Not Knowing What You've Got

Talk about not knowing what you've got.

Ally – a regular poster to uk.music.folk – posted a link to an old photograph of an Edinburgh character called John Codona, a one-man-band street entertainer in the 1950s and 60s. It immediately rang a faint bell at the back of my brain.

I'm the current custodian of photographs originally belonging to Dorothy Una Ratcliffe, the Yorkshire Dales dialect poet (1887 - 1967). They were given to me by her niece, Ludi Horenstein who has since died and there is no other family.

I've notified Leeds University that I have them but they seem supremely disinterested in doing anything with the other half of the collection which ended up with them after Ludi's death, so I figure it's better for me to make sure that they end up somewhere sensible. (flickr for starters, probably) and to keep them available for anyone who wants to come and take a look at them (which a couple of people have done already having found me via the relevant page on my artisan website http://www.artisan-harmony.com).

Anyhow, to cut a very long story short, because of the biographical research I've done on Dorothy, I was originally much more interested in the earlier family photos, but DUR's third husband was a professional photographer Alfred Vowles (later changed by deed poll to Alfred Vowles Phillips - another long and irrelevant story.) But part of my photo collection includes an album of black and white photos taken in Scotland, Ireland, the South West and Yorkshire. The ones from the 1950s are mostly Alfred's.

And sitting there in the middle of the 1950s album are some Edinburgh street photographs. Sure enough John Codona is in there but mis-labelled John Cadogan. It's definitely the same bloke as in Ally's 1960s picture, though. There are two photographs of him which I've put them on my new flickr site. Both are taken in Ann Street, Edinburgh 1955 where Dorothy and Alfred lived.

Looking through the photograph album I've got a chunk of social history in my hands - a fair bit of it is Scottish. There's everything here from photos of ancient stones to tinker camps, from groups of children (the Stout family) on the Fair Isles to fishing boats on the Fife coast. I've made a start on posting some of them. Take a look at my pics in the Dororthy Una Ratcliffe Gallery

I will gradually get around to posting more.

Not Knowing What You've Got

Talk about not knowing what you've got.

Ally – a regular poster to uk.music.folk – posted a link to an old photograph of an Edinburgh character called John Codona, a one-man-band street entertainer in the 1950s and 60s. It immediately rang a faint bell at the back of my brain.

I'm the current custodian of photographs originally belonging to Dorothy Una Ratcliffe, the Yorkshire Dales dialect poet (1887 - 1967). They were given to me by her niece, Ludi Horenstein who has since died and there is no other family.

I've notified Leeds University that I have them but they seem supremely disinterested in doing anything with the other half of the collection which ended up with them after Ludi's death, so I figure it's better for me to make sure that they end up somewhere sensible. (flickr for starters, probably) and to keep them available for anyone who wants to come and take a look at them (which a couple of people have done already having found me via the relevant page on my artisan website http://www.artisan-harmony.com).

Anyhow, to cut a very long story short, because of the biographical research I've done on Dorothy, I was originally much more interested in the earlier family photos, but DUR's third husband was a professional photographer Alfred Vowles (later changed by deed poll to Alfred Vowles Phillips - another long and irrelevant story.) But part of my photo collection includes an album of black and white photos taken in Scotland, Ireland, the South West and Yorkshire. The ones from the 1950s are mostly Alfred's.

And sitting there in the middle of the 1950s album are some Edinburgh street photographs. Sure enough John Codona is in there but mis-labelled John Cadogan. It's definitely the same bloke as in Ally's 1960s picture, though. There are two photographs of him which I've put them on my new flickr site. Both are taken in Ann Street, Edinburgh 1955 where Dorothy and Alfred lived.

Looking through the photograph album I've got a chunk of social history in my hands - a fair bit of it is Scottish. There's everything here from photos of ancient stones to tinker camps, from groups of children (the Stout family) on the Fair Isles to fishing boats on the Fife coast. I've made a start on posting some of them. Take a look at my pics in the Dororthy Una Ratcliffe Gallery

I will gradually get around to posting more.

Ups and Downs

Following an earlier post about friends health. Judy, stroke-victim, sadly passed away earlier today.
But the good news is that Les Barker is out of hospital and on his way to recovery.
So, okay 2008, that's enough doom and gloom. It all gets better from here on in, right?

Ups and Downs

Following an earlier post about friends health. Judy, stroke-victim, sadly passed away earlier today.
But the good news is that Les Barker is out of hospital and on his way to recovery.
So, okay 2008, that's enough doom and gloom. It all gets better from here on in, right?

(no subject)

Work was interrupted today by a clunk from the back door and a shout from the kitchen. By the tone of voice I knew I'd better get a move on. The voice said: Please come and help me as fast as you can but I'm trying not to panic you because there's not too much blood - honest. It's a tone of voice I'm horribly familiar with as the wife of an avid Do-It-Yourselfer.
Actually Best Beloved is a great Do-It-Himselfer. He's handy with any number of dangerous looking implements and is always extremely safety conscious. Without sprain or strain, he's just demolished and rebuilt the inside of our ancient barn - including taking down a whole upper floor and digging out the lower floor and laying twelve tons of concrete. He's also taught himself to build block walls (taking advice from a builder friend) and the most recent accomplishment is a fifteen foot high by twenty-five foot long block wall that's impressive in it's clinical verticularity. Not bad for an old guy, eh?
But small accidents happen. We need to budget for elastoplast and antiseptic cream, spray-on skin and finger-stalls.
This morning he was hanging joists to replace the demolished upper floor and caught his finger on a joist hanger. By the time I got into the kitchen most of the bleeding had stopped but his index finger was open to the knuckle, so it was grab a sterile pad from the first aid bag, get him to hold it on tight and call the local health centre. Bless them they said: come straight down. As we walked in the door they were waiting and ten minutes later Best Beloved had two stitches, a big white bandage and orders to keep it clean and return in two days for the dressing to be changed.
Did I also say he was incorrigible?
As I write this is he sitting in front of the telly taking it easy? Is he even upstairs in the studio getting on with some of the clean work that's to be done? Of course not. He's back out in the barn... Here he is having a celebratory cup of tea with the above mentioned finished block wall behind him.

If anyone wants to see the barn's progress (so far) it's at http://www.jacey-bedford.com/barn01.html

(no subject)

Work was interrupted today by a clunk from the back door and a shout from the kitchen. By the tone of voice I knew I'd better get a move on. The voice said: Please come and help me as fast as you can but I'm trying not to panic you because there's not too much blood - honest. It's a tone of voice I'm horribly familiar with as the wife of an avid Do-It-Yourselfer.
Actually Best Beloved is a great Do-It-Himselfer. He's handy with any number of dangerous looking implements and is always extremely safety conscious. Without sprain or strain, he's just demolished and rebuilt the inside of our ancient barn - including taking down a whole upper floor and digging out the lower floor and laying twelve tons of concrete. He's also taught himself to build block walls (taking advice from a builder friend) and the most recent accomplishment is a fifteen foot high by twenty-five foot long block wall that's impressive in it's clinical verticularity. Not bad for an old guy, eh?
But small accidents happen. We need to budget for elastoplast and antiseptic cream, spray-on skin and finger-stalls.
This morning he was hanging joists to replace the demolished upper floor and caught his finger on a joist hanger. By the time I got into the kitchen most of the bleeding had stopped but his index finger was open to the knuckle, so it was grab a sterile pad from the first aid bag, get him to hold it on tight and call the local health centre. Bless them they said: come straight down. As we walked in the door they were waiting and ten minutes later Best Beloved had two stitches, a big white bandage and orders to keep it clean and return in two days for the dressing to be changed.
Did I also say he was incorrigible?
As I write this is he sitting in front of the telly taking it easy? Is he even upstairs in the studio getting on with some of the clean work that's to be done? Of course not. He's back out in the barn... Here he is having a celebratory cup of tea with the above mentioned finished block wall behind him.

If anyone wants to see the barn's progress (so far) it's at http://www.jacey-bedford.com/barn01.html