Granddad loved the park. He used to always wear dark navy dungarees which had his Players cigarettes in one pocket and his mint humbugs in the other. He used to talk to us about the beautiful trees and the wonderful flowers which he had planted, along with help from his colleague Mr Duffin. The crocuses and daffodils in the Spring, the tulips, then all the Summer meadow flowers which were in the fields at the bottom (not part of the park at that time but there nevertheless). We used to wander around to our heart’s content, climbing down on the rocks on the stream (as we called it), the overflow from the lake near the fountain. Run up and down the tree-lined area up to the beautiful lady statue. I used to think she must have been a very special lady to have a glass house built around her. She was so beautiful, with flawless white skin and a lovely sheer dress barely covering and, if my memory serves me right, she was playing a tambourine. Granddad used to tell us about the birds in the park and how he had a special friend which followed him everywhere. – Mr Robin. Mr Robin used to be partial to the odd worm and, in true Robin fashion, sit on the fork handle. Now and again he blessed us with a beautiful melodic song that truly touched us, bless him.

Dunorlan Park greenhouses

We never got to visit the greenhouses as they had likely been pulled down by then but Granddad told us it was a place where he grew lots of different flowers and even fruits!

He told me there were even pineapple pits – what is a pineapple pit? It’s a low greenhouse with a door which opens upwards. You fill it with straw and cut the top off a pineapple and plant it in soil in a big flowerpot, push the straw around it and keep it warm and moist!! If you are lucky, after about a year it will fruit. Granddad said it was so hard to do , but he decided to try.

He tended to the pineapple plant every day, making sure it was looked after and tucked up nice and warm in its straw bed. He said one day he could not believe it, a small shoot appeared in the middle of the plant (which had now grown a lot bigger). A stalk started to grow and on the end of it, a baby pineapple. He was so pleased he said, he even had a photo done.

The greenhouses at Dunorlan, by all accounts, in the house’s prime grew all sorts of produce and flowers. They had a special orchid house, an orangey to produce citrus fruits and a myriad of beautiful flowers, as you can see in the pictures. Thank you so much to my dad, Derek Beevis, for letting me show you some of the images from his private collection.

We are all prone to having a bit of a whinge about the number of repeated programmes on television and no more so than over the past six or seven months. I do believe some (not many) are worth repeating e.g. Saving Lives At Sea, wildlife programmes or films but, the amount of repeated rubbish recently has excelled itself!

I had a few spare minutes so took the time to look at the TV programmes page for three consecutive days in October with just four channels included, and the figures I’ve shown don’t include national or local news programmes as they’re always up-to-date. The channels were the basic BBC1, BBC2, ITV and Channel 4 and the results were quite gobsmacking for the three days from around 6am to midnight:

BBC1 had 28 repeated programmes out of a total of 61 programmes

BBC2 had 49 repeats out of 66

ITV had 8 out of 51

Channel 4 had 64 out of 90

It’s not rocket science to note which channels don’t seem to want to make an effort. Or maybe they feel it not necessary? I fully appreciate that it may have been difficult to come up with new programmes due to all the social distancing rules in place at the time, but ITV managed it so why can’t other channels?

Given that so many programmes have been repeated, are the BBC going to reduce the price of the TV license? (Note to self, must never think of becoming a comedienne!) If they can’t offer over-75s a free license, they’re hardly likely to reduce it for Joe Public are they.

I’ve spent a lot of time looking at other, less well known channels and their programmes can often be more interesting, despite also being repeats from years ago. But at least they’re watchable!

Joan Hamilton-Smith

In line with government guidance on the easing of restrictions on some sports, the Croquet Association (CA) is delighted to announce that many croquet clubs have reopened for their members. Croquet is the perfect social distancing sport and a croquet court is twice the size of a tennis court, so playing the game is no problem at all. The CA takes the view that reopening croquet clubs is good for the physical and mental wellbeing of individuals who are members and, as a consequence, members are clamouring to book lawn time for this fun, challenging and mentally engaging outdoor sport. For more details regarding the Tunbridge Wells Croquet Club in Calverley Grounds, call chairman Jon on 07885 372605 or visit the website at www.trunbridgewellscroquet.org.uk.

FEGANS

Remote counselling is helping teenagers in lockdown, says registered charity Fegans which provides qualified counselling and parent support services across the south. Fegans Counsellor Amanda Reid says that one of the biggest things is stress around schoolwork, with A-level students in particular feeling overwhelmed with the volume of work and worrying about falling behind. Interestingly there isn’t a lot of anxiety about the virus itself, but we can certainly see the anxiety of the parents coming through the child! Also, as we come out of lockdown and schools reopen, there may be new issues to deal with such as agoraphobia and OCD for example. For teenagers, online is their natural mode of communication so they are relaxed and willing to embrace sessions. The technology itself is really no big deal to them – it’s just the norm! For more details about Fegans visit www.fegans.org.uk.

Joan Hamilton-Smith

He and Pat describe the building between them: “The house, the shop and the large storeroom behind it were built of Kentish weatherboarding and probably dated back to the mid-1700s. They were painted white – a huge task that had to be undertaken ‘at least twice in every seven years’ according to the lease.

Downstairs in our living quarters, we had a front (best) room, main living room and little kitchen with the scullery beyond.

The front room seldom used except at Christmas, looked out onto a very small front garden in which nothing seemed to grow except the lilies-of-the-valley under the hedge. In this room stood the piano, played on special occasions by Mr Jones – ‘Jonah’ – from the garage and tyre depot in Prospect Road with more enthusiasm than accuracy. By the fireplace hung a bell-pull, suggesting that in better days the house had boasted a maid.

The living room was heated by a coal-burning kitchen range, which was surrounded by a tall fireguard, used for drying clothes. The table could be opened up by a screwing mechanism, for an extra section to be inserted, making it big enough to play table tennis on. The room had large theatre-like curtains across one end to cut down the draughts from four doors that led to the pantry, the kitchen, the stairs to the upper part of the house, and the passageway leading to our private front door.

At the other end of the living room, a door led directly into the storeroom and so into the shop.

Another door led out of the pantry down to one of the cellars. Except for growing an occasional crop of mushrooms, this cellar was rarely used. The other one, accessed from the storeroom, had nothing in it but a barrel of cider, being too damp to store anything else.

The stairs from the living room led up to four interconnecting bedrooms. There was no heating upstairs. Although each bedroom had a fireplace, these were never used.

The washing facilities consisted of a large china jug and basin standing on a marble-topped washstand in each bedroom. All water, hot or cold, had to be fetched from the kitchen downstairs. Between two of the bedrooms a narrow passageway from which a flight of stairs led up to a roomy attic. Apart from harboring the usual clutter, this was mainly used for storing apples.

The house had no bathroom. In winter we had our weekly bath standing in an oval zinc tub in front of the range in the living room. In summer we used the scullery. Water for the but, like the water for the jugs upstairs, had to be heated in large saucepans either on the range or on the gas stove in the kitchen.    

To be continued…..

Joan Hamilton-Smith

So, it begs the question, how are things going to look after many weeks of self-isolation by most people, whether they be over 50 or not.

From a personal point of view, I have plenty to keep me occupied but it doesn’t stop me feeling a bit down at times and, when going out for a walk, being mindful of veering away from others. So what about those who are indoors all the time, perhaps only wandering into their garden, walking round it a few time and then going back inside? Nobody to speak to, nobody knocking on their door, coming in for a chat or cuppa, any delivery people standing feet away and only waving when leaving.

It must be soul-destroying for anyone in that position, and the likelihood of them feeling anxious when able to go out will be difficult to overcome.

So, if you’re out and about and see an older person, possibly ‘taking the air’ for the first time in weeks and feeling quite nervous, move away so they don’t have to but don’t forget to give them a wave, cheery smile and maybe call over with just a few words so they don’t still feel totally isolated from the world in general. Being alone in your home is one thing, but being alone outside is something completely different. Think how you would feel if the boot was on the other foot………….

Joan Hamilton-Smith