TARPORLEY & DISTRICT U3A “ISOLATION SPECIAL” NEWSLETTER No. 4 Tarporley & District U3A is a Registered Charity – No 1171370 If you want to respond, or contact any committee member, please phone the Secretary, Ken Wood, on 01829 733561 or email [email protected]CONTENTS: V.E. Day Project Page 1 U3A Diary Project Page 1 Our Blog Page 2 Covid 19 research project Page 2 Easy postage Page 2 Good news for gardeners Page 3 Interest Groups Page 3 Members Pages 4 - 7 3 EXCITING NEW U3A DEVELOPMENTS BOTH LOCALLY AND NATIONALLY V.E.DAY As we all know, the celebrations planned to commemorate the 75 th Anniversary of VE Day have had to be cancelled. To mark the occasion ourselves, we would like to collect together members’ stories of the occasion. Some of our older members will remember themselves – others will have stories told by parents and other relatives. You may have photographs of celebrations at the time, war-time records or pictures of family members in uniform, which you would be willing to share. Please contact us [email protected]or telephone our secretary, Ken (aka Sgt Major Wood) on 01829 733561 if you would like to join in U3A DIARY PROJECT Something that may interest you while we time on our hands and if you haven’t already heard about it is the U3A Diary Project (see the national website https://www.u3a.org.uk/ under “Learning”). I quote their information below: “Members are being asked to help craft a shared learning project where they create living history of this extraordinary time. We are currently living through an unprecedented period due to the coronavirus and everyone’s daily life is affected. The situation is impacting on people in lots of different ways and you will all have your own experiences, thoughts and reflections on how it is affecting you, both on a practical and on a psychological level. We would really like to capture all of this as part of a UK wide Diary Project. U3A is proud to be partnering with the Mass Observations Archive (MOA) to ensure we are making the most of each valuable contribution. The MOA will store each diary entry and make it available publicly for researchers and future historians looking to learn and write about these times using real
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TARPORLEY & DISTRICT U3A “ISOLATION SPECIAL” NEWSLETTER No. 4
Tarporley & District U3A is a Registered Charity – No 1171370
If you want to respond, or contact any committee member, please phone the Secretary, Ken
Ken (aka Sgt Major Wood) on 01829 733561 if you would like to join in
U3A DIARY PROJECT
Something that may interest you while we time on our hands and if you haven’t already heard about
it is the U3A Diary Project (see the national website https://www.u3a.org.uk/ under “Learning”). I quote their information below:
“Members are being asked to help craft a shared learning project where they create living history of this extraordinary time.
We are currently living through an unprecedented period due to the coronavirus and everyone’s daily life is affected. The situation is impacting on people in lots of different ways and you will all have your own experiences, thoughts and reflections on how it is affecting you, both on a practical and on a psychological level. We would really like to capture all of this as part of a UK wide Diary Project.
U3A is proud to be partnering with the Mass Observations Archive (MOA) to ensure we are making
the most of each valuable contribution. The MOA will store each diary entry and make it available
publicly for researchers and future historians looking to learn and write about these times using real
We‘ve been spending far too long watching the birds
in our camera nest box. They hatched on 1st May –
what a lovely day for that to happen! They doubled
in size in 3 days and now, at 6 days they are growing
feathers and trying to scramble out of the nest –
much too soon, of course, so they won’t manage it.
Both parents are flat out trying to keep up with their
appetites.
David and Rosemary Archer
Keith Barker has been writing poetry which he is kindly allowing us to publish here, while Christine
Brown has been taking some beautiful spring photos.
THOUGHTS ON A VIRUS
This virus has got us, takes us for a mug,
And forced isolation is really a bug.
The doctors and nurses are doing their best,
The drivers, the binmen, the posties, the rest -
Yes, all in the shops who supply us with food,
The comics on TV who lighten the mood.
The carers, good neighbours, old soldiers and more
And all who inspire with good deeds galore;
So much in donations in such a short while
Can only bring hope and a comforting smile.
If you can get out you can go for a walk
But just keep your distance and don’t stop to talk;
A cheery brief greeting no doubt that will please
But don’t even think about giving a sneeze.
For some on the front line who came to these shores
From far away countries, just now give a pause,
They came to give service in our NHS
But some have found heartbreak amid success.
For all who’ve lost family, a loved one, a friend,
The tragedies, the mourning, when will it all end?
Those who’ve been laid off, no income for now
With bills to pay weekly and food to buy – how?
And those in the care homes, they’ve had it so tough,
Of masks and of gowns there’s just not enough.
For schoolkids at home it’s just like a dream,
They can stare all day long at their favourite screen –
As long as they manage their homework and all,
And don’t drive their parents too far up the wall.
Some strive to keep going, working from home,
The lonely ones, housebound, just wait by the phone;
The entrepreneurs, for this country a must,
Weep tears as their empires just crumble to dust.
For some there are weddings and parties they’ve
missed,
For others, no hugging, no funeral, our masters insist.
Holidays cancelled – my money back please –
But hey, bulldog spirit, just get off your knees.
Look forward to visits to the pub or the caff,
When we can swap stories and have a good laugh;
Yes, we’ll meet again, we definitely must
And from our memories we’ll chip off some rust,
Recall all the good things we had in the past,
Make sure all the bad things just never will last
So trust in our leaders’ decisions we must
To lead us to glorious victory – or bust!
KEB 2020
Bill Harrison has also burst into verse, inspired – like Keith – by our current situation:
Wot I cud hav dun
I could have writ a mighty tome
Or learned to play the saxophone
When Boris told us all to stay at home
I haven’t done any of them
I could have decorated a room
Or sewed a quilt on home-made loom
The drive could be cleaned with a broom
I haven’t done any of them
I could have baked a lovely bun
But flour to buy there was none
A poem written that was fun
I haven’t done any of them.
W H 2020
We will all presume that Lin, at least, is learning the saxophone!
Many of us have more time to read now and several members have shared favourite
poems
THE TREES Philip Larkin The trees are coming into leaf Like something almost being said; The recent buds relax and spread, Their greenness is a kind of grief. Is it that they are born again And we grow old? No, they die too, Their yearly trick of looking new Is written down in rings of grain. Yet still the unresting castles thresh In fullgrown thickness every May. Last year is dead, they seem to say, Begin afresh, afresh, afresh. Shared by Carol Gardner
HOME THOUGHTS, FROM ABROAD (Extract – for May) Robert Browning
And after April, when May follows, And the whitethroat builds, and all the swallows! Hark, where my blossom'd pear-tree in the hedge Leans to the field and scatters on the clover Blossoms and dewdrops—at the bent spray's edge— That's the wise thrush; he sings each song twice over, Lest you should think he never could recapture The first fine careless rapture! And though the fields look rough with hoary dew, All will be gay when noontide wakes anew The buttercups, the little children's dower
—Far brighter than this gaudy melon-flower
MEG MERRILIES John Keats
Old Meg she was a gipsy; And liv'd upon the moors: Her bed it was the brown heath turf, And her house was out of doors. Her apples were swart blackberries, Her currants, pods o' broom; Her wine was dew of the wild white rose, Her book a church-yard tomb. Her brothers were the craggy hills, Her sisters larchen trees; Alone with her great family She liv'd as she did please. No breakfast had she many a morn, No dinner many a noon, And 'stead of supper she would stare Full hard against the moon. But every morn, of woodbine fresh She made her garlanding, And every night the dark glen yew She wove, and she would sing. And with her fingers old and brown She plaited mats o' rushes, And gave them to the cottagers She met among the bushes. Old Meg was brave as Margaret Queen, And tall as Amazon: An old red blanket cloak she wore, A chip hat had she on. God rest her aged bones somewhere-- She died full long agone! Shared by Kathryn Dahill