether regions!
Here in the New Forest and surrounding areas we call them 'Grockles', - or 'Grocks' for short. Nobody is quite sure how this term entered our local dialect although I have discovered that it first originated on the Isle of Wight. In recent years the term 'Grockle' has been understood, by a great many people, to refer to particular section or group of people. They are, of course, our much welcomed holiday maker or visitor and as Easter approaches I've already spotted a few (saw a tall lad with tats and no shirt on wandering in our mecca, Lyndhurst, about a week ago).
'Grockle' hunting can be quite a rewarding hobby. Some of their habits can be irritating but easily spotted. When in the Forest they like to drive at 20 - 25 mph (the New Forest pretty much has a max speed of 40mph everywhere these days, except in built up areas where it's usually 30mph) , each of the cars occupants likes to maintain a glassy stare out of the windows and the driver tends to swerve erratically to maintain his illusion of reality. When the first pony is spotted (the ponies wander all over the forest including the roads and always have right of way over vehicles) the driver will automatically hit the brakes, regardless of the traffic backed up behind him/her and all of the occupants will jump out of the car, cameras in hand, to worry the life out of the poor thing (parents seem to like their kids to touch and feed them which is against forest bylaws because it teaches the ponies that unknown people will feed them and when they don't get fed they will kick. Many visitors are injured each season by ponies)
Real 'Grockles', as opposed to weekenders, have many distinctive features which will help the initiate 'Grockler' to identify them. True 'Grocks' have their own uniform; flip-flops or sandals, shorts that they wouldn't dream of wearing if they were at home and a short sleeved shirt with some obnoxious comment emblazoned across it.To complete the uniform they like to wear sunglasses (even when it's raining) and a peculiar naff hat. The finishing touch is done with hands, they are happily occupied carrying either ice cream or fish and chips and frequently both!
The female attire is often more practical, perhaps new high heeled shoes (ideal for forest walks), new striped dress, new white cardigan and, of course, an enormous new handbag. The handbag is essential for carrying the 'Grockling' kit; sun tan lotion, after sun lotion and artificial sun tan lotion (in case the first two don't work)!
The like and dislikes of the 'Grockle' are worth pondering. They do seem to like queueing, it doesn't matter what for? It's the actual queueing that excites them most. As a word of warning, never stop and talk to a friend in the high street because you may find 'Grocks' queueing behind you! They also like to talk aloud, especially about their dislikes. They dislike our 'heavy air' (whatever that is?), they dislike our property prices but worst of all they dislike our ale. This is indeed sacriledge in my view!
On the other hand I have to admit that I do have a small amout of admiration for 'Grockling' . I believe that it is now a traditional British way of life. I, for one, am always pleased to meet 'grockles' because we have so much in common. What do we have in common? Well for two or three weeks of the year, I am also a 'Grockle, Emmet or Pile'! How about you ? Now........where are my Bermuda shorts and loud Hawaiian shirt?