BENDLOWE’S BUGLE

Distribution: 40+ hardcopies and a further 40+ emails

FEBRUARY 2021

The yellow rose is a symbol of friendship joy and caring. It conveys warmth, delight, gladness and affection. It is the rose to give a close friend; to say good luck and welcome back.

IT’S GOOD TO TAKE PART

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FEBRUARY 2021 ISSUE (No 10) IS BROUGHT TO YOU BY:-

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BILL ASKEW Memories of Eva Waring (nee Rust)………………………………. 39 - 40

GILL ASKEW Walking Around Shalford …………………………………………… 40

SIMON BREEZE The Stores, Shalford………………………………………………….. 36 - 38

ROBERT BURROWS Crossword……………………………………………………………… 23

SHEILA BUSH Poem: Looking Back………………………………………………… 22

CHIVONNE CLAYDON Numbers Quiz…………………………………………………………. 12 Numbers Quiz – Answers……………………………………………. 20

ALICE COX Sending Condolences to Don’s Family……………………………. 43

VIC GOODEY Shalford Village Hall Carpet Bowls Club……………………… 4 - 5

ANDREW HULL A Road Less Travelled……………………………………………….. 13 - 16

CAROL HUSSEY Poem: Back Then………………………………………………………. 24 Poem: Reminder A Little……………………………………………… 24 Southlea Operatic & Drama Society………………………………… 25

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FEBRUARY 2021 ISSUE (No 10) IS BROUGHT TO YOU BY:-

PAGE NO

REBECCA JORDAN Great Lodge, Bardfield……………………………………………… 29 - 31

JANET NICHOLLS How I came to be Rural Adviser & Agricultural Chaplain…….. 41 - 43

HILARY PENNEY ….. In Pleasant Places (i)…………………………………………… 26 - 28

ADRIAN QUICK Lasting Powers of Attorney – Ignorance is not bliss…………… 33 - 35

MARGARET SPARKS & ALICE COX That Most Embarrassing Moment………………………………… 21 - 22

EMMA TANNER Love Your Muscles………………………………………………….. 6 - 11

RICHARD WEBB Shalford Organ………………………………………………………. 32

MARYLYN WHAYMAND Who Were the Minoans (Part 3)…………………………………… 17 – 20

Another full and varied Bendlowe’s Bugle. Thank you to every one of the 18 people listed above. Enjoy!

USELESS INFORMATION

Did you know that The King’s School Canterbury is said to be the oldest registered Charity in England and Wales. It was founded 597 and re-founded c.1541.

4 SHALFORD VILLAGE HALL CARPET BOWLS CLUB

BY: VIC GOODEY

Since my last Bowls Club offerings we continue to be frustrated at not playing the game every Tuesday evening because of social restrictions.

Like all games and sports, improvement of skills comes with playing, especially on a regular basis. However, I did some research on how to improve my game whilst away from the mat and discovered there is nothing out there. There are techniques for lawn bowls and some information regarding rules and etiquette but nothing for coaching Carpet Bowls.

I do not consider myself an authority but as no one else is offering training tips I have elevated myself to guru.

So where do we begin?

Clothing, be aware that you need to be comfortable when playing, I opt for lightweight flat shoes a loose fitting polo shirt, lightweight trousers or jeans. Dressed like this I have free range of movement and a can adopt a strong stable delivery stance.

Some players in our club and our opponents feel comfortable in high heel, calf length boots with a full flowing dress topped off with a scarf. Now I would like to point out that we seem to be as good as each other in terms of the game apart from the fact that they look a lot more elegant.

Next the stance, I once trained in Karate and learnt that having a solid base means that accuracy may be developed as everything comes from the same stable position. I personally prefer to stand with feet shoulder width apart, slide my right leg back whilst bending my left knee which lowers my body to the point where I can swing my right arm freely and run the ball smoothly onto the carpet. In my mind this does two things; firstly, I can get the bowl away in the direction I choose with no wobble that would spoil my aim. Secondly, this stance, I think, makes me look cool or at least look like I know what I am doing.

Other players choose different stances. There's the kneeling on both knees; kneeling on one knee; standing with both feet together and bending to bowl from one side;

5 standing with feet apart bending forward at the hip to bowl from between the legs; there is also the not bending at all and letting the bowl go from a height of about three to four feet we call this the bouncing bomb technique. I would like to say that my preferred stance is the one to get results but I have found that in all cases the players can get the desired result.

The delivery As you may already know, the bowl is manufactured with a standard bias and standard weight.

It should be obvious that this will make the bowl curve when rolling along; the trick is to get the bowl to turn at the right time, continue along an arc and to stop in the right place. Now, the harder you bowl the ball, the further it will travel and the later it starts to turn.

Some players make the mistake of always bowling from the centre of the base of the carpet. This is fine for lead players when the Jack is in the centre of the carpet with no or few other bowls to block the wood in play. However, if the Jack is moved or the natural line is blocked, then the player has to get creative.

As the game progresses, players start to get a "feel” for the carpet and will work out where and when the rolling ball begins to curve.

All carpets are different, some are rated as fast and need a light touch, some are considered slow which requires the bowl to be given some "weight" and, of course, some are medium pace. By moving across but staying between the blocks as required by the rules, a player can choose from a variety of shots to send the ball on a wider and longer arc, with the right amount of weight to get to the target.

All these skills come with practice and as with any good game the variation of circumstances as each bowl is delivered causes each player to re-evaluate the conditions required for their next shot.

When we return to the Village Hall, we would welcome new members and if you're intrigued by my description of just some of the knowledge and skill you could learn, why not join us on a Tuesday evening? The first two sessions are free. 6 LOVE YOUR MUSCLES

BY: EMMA TANNER

MUSCLES AND THE AGING PROCESS SARCOPENIA( Flesh-Sarcos) (Penia-loss)

ABOUT MUSCLES There are more than 600 muscles in your body, which is 40% of your body weight, that’s almost ½ of you. Because muscles are fundamentally linked to so many systems a person’s muscle mass is a far better predictor of health than body mass index (BMI)

3 types of muscle:- Cardiac: Found only in the heart Smooth (involuntary): These muscles carry out automatic contractions (you do not think about them under conscious control) Striped (voluntary): Contraction caused by conscious decision

At least 2 types of voluntary muscle fibres Slow twitch – mainly use fatty acids as their source of energy and, since they have a store of lipid, fatigue slowly Fast twitch – mainly use glucose as their source of energy and, because they lack an energy store, fatigue quickly

It has been found that slow twitch muscle fibres develop more extensively in athletes who do distance running, whilst fast twitch type develop more in sprint training.

MUSCLE LOSS (Sarcopenia)& AGING

LOSING MUSCLE?

From movement to metabolism, and more, muscles are the ultimate multi-taskers. but what happens if you lose too much muscle?

Are you tired by the time you reach the top of the stairs? Have you been ill or hospitalised and lost weight recently? Are you walking slower than normal?

These can all be signs of muscle loss, and it's more common than you might think.

7 Advanced muscle loss, is evident in 1/3 of adults aged 50 and over, whilst aging is a natural process, losing too much muscle is not and can directly impact your mobility, strength and energy levels, immune system and even organ function.

By the age of 30, chances are good that you’ve already started losing muscle. Loss of muscle is associated with – and possibly preceded by – muscle weakness, making carrying out activities of daily living, such as climbing stairs or getting up from a chair, difficult for seniors. This can lead to inactivity, which leads to muscle loss at any age. Therefore, in older people this can become a vicious cycle that will eventually lead to an increased risk of falls, a loss of independence, and even premature death.

The good news is that exercise can hold off and even reverse muscle loss and weakness. The levels of circulating hormones and growth factors drastically decrease with age and this has an effect on muscle aging.

Although the causes of muscle loss are numerous and complex, there is now lots of evidence to prove that exercise may prevent or reverse many of these age related changes, whereas inactivity will speed up muscle aging.

The effect of inactivity, pathology and aging on functional ability

Inactivity, pathology, aging .

Functional Limitations

urther inactivity

Physical and Social impairment F

Disuse atrophy = physical deterioration & adverse effect on psychological function

A sedentary lifestyle and physical changes due to aging leads to a decreased ability to do even basic physical and cognitive tasks associated with activities of daily living, which in turn leads to a decreased quality of life and dependence on carers.

Being older in age is different to being older physically.

A 75 year old with good health, the right temperament and social opportunities can demonstrate better motor skills and abilities than a sedentary 30 year old.

8 A 75 year old with good health, the right temperament and social opportunities can demonstrate better motor skills and abilities than a sedentary 30 year old.

It is essential to realize that physical changes associated with growing old can be prevented, slowed down or even reversed.

Physical activity benefits all body organs as well as the psyche.

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Different types of exercise can trigger variable but specific responses in the muscle. Strength training is efficient at making muscle, high intensity interval training in aerobic exercises such as biking and walking had the greatest effect at the cellular level in combating age-related loss and weakness.

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Exercise can improve overall strength in the elderly, and specifically, the metabolic strength of skeletal muscle. The age-associated loss of muscle mass and quality contributes to general metabolic dysfunction commonly seen in elderly people. In older women, 1 hour of brisk walking produced elevated insulin sensitivity on the following day. It is never too late to exercise to try to combat the consequences of muscle aging.

Regular exercise combined with good nutrition is the most effective way to fight Sarcopenia (muscle loss) and possibly overall aging. It may not increase human lifespan but it will certainly help people to reach the end of their lifespan in a healthier condition.

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Sarcopenia, is a common problem and can be a major cause of pain and discomfort when not managed. Losing muscle mass as we age might seem inevitable, but the truth is, there’s a lot that you can do to combat the frustrating condition — and even the smallest bit of effort can make a world of difference.

1. Walking

You may think that you’re not getting a good workout just by walking because you’re not breaking a sweat, but actually, regular walking is really good for your muscles and bones over time. In fact, one study of 227 elderly adults found that increasing their walking just 10 percent helped to increase muscle mass, specifically in those who previously suffered from low muscle mass.

And don’t be afraid to pick up the pace! Another study of adults over 60 found that those who walked faster were less likely to suffer from Sarcopenia.

2. Resistance Exercises

It sounds fancy, but resistance training doesn’t require more than your own body weight. Using resistance to engage the muscles causes a surge in growth-promoting hormones that signal the body to produce more muscle tissue. Not only do these signals encourage the growth of new muscle tissue, but they also help to reinforce existing muscle tissue by making it stronger.

3. Endurance Exercises

Endurance training refers to aerobic exercise and other sustained movements that raise the heart rate, like biking or swimming, for example. Endurance training is well known for being beneficial to heart health, so it’s definitely important to do as you get older.

In as little as an extra 15 minutes a day, you can prevent and even reverse the signs of age-related muscle loss at no extra cost to you. All of these exercises can be done for free, so why not start now?

SO………

Sarcopenia, the loss of muscle mass and strength, becomes more common with age and can decrease lifespan and quality of life.

Exercising is the most effective way to prevent and reverse Sarcopenia.

Resistance exercises appear to be particularly effective, including using resistance bands, lifting weights or doing squats, push-ups and sit-ups.

At the end of the day the most important thing is to get active.

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NUMBERS QUIZ

BY: CHIVONNE CLAYDON

Examples: Answer

11 = P in a F T Players in a football team 120 = M in a D Months in a Decade

22 = T L D (QQ) 21 = S on a D 54 = P C in a D (IJ) FOR 7 = C of the R 25 = Y M for a S W A 14 = P in a S 366 = D in a L Y ANSWERS 64 = S on a C B 12 = S of the Z 2 = P in a P 26 = M for a M SEE 9 = P in the S S 8 = L on a S 2468 = W D W A 8 = P in a G PAGE 20 66 = B of the B 4 = S to a S 147 = M B at S

10 = M in a C 200 = P for P G in M

23 = P of C in the H B 2 = H are B T O th 6 = W of H (8 ) 1 = M and H D

FRIENDLY FACES – YOU HAVE NO CHOICE BUT TO SMILE!

Hi Sheila, Smudger, Carol and Eric – Stay Safe – Can’t wait to welcome you back to Meet & Greet

13 A ROAD LESS TRAVELLED

BY: ANDREW HULL

I am very lucky to have been able to travel many overland miles of this planet of ours. However, unlike many people, my preferred mode of transport for covering these miles is usually something wholly unsuitable for the job; a vehicle so rubbish that you can't predict where your travels may take you, or even if the vehicle is capable of getting you there in the first place.

So it is with this in mind that one of the motorised travels I went on involved trying to cross Morocco on a miniature motorbike or monkey bike as it is also known. The starting point was the depths of the Sahara, at an old Kasbah on the Algerian border, the finish point some 1000 miles away, Agadir, on the Atlantic coast, with only a desert or mountain range in the way. Now the prospect of such a trip, which has no back up, no set route and zero help may not be everyone's cup of tea but for some people it is. So it is that I find myself on New Year’s Eve celebrating with about 30 other people from all over the world who had signed up to leave the next day on their trusty motorised steeds, out into the unknown.

So after drinking, possibly, too much punch and enduring probably the coldest 2 hours sleep I've ever had, myself and my team mate, a farmer friend from Great Easton, who supplied John Deere boiler suits, were at the start line. Our little bikes waited at the gates of the Kasbah pointing out into the vast expanse of desert. We knew we had to travel light, the motorbikes stood about as high as my knee and when I sat on the seat my knees touched the handlebars, so space was at a premium! Judging by our fleeting look at a map there were two viable ways to get to Agadir, due West across the Sahara or slightly North East and then West across the Atlas Mountains. After a drunken bet the night before with some fellow Englishman, that we would get our bikes higher than anyone else, our route was set, we would take the high road

We had seven days to get to Agadir and the problem we had when setting off was having no idea how capable a 50 cc children’s motorbike would be at propelling a grown man, so we had no idea where we would end up the first night. We soon learnt that the desert wasn't the monkey bike's natural habitat but that the mountains were! .

14 It soon became apparent these little bikes were very capable and able to go where almost any motorised vehicle couldn't, they have a low centre of gravity and are light enough to carry if you really must, the complete opposite of the big touring bikes the likes of Ewan McGregor go for. Due to these bikes’ unique capabilities we were able to pretty much break every rule in the adventure travel guidebook i.e. ignores local advice! On a few occasions we ignored advice that a mountain pass was actually impassable and in search of glory we would try it anyway only to be proved that nothing stops a monkey bike!

In the first few days, we had ticked off ‘bucket list’ journeys through the stunning scenery and sheer rock faces of the Tundra and Dades Gorges and each night arriving by chance at a nice guest house where the local food just seemed to get better and better.

With this increased confidence, we started to push our luck, and on the 4th night we had the choice of either trying to find a place to stay in a tiny village we had arrived at late that afternoon or take a mountain pass a further 80 miles to what looked like a larger village. As it was dusk, we hadn't eaten and we didn't have full petrol tanks, the sensible option would be to stay put as a mountain pass could take well over 5 hours. My team mate pointed out that he had a bottle of vodka and a packet of chocolate covered peanuts, so believing we had enough emergency supplies, we set off. As soon as the sun dropped half an hour later I could no longer feel my toes or fingers through my thermal gloves and thick socks and boots, it was becoming pretty evident this was a silly thing to do and another 70 miles would be impossible! To our relief, an hour or so later, we could see a single light across the valley, we decided to aim for the light and after navigating a footpath cut into the side of the mountain and crossing a river we gained ever closer to the light. We arrived in a small village, not even on the map and under the single light were a group of men, all in traditional dress, which are very similar to Jedi outfits, long robes with big hoods pulled over their heads, quite intimidating a scene late at night. There was no turning back, and all ten men stopped and turned to look at us, two grown men on children’s motorbikes wearing John Deere boiler suits trundling up the dirt track towards them! After some rather bad ‘Allo Allo’ French by ourselves we were being escorted off through a maze of alleyways, to a stable, with stairs leading above, we followed our guide up the steps to be welcomed by what must have been the village elder, or I could say Parish Council Chairman equivalent! Fifteen minutes later we were presented with a very tasty chicken tagine

15 and flatbread, always follow the light! However, after our meal we were escorted to what looked like an abandoned building on the outskirts of the village, a brick built building. On entering the building, it did look like a crime scene with everything wrapped in plastic, building materials and rubbish around the place, but in one of the rooms were two beds (wrapped in plastic) an unsettling but also welcoming scene when considering the alternatives!

Next morning, we were off before sunrise and as the sun rose we had the joy of riding across some of the most beautiful scenery, Mountainscapes that stretched across the horizon and one of the most magical stretches of monkey biking you could wish for.

We now had a target destination in mind, not one to lose a bet; we had fixed our sights on the ski fields of Morocco, and the highest chairlift in Africa. I had read in a magazine a few months earlier that Richard Branson owned a Kasbah near the ski fields, which was a 5 star boutique hotel. We thought Branson likes a motorised challenge; if he was in at his Kasbah maybe he would drop us off at the top of a mountain in his helicopter? We had nothing to lose, so set our sights on his Kasbah. We arrived at the discreet gates of Kasbah Tamadot, two unwashed Englishmen on tiny motorbikes, no obvious luggage, wearing what were by now filthy boiler suits. I asked the two rather large Moroccans in uniform at the gates if there was any room. Unsurprisingly they said no, I guess we didn't look like the regular clientele! Normally both of us would be typically English at this point and just accept this refusal and drive off but we were now possessed by the power of the monkey bike and weren't going to take no for an answer, I suggested to the guys they go inside and ask properly! One grudgingly went inside and a few minutes later one of the large, ornate steel gates rolled back and we were waved in, there was room after all! (Although at a price and Branson and his helicopter were not available!). However, we did learn that the ski fields were not just down the road but 3 hours away, more misinformation from a guidebook! We decided to drop our luggage in our room at our new fancy hotel and make the determined drive and aim for the highest chairlift in Africa, with one objective, getting the monkey bikes to the top of the mountain and winning the bet! We were wise to drop the minimal luggage we had, the roads got steeper and steeper, the little bikes started to struggle with the altitude as we soon became engulfed either side of us by snow peaked mountains. After 3 hours of flat out revving, we arrived at the ski fields, frequented by the Marrakesh elite at the weekends. Now this place seemed to like parking attendants, there seemed to be one for every 50 spaces available, all trying to get us to park in a certain space. We decided to go for the ‘play it dumb and smile technique’ and drive slowly through them. We were heading for the lifts, no need to park up. Queuing for a ski lift with a miniature bike, rather than skis, was a first for me, it was also a first for the guy running the lift and we were greeted with a shake of the head and a ‘not possible.’ However it's amazing what 20 Euros and a rather laissez-faire attitude to health and safety can do. I was soon perched on the

16 chairlift and the motorbike dumped on my lap and before I could say ‘stop I'm not ready’ I was swinging my way up to one of the highest points in North Africa, without a safety barrier (monkey bike in the way). I could hear my teammate Joe giggling on the chairlift behind me as he was given the same treatment. Anyway we arrived at the top of the mountain to what looked like a black run, both of us intact! To this day I'm sure that may be a Guinness world record for highest monkey bike in Africa ever! Sadly the Guinness adjudicator wasn't there to verify so we had to settle for a photo. All we had to do now was get down! We certainly earned our stay at Branson's Kasbah!

The last few days were spent heading for the coast, again ticking off such bucket list routes as the Tizi-n-Test, regarded as one of the greatest motorbike roads in the world; a winding pass over yet another mountain range, more stunning scenery, mountains, dotted with green oasis. Soon enough we hit the Atlantic coast, 100 miles north of our final destination of Agadir. The roads we followed hugged the dramatic coastline and when the road moved inland we would take the tracks along the coast to stay by the sea. Although we did follow one track too far and ended up on an isolated beach with no route or track further ahead. I came up with the genius idea of doing the last leg by sea and started negotiating with local fishermen if they could take us by sea to the finish line. Unsurprisingly they all said no but we had to try!

After a bit of backtracking we were on the final push to Agadir, a large town with a strange collection of mega-hotels on the Atlantic, the opposite of the Morocco we had seen on our travels. We had finished, two soon to be middle-aged men, sad to say goodbye to our trusty motorbikes but happy in the knowledge we gave it our best shot!

Soon enough I was back in Shalford, and already googling the next adventure!

17 WHO WERE THE MINOANS? (part 3)

BY: MARYLYN WHAYMAND

Here is the final part of Who Were the Minoans? This part of the story takes us from the end of the Early Bronze Age to the Middle Bronze Age and discusses the collapse of the Old World kingdoms while tracing the development of the major site of Knossos. Happy reading!

End of the Early Bronze Age – Beginning of the Middle Bronze Age – Circa 2200 BCE

The end of the EBA appears to be marked by a widespread horizon of collapse of Old World urban centres.... Old Kingdom Egypt collapsed, as did the Akkadian Empire in Mesopotamia. Troy II collapsed, as well as other sites in Anatolia, Mohenjodaro, other major centres of northwestern India and sites on the Greek mainland. There is evidence of temperature changes and an increase in drought conditions which persisted in these regions starting from c 2200BCE30. Destruction and settlement abandonment marked the end of EBA II throughout the southern Aegean, and the period that followed in both the Cyclades and the Greek mainland is viewed as a cultural setback for those areas. This marked level of destruction and abandonment, however, does not appear to have occurred so drastically on Crete.....

On present evidence, it seems that destruction levels during this period are concentrated mostly at sites to the east of the island. Not only is there little evidence of site abandonment or collapse but also, at the beginning of the MBA, Crete uniquely in the Aegean witnessed the emergence of the so-called Minoan ‘palaces’. Monumentalised centres appear at Knossos, Phaistos and Mallia with ports and peak sanctuaries between 1950 and 1800 BCE. Large urban centres surround the main buildings and some elite individuals receive monumental burials. So why did this happen at that particular period in Cretan prehistory?

One explanation might be that the demise of the Old World centres that some believe is likely linked to Rapid Climate Change (resulting in less rainfall, changes in sea levels, catastrophic floods, changes in the course of rivers, and widespread volcanic and earthquake activity in many areas of the world) occurring at c2200 BCE31 was serious enough that it created a vacuum which the emerging Minoans filled. 18

But was the collapse of these major civilisations enough to push Crete to the fore? By itself..... probably not. It might be a necessary condition but, by itself, collapse elsewhere does not explain why the ‘palaces’ emerge singularly on Crete. Another explanation might be that during the period immediately preceding the widespread demise of civilisations, Cretan society had gradually reached a point where it could emerge as a state. Evidence for growing social complexity, and some would argue, social hierarchy, is shown by the appearance of some larger or more complex buildings at several of the more prominent sites on the island. David Wilson32, for example, tells us that in eastern Crete, in contrast to other regions, the period immediately before 2200 BCE was a period of expansion at a number of key settlement sites such as Mochlos and Vasilike in the Mirabello area. Sturt Manning discusses new courtyard compounds appearing at about 2300 BCE33 and cites the central courts at both Knossos and Malia as evidence of certain social groups starting to assert control over pre-existing, communal meeting spaces.

Court at the ‘Palace’ of Phaistos (c) Marylyn Whaymand April 2011

Knossos had been a focal point for feasting ceremonies since c2600 BCE as evidenced by the large number of pouring and individual drinking vessels found at the site. But Manning also makes the point that we should not get carried away here as most of the evidence still points to a ‘relatively low-level, village-scale society at this point in time’... and not a society with a centralised authority. Thus, at the point of widespread destruction at the end of the Early Bronze Age, Crete had become emergent, ‘but no more.’34

So, if neither of the two explanations suggested above give a satisfactory account of the main reason for the rapid rise of the Minoan ‘Palace’ Culture on Crete..... what does? A third and more plausible explanation is that it was a combination of both the collapse of old world civilisations and Crete’s stage of development at the time of that collapse, coming together at the right time in prehistory, combining to provide the impetus for Cretan culture to come to the fore. But were both collapse of the Old 19 World civilisations and the emergence of the ‘palaces’ happening at roughly the same time; i.e. at about the end of the EBA between 2200 and 1950 BCE?

Current evidence suggests that they were. At precisely the time that collapse is occurring in the Aegean, the Near East and in Egypt, a dramatic transformation appears to take place in late pre-palatial Crete, which was sustained at the three major sites of Knossos, Phaistos and Malia, well into the First ‘Palace’ period. Archaeologist Todd Whitelaw tells us that this is most clear in the massive settlement expansion, which can be documented at all three emerging palatial centres. Recent evidence suggests that the size of Knossos at about 2200 BCE is 6.5 hectares or just over 16 acres. By 1800 BCE this had grown to 57 hectares or 141 acres. Population size for the same periods had grown massively from 2,600 to between 16 and 25,000.

Figure 4: Bar Chart Showing Growth of Knossos from 2200 – 1800 BCE (c) Marylyn Whaymand April 2011

When contact resumed after the disruptions, emergent Cretan elites were well placed to step in and take control of access to raw materials for the production of high value/high status goods35. A fundamental reason for the opening up of trade at this time is discussed by John Cherry: “a key factor in this regard is the introduction of masted, plank-built sailing ships into the Aegean at just this time, to judge from the first depictions of them on Minoan seals of EMIII/MMIA and MMIB dates. Although still relatively small and more suited for low-bulk, high impact cargoes, these vessels would have had the effect of opening up the Eastern Mediterranean to trade, well beyond the short hops that had characterised canoe-based travel within the Aegean before this time”36.

From the Early Neolithic, therefore, there is evidence from DNA analysis, as well as floral and faunal remains, to suggest that migrants came to Crete from Anatolia with DNA data specifically indicating the regions of Catal Hoyuk, Hacilar, Asikli Hoyuk and Yumuktepe. From the transition period of the Final Neolithic with the Early Bronze Age, there is DNA analysis that supports: population movements from northwest and western Anatolia; settlement evidence suggesting migration from Anatolia as well as the Cycladic islands, and evidence from Knossos suggesting a flourishing indigenous Cretan population. And from the transition of pre-palatial and first palace periods, there is evidence to show that the emergent Minoans, a ‘melting 20 pot’ of diverse peoples, came to the fore when contact with other regions began to increase after the catastrophic disruptions at the end of the EBA.

Although foreign settlement and contact played a major role from the earliest periods of prehistory of Minoan Crete, the island and its inhabitants would take the initiative at the start of the MBA in reaching out to the wider Aegean world. This contact would have a significant bearing on cultural developments in the Aegean over the next half a millennium. This ‘new child’ is the offspring of the old world.... Anatolia and the Near East... combined with the newly emergent Minoans. And ancient skills and knowledge are preserved and passed on, no longer by migrating farmers from the eastern Mediterranean but by traders and colonisers from Minoan Crete.

References 30. Chew 2007 p58 31. Ibid: Ch 3. 32. Wilson, D. 2008:96. 33. Manning, S. 2008:133. 34. Ibid: 108. 35. Whitelaw T. 2012:151. 36. Yule, P.1987:165 -166; Cherry J. 2009:133. 37. Broodbank, C. 2000:341-349; Cherry, J. 2009:133.

ANSWERS TO THE NUMBER QUIZ PAGE 11

BY: CHIVONNE CLAYDON

1 Two Little Ducks Quack Quack 2 Playing Cards in a Deck (including Jokers) 3 Years Married For a Silver Wedding Anniversary 4 Days in a Leap Year 5 Signs of the Zodiac 6 Miles for a Marathon 7 Legs on a Spider 8 Pints in a Gallon 9 Sides to a Square 10 Millimetres in a Centimetre 11 Pairs of Chromosomes in the human body 12 Wives of Henry VIII 13 Spots on a Dice 14 Colours of the Rainbow 15 Pounds in a Stone 16 Squares on a Chess Board 17 Peas in a Pod 18 Planets in the Solar System 19 Who do We Appreciate 20 Books of the Bible 21 Maximum Break in Snooker 22 Pounds for Passing Go In Monopoly 23 Hands are better than one 24 Man and his dog

21 THAT MOST EMBARRASSING MOMENT

BY: MARGARET SPARKS & ALICE COX

Miss A Nonnymuss

Come on everyone - admit it. There are few of us who can honestly say that there was never such a moment in their lives. To share a giggle I give you some examples. Imagine, if you will, a sweet young thing (all of 17 years) striding down Coggeshall Road, Braintree, where the Crittall factory used to be. She is heading for Railway Street to catch a bus to Panfield having just left the modest East Street premises of what will later become Braintree College in another location. She is taking a commercial course.

Fate has a wicked sense of humour; for what happened next was humiliating enough but worsened by its timing! Just as this young lady felt a breeze in her nether regions a whistle blew to end a shift at Crittall’s. Gates opened, and a throng of men and women on bicycles emerged. At the same time our girl felt a strange sensation of something giving way. Could it be?...... Yes, it was…… Elastic. Her knickers were snuggling nicely around her ankles to jeers and whistles from the cyclists. What else could she do but stoop down, remove and pocket them? It takes a certain aplomb to stay calm in such situations. She remained close lipped.

A little later, still shaken the young lady re-lived her experience by telling a friend – you know the type! A friend who always has to do something bigger and better! So anyway her friend started to jabber on “That’s nothing. When I left work one day and started to walk to the car park. As I crossed the A414 at Eves Corner, Danbury, something was amiss and as I reached the middle of the road, with cars, coming to me both ways” she exclaimed: “suddenly my stocking was wrapped around my right ankle tripping me up. What could I do? Stop in the middle of the road and take my shoes and stocking off? As the bibbing started, I held my head high and walked like a model to the pavement. Now the dilemma; with everybody watching, do I walk with stocking flowing to the car park or undress here?” Boy! You just have to exaggerate; the young lady thought.

Baby Shower Not quite so dramatic but still lingering in the memory was the occasion of a baby shower. An expectant mother newly arrived in America was led into a room where sat about 20 ladies and a table bearing a mound of boxes.

Introductions were made, the young lady arousing much interest. A poor little refugee, they thought, questioning whether England had cows, or electricity among other things. The girl was introduced to all these dear ladies but when the time came to open each gift and to thank each individual; to remember all their names which went with each gift filled her with dread! So she mumbled her thanks looking down at the table instead of the donor for fear she thanked the wrong lady. Embarrassment indeed. I fear there were some hurt feelings that day!

22 “Poopoo” Finally we turn to another scene. It is the dining room of a transatlantic liner at lunchtime. Mother and daughter are seated at a central table waiting for father and son to join them. Son, age three, was known for his enthusiasm and unselfishness. He loved to share. Advancing upon his mother with glee he told her and the dining room in his loudest voice that he had done a poopoo and (he couldn’t keep the amazement from his voice) “it went right down into the (huge breath) OOOshun!”

People at nearby tables were gracious enough to smile, though a few put down their forks and took a sip of water. The voyage proceeded!

LOOKING BACK

BY: SHEILA BUSH

Looking back way back when I love to recall the years back then, Some were happy, some were sad But to be in those times I was very glad.

World War 2 for six long years We had our worries and had our fears. Ration books - air raid warnings, In the shelter until morning.

Powdered egg, evacuation, Children crying at the station. Gas masks, doodle bugs, blackout curtains, Everyone’s future so uncertain.

Beetles in the sixties and man sent to the moon, Bill Hayley & the Comets, Frank Sinatra made us swoon. Rock & Roll & Can Can slips, we rocked until we dropped, No alcohol or drugs, just orange squash and pop.

No PC’s or computers they came along much later, We bashed away on typewriters with all the relevant data. Hair in sweeps and page boy tucked neatly in a snood, With sweet refrains of Glen Miller playing “In the mood”.

We don’t live in a perfect world, that could never be, But in the year 2021 hope better for you and me. Let’s celebrate the New Year, the clock is ticking away, With hopes for a brighter future, for us and our children we pray.

23 CROSSWORD

BY: ROBERT BURROWS

24

POEMS BY: CAROL HUSSEY

BACK THEN……….

We’d never heard of home computers, tablets, laptops, dongles or routers, not for us smart phones or Kindles Twitter, Facebook, Zoom or Tindal. We kept in touch with friends so fond, with fountain pen and Basildon Bond. No flat-screen T.V adorned the wall, until The Fifties…no tele at all! Just a comforting wireless with knobs to twiddle, All crackles and whistles whilst you bent to fiddle. Saturday morning pictures… queue for the `Tuppenny Rush’, scramble for a front row seat, lights down – let’s have some hush. Spellbound by the images upon that silver screen, Cartoons, Westerns, serials, the like we’d never seen. Those simple childhood pleasures, that seem so far away, such memories that we treasure are only yesterday.

Reminder A Little … As a species – see how far we’ve come, evolved to be at number one, here we sit on top of the tree superior for all to see. But chop away the branches below Here on the summit - only one way to go. We really need to assess our worth and protect our wonderful Mother Earth. If we destroy our beautiful tree, There really is no Planet B !

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BY: CAROL HUSSEY

SOUTHLEA OPERATIC AND DRAMATIC SOCIETY (SODS) POST PERFORMANCE REVIEW. Whilst the Society’s choice of this winter’s production was to be admired, i.e. ‘Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves’ It was, on reflection a little ambitious given the size of the stage in the Scout hall and the current size of our company – 11 members. However, undaunted our two volunteer scenery painters (kindly on loan from the local builders Bodgitt & Scarper) came up with a brilliant idea. They provided a life size, blown up black and white photo of a crowd which was then to be overpainted to add authentic costumes…such a pity that the costume painting took longer than expected so the end result amounted to about thirty of Ali Baba’s band (looking splendid) whilst the remainder of the crowd appeared to be West Ham supporters! Tarquin attempted a rather Avant Garde approach to the lighting, but unfortunately when the outside junction box exploded it plunged the hall and several surrounding streets into darkness! Undaunted, a handful of candles and a couple of dim torches were produced and the second half continued, up until, Binkie Braithwaite aka ‘Ali Baba ‘tripped over the treasure chest centre stage in the gloom and tumbled onto the front row of the audience. That sadly signalled the end of the performance. Tarquin ferried him to A&E where it transpired he had a broken ankle, which was put into plaster, and the nasty gash on his arm received five stitches. Mabel, our stalwart seamstress has assured us that with a soak in some Persil the blood will wash out and the costume can be salvaged for future use. Aubrey has informed me that he is already working on an idea for next Winter’s production… ‘’Snow White & the Seven Dwarfs join Peter Pan in Never Never Land ‘’ It’s such a shame that I won’t be able to direct this production…… I’m emigrating to New Zealand!

WANTED FOR MARCH’S AND APRIL’S BUGLE

More Articles : More Stories : More Poems : More Photos : More Memories Please note: APRIL 2021 will be the last Bugle

26 ……… IN PLEASANT PLACES (i)

BY: HILARY PENNEY

The words of Psalm 16 v 6 came to me recently: “The lines are fallen unto me in pleasant places; yea, I have a goodly heritage” and I thought how true that is; not that I have always lived in terribly pleasant places, you understand, but I have had a goodly share of them and the first time that I was conscious of this was in the spring of 1961.

My father had just been offered the post of Rector of Eglantine Parish, a dozen or so miles to the south of Belfast, set in the gentle County Down countryside, close to the main Belfast – Dublin road. It was his first independent “command” after he had served the usual, in those days, 6 years as a curate in various Belfast Parishes. The whole family set off to view our new home, my parents having been previously warned by the churchwardens that the house might need a certain amount of TLC as it had been only recently vacated by the previous incumbent, Canon Mitchell, who had lived there with his wife for 44 years. But nothing that we imagined could have prepared us for the reality.

Wellington Lodge, as it was when we first saw it in 1961

For all my 13 or so years we had lived in modest semi-detached houses and latterly, in a really small semi on a brand new housing estate. What lay before us now as we turned in through the wrought-iron gates, was a mansion! Or so it seemed to us children anyway. It was a Georgian house tacked on to an 18th century former coaching or posting inn set in 10 acres of paddocks and orchard, gardens, stables, byre, barn! All, apart from the paddocks, were in a state of overgrown neglect, although fragrant with hawthorn and apple blossom. To four suburban children aged from 3 to 13 it was heaven on a plate; to my rather stunned parents it must have presented a challenge indeed.

We learned that the house previously known as Wellington Lodge had been built in the early 1800s by a veteran of the Napoleonic wars, the older inn being incorporated in to the new building. It was bought by the Parish in the mid 1800s to be used as the Rectory (in the Church of Ireland it is usually the Parish that owns the clergy house and is responsible for its upkeep). The entrance hall and two reception rooms at the front were elegant and spacious with high ceilings and large fireplaces, a sweeping staircase led to the upper storey where there were six bedrooms. The “old” house comprised another reception room that served as Dad’s study, a big kitchen that included a coal-fired range, sculleries and pantries, and a set of bells in the passage 27 connected to the bell-pulls in the main house. There was, mercifully, a reasonable bathroom upstairs and a cloakroom downstairs but all the water for the house came via a large cast-iron pump in one of the sculleries. 400 turns of the wheel were necessary to fill the attic tanks so it was no surprise that one of my father’s first actions was to have the Water Board connect us to the mains. The question of the drains was another contentious matter and I do not intend to elaborate on it here!

Once the churchwardens realised that the Revd Fred and his family were content, indeed excited, to take on this slice of gracious living, a massive re-decoration ensued under the tasteful direction of my artistic mother, new carpets and curtains for the drawing-and-dining rooms and a general wash and brush up for the rest of the house. We did not have nearly enough furniture to fill it but relatives and friends made up the deficit, probably glad to offload various items; eventually we had three pianos and an American organ! Soon the Rectory was transformed into the vibrant family – and Parish – home that my parents’ imaginations had foreseen.

Of course there were hiccups along the way, rats for instance, rampant in the outhouses. Our Irish terrier, Connor, was able to deal with any on the ground but not in the roofs of the stables and barn so it was decided that we needed cats. The USPCA supplied us with two half-grown kittens, neutered toms allegedly, who within a year produced 13 kittens between them to the delight and amusement of all! They were greatly loved, cherished and named but eventually homes had to be found for most of them. However, the rat population definitely declined.

Then there was the ghost. On the whole a benign presence, but it definitely gave you a frisson when you turned round to speak to someone you were sure had just come into the scullery behind you, only to find nobody there; there were cold spots; little brother Peter described someone in “old” clothes who passed through his bedroom; the bells in the pantry sometimes jingled at strange times. These phenomena were dismissed by Dad as draughts and mice running along the bell wires but even he couldn’t explain away 3 year-old Peter’s revelation! However, we decided that if there was a ghost it was probably just the old inn-keeper doing his rounds and he was accepted as one of the fixtures and fittings.

The kitchen, with its range, was the heart of the home, and, unless a fire was lit in the main rooms, the warmest place to be. No central heating in those days! When we came home from school we were never quite sure who would be sitting at the big square table – maybe a parishioner or neighbouring farmer in for a bit of “craic” or a ”gentleman of the road” enjoying a bully-beef sandwich and a mug of tea. Once there was even the PM of N Ireland, Sir Terence O’Neill, quite at home, with a plate of Mum’s shortbread and a teapot at his disposal. I think he had come to confer with Dad over the growing civil rights unrest in the Province but we children were generally unaware of the rising tensions and the pervading influence of Ian Paisley’s supporters. (NB: with hindsight, shades of D J Trump?).

The “big snow” of 1962/63 found us cut off from the rest of the world for many days, the snow reaching as high as the porch roof, but eventually the local farmers were able to plough two tracks along the main road that led to the village of Hillsborough and we managed to dig a path out to the road. Then we forayed out with sledge and rucksacks to find some fresh provisions for we had been living on broth, soda bread and potatoes for some time, as I remember. The power lines had come down so Tilly lamps and 28 candles served us for light and the range in the kitchen kept us warm and cooked our food. It was many weeks before life fully returned to normal and I’m sure it was a sore trial to our parents but for us children it was a delightful novelty until my mother, a teacher by profession, introduced a rigorous course of home-schooling!

The adventures we had in that beloved book-and-music-filled house were numerous, along with a fluctuating population of family members, school-friends, parishioners, pets (later including an ex-polo pony put out to grass on a Rectory paddock, my responsibility) and none of us have ever forgotten it. Eventually though, in the late 1960s, the Parish decided that the expenses of upkeep were getting too much, the Rectory reverted to being Wellington Lodge and was sold to a carpet magnate; a new red-brick bungalow was built next-door to All Saints’ church, very comfortable and fit for purpose and yet, and yet ….. we all grieved. Shortly afterwards, my parents, sister Rosemary and brother Peter moved to another Parish and brother Roger and I set off out into the world.

I have been back to see Wellington Lodge once or twice. It has changed hands a couple of times since we left and is now a “des res”, all mod cons (including a sauna!), centrally-heated, buffed and polished to an immaculate degree altogether, with Country Life-worthy grounds and telephone-entry system on the gates. I was glad in a way that it had changed so much; it made it easier to leave it.

Wellington Lodge circa. 1980s

29 GREAT LODGE

BY: REBECCA JORDAN

It is 10 years since I moved to Great Lodge to help my father run the estate, although my family have farmed here for many generations.

Great Lodge was originally part of an enclosed medieval deer park, owned by the Crown. The manor house was Bardfield Hall and during the 14th century it was one of the residences of Elizabeth de Burgh, whose royal guests, including the Black Prince, would certainly have hunted here. It was given to Anne of Cleves by Henry VIII after their marriage was annulled and the ‘Anne of Cleves’ barn was built during her ownership, to store hay for the deer. The brick and tile building is Grade 1 listed as the width and construction of the roof is thought to be unique not only in Essex but also in England.

In 1622 by Sir Martin Lumley, a wealthy London draper and alderman bought the estate and rather than live at Bardfield Hall, Lumley built a mansion with extensive outbuildings. The mansion stood in front of the present house in the field where our alpacas now live. Unfortunately, the family’s fortunes declined when James, son of the 4th Sir Martin, was declared insane and ran up so much debt, that an act of parliament forced him to sell the estate.

Great Lodge was bought in 1729 by Edward Stephenson, former Governor of the East Indies who demolished the Lumley mansion and converted the west end of the buildings into a fine house. At that time the buildings joined up to the barn, in an open E. The land was disparked, probably for financial reasons.

For most of the nineteenth and twentieth century there were a succession of owners who did not live here.

1906 sales particulars list Joseph Smith as a tenant farmer. He was my great grandfather and the estate has been farmed by Joseph Smith Farms Partnership ever since.

The house fell into a poor state of repair and was unoccupied in the 1920s.

C. Henry Warren wrote in 1947; '.....time has no meaning at Great Lodge anymore. Any nobody, I think, will ever take the air again under its sunny, mellow wall. Inhabited by ghosts and jackdaws only, it must stand unwanted until it falls, or is pulled down. It’s day is done'. ‘Adam was a Ploughman’

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Joseph Smith Farms, tried for many years to buy the house and farm, negotiations complicated by the fact that the owner was reclusive and lived abroad. However, they finally succeeded in late 1951.

In the 1950s a large run of farm buildings linking the existing house with the barn was demolished due to the cost of repair.

In 1989 my father started diversifying and planted our vineyard with Bacchus and Reichensteiner grapes. The Reichensteiner didn’t flourish and have since been grubbed up, but the Bacchus produces two award winning still white wine; Bardfield Bacchus which is dry and Anne of Cleves medium dry. Since then, we have added Pinot Noir which makes a rosé and is also blended with Pinot Meunier and Seyval Blanc for a sparkling brut, made using the traditional champagne method. The vineyard was awarded organic status by the Soil Association in 2020.

Our next project was to develop our grade I listed barn into a wedding venue. After years of negotiation with English Heritage and the addition of toilets and a kitchen we held our first wedding here in 2014. We also have occasional concerts and pop-up opera performances.

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A few years later we converted a courtyard of redundant barns in to wedding and self-catering accommodation.

We are committed to environmental schemes and the farm is in the Higher Level Stewardship scheme which includes planting wild flower margins around our fields and special measures to try and redress the decline of the turtle dove.

In 2013 we planted a new wood with over 2000 native trees and shrubs and continue to plant trees and hedges every year. There are many owl boxes providing homes for our beautiful barn owls and the latest project for this spring is to build 5 ponds for newts.

On Tuesday mornings we run ‘Keep Growing’ a therapeutic horticulture project for adults with mental health difficulties in partnership with Mind West Essex.

Please do come and visit us when restrictions are lifted. Our shop is open weekdays between 10am – 4pm and sells our wines and wool from our alpaca herd. You can do a self-guided tour with maps and information sheets from the shop or join a vineyard tour and tasting on a Thursday morning between May and September.

If you would like to help feed the alpacas give me a ring. www.greatlodge.co.uk 01371 810776 [email protected]

32 SHALFORD ORGAN

BY: RICHARD WEBB

Hello Everyone (Your Resident Organist Retired!)

My name is Richard Webb. I play organs, pianos and keyboards. I was born in Blackmore End. My mother used to clean the Parish Church there. She would sit me on the organ seat, pump the organ full of wind and let me carry on with my music. I suppose that was the start of my musical life!!! I was about four or five years old then.

The organ in Shalford Parish Church was built by William Hill and Sons in 1881. The organ has two keyboards and a pedal keyboard of thirty keys played by the feet. The instrument has 745 pipes. The organ pipes are in ranks, two sections. One section with seven ranks of pipes called the ‘Great Organ’ and the second section with six ranks of pipes called the ‘Swell Organ’. This section is enclosed in a ‘Swell Box’ with shutters which open and shut and are controlled by a central pedal just above the pedal board on the organ console.

The instrument has an electric blower to supply a constant flow of wind into the bellows. The blower consists of an electric motor and fan enclosed in a wooden box known in the trade as the Blower Box!! The organ pipes are made of various materials, i.e. soft metal approx 70% lead, rolled zinc for the larger pipes on the front of the organ and others are made of wood. Larger bass pipes are often made from pine.

Shalford’s organ is very nice to play. It has recently been overhauled by my friend Andrew Stevens who is an organ builder and tuner and has tuned over 200 organs. I was trained as an organ pipe maker and voicer at Hill, Norman and Beard at Thaxted. Whilst there I worked on some very interesting organs, some very large with thousands of pipes. The large organs I worked on were Norwich Cathedral, Holbrook School, Gloucester Cathedral, Londonderry Guildhall and many others and some quite small ones with just a few hundred pipes.

I am now retired as organist of Finchingfield Parish Church after 53 years and of course I’ve played at Wethersfield and Shalford many times.

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LASTING POWERS OF ATTORNEY – IGNORANCE IS

NOT BLISS……don’t lose your Voice

BY: ADRIAN QUICK, MSc FPFS LLAA

Welcome to the second of three articles about ‘Doing the Right Thing’ by engaging in later life planning.

Last month I introduced why later life planning should be on your horizon and gave a basic outline of health v social care. This month I’m focusing on how to ensure your voice is still heard and relevant when you lose the ability to speak for yourself.

I recommended Elizabeth Orr’s book detailing her personal journey looking after her brother. If you have read ‘Who Can Care For Me Now?’ then you will have an insight to the harrowing outcomes that can happen when your voice is lost.

I highlighted Dementia last month as a significant contributor to loss of mental capacity as it has such a large impact across all communities. However, in March 2020 we were introduced to a new risk…Covid-19. Not only is this pandemic’s spread not ageist, but it can induce loss of capacity with alarming speed. Be grateful if you, your family or your friends and neighbours have escaped its touch, so far.

I am sure most of you have written your Will, appointing executors to be your voice in death and to give direction on your preferred funeral arrangements and the financial distribution of your estate. A Lasting Power of Attorney is your opportunity to direct your care and financial security through trusted persons whilst in life if you lose your voice.

Why would someone need an LPA?

Some people, including people with dementia, will come to a point where they are unable to make decisions about their finances or care anymore. This is called loss of ‘mental capacity’.

‘A person is judged to have lost mental capacity when they can no longer understand the information needed to make the decision, weigh the information up, retain the information for as long as is necessary to make the decision, and communicate their decision to others’.

So what are Lasting Powers of Attorneys, how do they secure ‘your voice’ and how do you get one set up?

A Lasting Powers of Attorney (LPA) identifies and empowers your personal representatives with the legal capacity to both speak and take action on your behalf. LPAs cover two specific responsibilities:

• Property and Financial Affairs (P&FA) - Used to give an attorney the power to make decisions about money and property for you, ie:

34 • managing a bank or building society account • paying bills • collecting benefits or a pension • selling your home

The P&FA LPA can be structured to be effective at anytime as chosen by you, with or without limitations and restrictions, but will automatically be triggered in full on your loss of capacity.

Some of you may have an older style Enduring Power of Attorney (EPA). These are similar to a P&FA LPA, also with no authority for health and welfare matters and remain valid documents.

• Health and Welfare (H&W) - Used to give an attorney the power to make decisions for you about things like:

• your daily routine, ie: washing, dressing, eating • medical care • moving into a care home • life-sustaining treatment

The H&W LPA is only triggered on your loss of capacity. The person who creates the LPA is the donor, and the people (more than one please) who agree to accept the responsibility to act on the donor’s behalf are the attorneys.

Multiple attorneys can be appointed to act independently (joint and several) or only jointly. Please give this careful thought when making your appointments and seek advice if in doubt. Of course, the attorneys nominated must agree to the role and the legal and moral responsibilities should not be underestimated. Ensure that your wishes are explained and understood (which you could provide as written guidance) through possible scenarios such as:

• domiciliary care in your home or care in a residential home • non-resuscitation events • ongoing birthday and Christmas gifts For some reason, as a nation we’ll talk about our ailments with all and sundry but are often reluctant to discuss and plan for the possibility of ill health and certainty of death, even with our closest families and friends. These discussions are so important to ensure that your attorneys (and executors in your Will) have clarity of your wishes, are restricted in their capacity to override your wishes or imposing their views and importantly minimize the scope for family conflict. Yes, all of these happen, and preparation and engagement are the keys to successful management and avoidance of the issues.

NB: LPAs are registered with the Office of Public Guardian when created and means your attorney can become your voice immediately you lose capacity. However, if you have an EPA it cannot be registered until capacity has been lost, so expect a considerable delay before your attorneys can speak for you.

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The areas of each LPA responsibility are specific, and importantly there is no default overlap. Holding the property and financial affairs LPA does not confer any capacity to act on matters relating to the donor’s health and welfare, and vice versa. Both property and financial affairs and health and welfare LPAs are critically important…without both your voice cannot be heard.

Myth buster: contrary to popular opinion, being the spouse, partner, child etc does not grant any default legal capacity to act on someone else’s behalf when they lose capacity to act for themselves. Without valid LPAs or EPA in place, the only alternative is to seek deputyship via the Court of Protection.

You can consult a legal professional to set up your LPAs or do it yourself via the online Gov.uk link https://www.gov.uk/power-of-attorney . The cost is not high and the value beyond measure.

A few words of caution if you prefer the DIY option: make sure you read the guide first and ensure you follow it precisely, paying particular attention to the signature and witness process. Some mistakes cannot be corrected and will require a new application, duplicating the cost and introducing further delays.

In case you’re wondering, HarperLees does not offer a LPA writing service, although we can refer you to appropriate legal professionals.

Having a lasting power of attorney is a bit like having life insurance…it’s too late to do anything about it after the event. You have to plan and take action before you might need the protection of a LPA or a life policy, hoping you’ll never need either.

Please feel free to call or email me and have a confidential chat if you have any immediate concerns. At the very least, I should be able to offer support or direct you to another appropriate professional.

Adrian Quick HarperLees 01277 350560 [email protected]

HarperLees is a trading style of HLSFM Ltd which is authorised and regulated by the Financial Conduct Authority (409034)

36 THE STORES, SHALFORD

BY: SIMON BREEZE

Having been asked to share my experiences and memories of The Stores, located opposite The George pub, I shall try my best to do so.

I have always had fond memories of spending some of my time as a child and teenager at The Stores. I discovered the Shalford Village Facebook page late in 2020 during Lockdown and immediately wondered if there was any reference to The Stores so I joined. I then saw my Mother and picked up many photographs I knew she had. Amongst the photographs were several of The Stores. I still have some more photographs but as of yet have been unable to locate them.

I uploaded these photos on the Facebook page and the positive response was quite overwhelming and I was extremely pleased that others also had fond memories as well as some interesting tales to share.

My Grandfather, Charles Breeze, and his wife Peggy, purchased The Stores in 1965 or thereabouts as my Grandmother had contracted TB and were advised to move out of East London (West Ham) for health reasons. A friend of Charlie’s informed him that The Stores was vacant so it was purchased as a private sale. They had the intention of running it as the Village Shop. They had been informed they would stand a good chance of being granted the Post Office franchise but this did not materialise. They started to run The Stores as a shop but after a short period of time it became apparent that it was not financially viable so it was closed in 1968. In the early 1970’s The Stores reopened for a short period of time as an Antiques Shop by the Hutchings.

I was born in 1967 and Christened in St Andrews in 1968, I still have my Pewter Christening mug stating these facts! My earliest memories of The Stores included getting Fish & Chips from the mobile Chippy who would park up on the Barryfields Estate next to the rather large garden The Stores possessed. I also recall ‘exploring’ down the lane which ran along a small brook to the Dutch barns which, looking at Google Maps now, seem to have disappeared. There ‘was’ a small wall with a concrete platform in the brook which I used to use to hide and play. As with so many of us, who are of a certain age, our childhood days were spent exploring in woods and, in my case, swimming and fishing in The River Pant as well as collecting the Bulrushes found there.

Charlie was a keen, if somewhat messy woodworker, often turning up lampshades, ash tray stands to name a few on his woodworking lathe. This hobby used to take place in the large Nissin hut behind, what is now Number 1. There was the Old Bacon House also behind Number 1 where he would develop his own photographs being a keen amateur photographer too. Those buildings have now long gone. 37 Charlie Breeze Standing Behind the Nissan Hut At some point in the late 1970’s, Charlie sold The Stores to my Father, Mike Breeze. Dad was an army man so I spent most of my time as a young child visiting our respective Grandparents during the summer holidays as we were based overseas in Germany as well as Kuwait. Dad wanted to settle in The Stores so set about doing some repair and maintenance work to the property. This included upgrading the bathroom and building a large inglenook type fire place in the centre of what was the old shop. At that time the shop windows were of the bulls eye type glass and rather old. I do recall heated discussions as the planning authorities would not allow the glass to be changed. We rarely went into the old shop; we spent most of our time in the smaller back room adjacent to the kitchen as well as in the kitchen itself with the large Rayburn in it. The kitchen was adorned with lime coloured shelving racked out with Cornish ware crockery, some of which I still have. Upstairs the first room on the left of the landing was another large and rather sumptuous, living room with a small bar and low ceiling with black beams covered in horse brasses. The floor sloped a lot!

At the end of the landing on the left was the master bedroom, again in the same theme as the previous room. My parents and my twin sisters would sleep in here. There was another small bathroom and one bedroom on the opposite side of the landing. Charles would sleep here with me or sometimes I would end up on an army camp bed in the old shop itself.

Dad’s plans were soon curtailed as it became apparent The Stores was haunted! Mum became acutely aware that there was a small girl who made her self known in the master bedroom in the night on more than one occasion. Charlie had always said he had his ‘friends’ in The Stores. There was a story he knew of a ghost or presence in the cellar who he regularly had ‘contact’ with. This was verified by comments during the Facebook postings. A picture, of a very old pair of leather shoes found in a chimney recess recently, was shown on the Facebook post which was thought to have been those of the girl’s who was the ghost Mum saw!

As my Father was based abroad in Germany with the British Army I was despatched to boarding school. I ended up at Gosfield School so very close to Shalford still. This was nice as it meant during half terms and the long weekends (Exeats) we were granted I could spend my time in the village. During these times I continued to explore the local area 38 and began to venture further afield. This included cycling to Finchingfield and I recall going to the USAAF base at Wethersfield where I would frequent the PX stores for American ‘candy’.

It was during my time at school that Dad sold The Stores and then the 4 cottages became what they are now. By this time Mrs Watkinson (or Posher as she was known apparently) and Mrs Pasfield had either passed away or moved on. Mrs Watksinson lived in what is now Number 1 and Mrs Pasfield number 4. I have vague recollections of these elderly ladies. I am pretty certain for a long time the amenities we are all used to now, such as central heating etc. were not present in the two end cottages. I recall it was a particularly stressful time for Dad. He was finding it difficult to sell The Stores. It ended up being sold to a Maurice ‘somebody’, I can’t remember the full name, who was based in East Dereham Norfolk at some point in, I would say, 1982 or 1983.

As part of the sale this allowed Charlie to move into what is now Number 4. Extensive modernisation (for that period!) which included, the avocado bathroom suite, was carried out. I can recall the décor and layout of the rooms. The living room was on the front corner with a new Parkray fire fitted and the sitting room next door. Again decorated with black beams and horse brasses but seldom used.

I don’t recall the first owners of the other 3 cottages as; by then, my family had settled in Lincolnshire and visits to Granddad were not so common. I was then at my local college and was beginning to lead my own life.

I have visited the village on a few occasions since. I never saw anybody to speak to but although there were and have been many external changes it was still obvious that this was the old family home. I have never been fortunate to look inside. This is something I would like to do. There are a myriad of pictures on various Estate Agents websites and it is almost impossible to work out which room is which now as a raft of modernisations and decorating has been done now. I have to say tastefully too!

Hopefully, in the not so far future I will be able to meet some of those who gave me so much pleasure in their comments on the Facebook page and see inside the old home once more. I am sure this will spark some The rear of the main house as was. Now further memories for me! number 3 and 2? Bottom left – kitchen Bottom right – small sitting room

39

THE MEMORIES OF EVA WARING (NEE RUST)

AS TOLD TO BILL ASKEW

When I left school in 1931 most girls had to go into service and I started work at Redfants Manor which wasn’t far from us so I could go daily without living in. I would walk down to Redfants and I worked from 8 o’clock in the morning until 6 o‘clock in the evening, but I seldom actually finished at 6 pm. I would mainly do cleaning work. At Redfants they had tiled floors in the kitchen and a long passage which led up to the dining room and they had to be cleaned and polished with red Cardinal polish, you could buff up the tiles and get a lovely shine. Mr and Mrs. Haycock were living at Redfants at that time. Mrs. Haycock came to mum and arranged for me to go and work for her when I left school. When it came to school holiday time, prospective employers would find out who had left school and Mrs. Haycock had found out that I had left at that Easter and my employment was arranged between her and mum. Mum said to me “You will start work down at Redfants as soon as you have left school”. And of course, I did, for five shillings a week in old money, 25p in today’s money. We really worked hard in service, we had a short break for dinner but other than that you were kept at it. The Haycocks would provide my lunch and I would have whatever the family had, of course, I would eat in the kitchen while the family used the dining room. Mrs. Haycock used to help me to do the washing which we did in the back scullery. She had the first washing machine that I had ever seen. She was all for having things that were labour saving. On this early machine you had to turn the handle through 180 degrees 150 times. It had a little wringer on and we would put the washing through the wringer, then we tipped the washing water out and refilled with rinsing water, so it took quite a while. At the time it was the latest thing. Another one of my cleaning tasks was look after the kitchen range and clean out the flues with a little brush. It was quite a hard life but it taught you a lot.

I left service at Redfants when the family moved from Ringers to Queenborough Lane and it was then that I started work in Courtaulds at Bocking. It was a great improvement on life as a domestic servant, I thought I was in heaven, I had fourteen shillings a week to start with. It was a different world. I was able to keep some of the money I earned at Courtaulds. I worked on a shirt machine, piece work, it was right at the top of this building and I liked working with the machines, it was the best job I ever had. I have always liked needlework. Part of my job used to be a stitching a little gusset in the tail of the shirts. The factory wasn’t far from our cottage in Queenborough Lane but then Dad got a job in Blackmore End and that meant that we had quite a bike ride to work at Bocking. I would cycle to work with my brother Ken and a girl called Rita Wash. In good weather it was a great pleasure but, of course, when the weather was bad it was horrible, especially when it snowed. Whatever the weather I would never have dared to turn round and go home, we could never say we couldn’t bike to work, in those days you went to work no matter what, that was very much the culture of the time. One frosty morning, Ken came off his bike at the top of a hill and slid all the way to the bottom on his backside. That became a running joke for quite a long while. I loved working at Courtaulds, on piecework I could earn as much as £3. I had to give mum £1 but that left me with £2 all to myself! I mostly saved my money, we used to buy Post Office savings stamps from a lady who came round the factory on Fridays. We would stick the stamps in a little savings book, I think it took 5

40 shillings worth of stamps to fill a book. I stayed at Courtaulds until I married my husband Ellis in 1940. He got called up exactly four weeks after our marriage and he was sent to the far east. I can’t tell you how lucky he was, he was captured but managed to escape from Singapore. He struggled to swim out to a raft, even though he couldn’t really swim. The people on board pulled him out of the water and I think they managed to get to Java or somewhere like that. From there he got on a boat and ended up in Ceylon. I didn’t see him for about four years. At the time, of course, I didn’t know what had happened to him and I was heartbroken when I received a telegram from the Government telling me that Ellis was lost and believed to have been taken a prisoner. Meanwhile, I had resumed work at Courtaulds and I had gone back home to live with mum and dad. Ellis and I had taken a little cottage when we married, just three rooms and a scullery, but when Ellis was called up I didn’t want to stay there on my own and it was easier to manage on the rations if people lived together. Throughout WW2 I kept the little cottage on. It was a bungalow really, which had been built on to one side of The Limes (now called Horseshoes). It was right opposite Mr. Hornsby’s garage.

WALKING AROUND SHALFORD

BY: GILL ASKEW

Left: Water Lane Jaspers Green

Right: Stoneleigh Park

Right: Stoneleigh Park

Left: Playing Fields

41 HOW I CAME TO BE RURAL ADVISER & AGRICULTURAL CHAPLAIN . . .

BY: REVD CANON JANET NICHOLLS

I’m sometimes asked how I came to be the Rural Adviser and Agricultural Chaplain for the Diocese of Chelmsford. I’ve never found a succinct answer. But I’ve promised a couple of people that I’ll attempt an explanation via this piece!

A good starting point is the prayer that I’ve carried in my purse for many years. It’s now very tatty and dog-eared but the words hold as true as they did on the day I first prayed it:

Lord, this is my desire: To walk along the path of life that you have appointed for me, in steadfastness of faith, in lowliness of heart, in gentleness of love.

In looking back on my life, I sense that all the paths that I’ve walked have led to my present ministry.

Born in Nottinghamshire, I moved to Frenches Farm in Little Bardfield in1969 with my parents and two younger brothers. I recall being asked if I was American on my first day at Great Bardfield Primary School. Later I realised that any non-local dialect was usually American due to the active USAF airbase at Wethersfield! My brothers and I learned the hands-on reality of farming from an early age. Whenever I see an old Massey Ferguson 65, my mind’s eye transports me back to proudly harrowing and rolling my first field at Oxen End, aged 14! An agricultural childhood provides many life-lessons. I left the farm with an enduring love of farming, a deep respect for all who dedicate their lives to producing our food and an appreciation of the tough reality of the farming life.

As a teenager, I was invited to an overnight Easter Vigil at the atmospheric St Peter’s- on-the-Wall at Bradwell-on-Sea. The vigil was notable on two counts. The barbecue on the beach was cooked by a young Peter Nicholls. We’ve now been married for 34 years and he continues to cook a very good barbecue! The climax of the vigil was watching the sun rise on Easter morning. The sunrise held a moment of profound spiritual experience for me. It’s lodged deep in my soul and has shaped the way I’ve walked the path of life from there on.

Following ‘A’ levels, it was a time to stretch wings away from the farm into Higher Education. Four years as a student in London gave me sufficient experience to acknowledge that the city dulled my senses and the countryside restored me to life in its fullness. I was delighted to be offered my first teaching post back in Great 42 Bardfield. This time I wasn’t mistaken for an American! I enjoyed teaching in several local schools and especially loved inspiring youngsters who had Special Needs. This led to an additional qualification in teaching children with Physical and Neurological Disabilities and a specialist advisory role with Essex County Council. One of the advantages (?) of working in education was that the autumn term usually finished with enough time for me to put in a few days hard labour for Mac Beanland Turkeys!

In 1996 we moved to Shalford. With two young children we became immersed in village life. On our first Sunday in Shalford, I stepped inside St Andrew’s and I’ve found it impossible to leave ever since! It was my first experience of the Church of England. It took me some time to get used to the services but in our 700-year-old House of Prayer, the sense of God’s peace filled me regardless of my ability (or lack of….) to follow the Anglican liturgy. It was from this rather low base line that I eventually listened to the encouragement of friends and confidantes. I began to explore the route to ordination. At each stage of this lengthy process, the path continued to lie open ahead of me inviting me to take the next step of vocational exploration.

The rather gruelling Church of England selection process resulted in the green light for ordination training and theological study. The next three years brought regular weekend residential courses, Summer Schools and weekly tutorials in Cambridge. Ever since, I’ve encouraged anyone who is considering studying later in life to go for it! Whilst it took care to maintain continuing professional commitments and family life, I found theological study inspiring and life-affirming. It was wonderful to undertake ministerial education in an environment that celebrated the richness of diversity. I have always been wary of any interpretation of faith that narrows perceptions of God and humanity.

To be offered a curacy locally was both humbling and daunting. It remains the greatest privilege to serve you in Christian ministry. Being trusted with the happiest and saddest parts of your lives is a huge honour. When I stand in a pulpit, I’m mindful that some of you are listening to a sermon preached by someone you knew during her childhood and teenage years on a farm up the road. But when my curacy was coming to an end, I knew that the usual route to incumbency wasn’t going to work for my family. If this was a crossroads, there wasn’t an obvious path to follow.

But this was the moment when the Diocese of Chelmsford was looking to appoint a Rural Adviser and Agricultural Chaplain. They were seeking an ordained person who could be an authentic advocate for rural issues and the rural church. There was a desire to reinvigorate the Christian agricultural festivals across the diocese to re-awaken a sense of rural spirituality in these times of increasing urbanisation and climate change. The role included developing a chaplaincy for farmers, strengthening rural charities and representing the rural voice of the diocese in a range of organisations and in the media. I was appointed in 2015 and it is with an enduring sense of conviction that I continue

To walk along the path of life appointed for me, in steadfastness of faith, in lowliness of heart, in gentleness of love.

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The path twists and turns with many surprises. I certainly didn’t expect to be an Honorary Canon of Chelmsford Cathedral or Chaplain to the High Sheriff of Essex. Both are great honours. But probably the most valued part of ministry is rarely seen or shared. It is the quiet work of being with those who are facing steep and painful paths. I thank all of you who trust me with such precious ministry. It’s where we truly walk in gentleness of love.

DON MAVIS

Sadly, Don passed away on the 2nd January. We have lost yet another wonderful gentle, gentleman and we would like to offer our sincere condolences to Barbara, Alison, Adrian, Alexander and the rest of their family. Softly spoken Don was one of our first Meet and Greeters and always one of the first to help clear away tables and chairs and congratulate “us girls” on the selection of food.

Friends in the village will miss the very familiar figure of Don; seen out and about walking the family’s chocolate Labrador, Blake, and they will miss their “chat”.

There is no doubt that Don will be missed by many but never forgotten. Rest in peace Don – it was an honour and privilege to know you. We will remember . . . ……

HE IS GONE BY: DAVID HARKINS

You can shed tears that he is gone Or you can smile because he has lived You can close your eyes and pray that he will come back Or you can open your eyes and see all that he has left Your heart can be empty because you can’t see him Or you can be full of the love that you shared You can turn your back on tomorrow and live yesterday Or you can be happy for tomorrow because of yesterday You can remember him and only that he is gone Or you can cherish his memory and let it live on You can cry and close your mind, be empty and turn your back Or you can do what he would want: smile, open your eyes, love and go on.

William Bendlowe Charity People Working for People Promoting Community Life

Bendlowes Encouraging Neighbourly Dialogue Locals Openingly Welcoming Every Supporter

It’s good to take part

Bugle Contact details: Alice Cox Email: [email protected] Telephone: 01371 851146 or 07850 264518

William Bendlowe Charity Number 241285 Trustees: Alice Cox Sally Welsh Alex Shannon