May 22, 2020

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Christianity ✝️ | Family 👪 | Permanently Moved 🔊 | The Chalk ♘

S03E20

A simple ceremony at the top of my Grandad’s world in 1932

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Permanently moved is a personal podcast 301 seconds in length, written and recorded in one hour by @thejaymo

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Ascension Day 1932

I grew up in St Peter’s in Thanet, a place that whenever I include it on an address it feels like an assertion that it is a village with its own identity and history. Not just a conurbation of Broadstairs as it is today. Quite rightly too. 

The village of course is named after its church. A daughter church of Minster Abbey established in 1070. The building has a late Norman nave and an Early English Chancel. Its exterior as with many local buildings is flint and shines like polished black glass on a wet day when the sun is low in the sky in winter.

The church’s tower is 81ft, has battlements and contains a ring of 7 bells. It is tall enough to be seen from the sea and was used as a Naval signalling station in Napoleonic times. It still claims the right to fly the White Ensign to this day. The tower also has a large crack on its west side that is reputed to have been caused by the Dover Straits earthquake in 1580. For those of you who know your Dee, you’ll understand the signs and portents.

Over 500 years later in 1989 I was 4 and my brother wasn’t even born. The parish St Peter In Thanet released a book: Peeps into the past, memories of the village. It contains recollections from local residents from the village and their youth. It includes a piece from former prime minister Ted Heath, but more importantly (to me) there is a piece from my Grandad. About Ascension day 1932. 

I’m going to read it for you now. 

Ascension Day 1932 – By Laurie Springett

May, 1932, stands out in my memory when, as a lad, I was a member of the Y.P.F (Young Peoples’ Fellowship). During the course of one of our meetings that month the curate, the Reverend N. Hodgson, asked us a question which caused quite a stir. He enquired whether anyone would be willing to have prayers and a short service at the top of the Church tower on ascension Day. 

At first we were speechless and just looked at him as this was something quite new. We wondered what our parents and friends would say but the idea seemed to have certain logic and the thought of climbing up the tower staircase appealed to us.

On the following Thursday morning at about 6.45 a.m. a dozen of us turned up, having risen early, and made our way to Church. As I walked along I wondered whether anyone else would be there and I was accordingly glad to see my friends already waiting.

We climbed the tower at a fair pace eager to reach the top. On up past the bells and at last were there. What a view! The air was fresh after the exertion and we stood as a group while the service of prayers and the Ascension Day Collect was said. Way above the world the words seemed to take on real meaning. It was a unique experience, exclusive to us; a moment I have never forgotten.

When the short service ended, conversation commenced. We went to the edge, some gingerly, to look over the top. It seemed we could see for miles. In the distance was the sea but the landscape was mainly flat fields made interesting by the occasional clump of trees. We looked down on the adjacent farmyard and saw the vast barn roof from a different angle. On the other side was Dane Court, almost hidden from view amongst the trees. 

Beneath Us few people were about and those who were resembled tiny model figures. Mr. Hodgson asked if we could name anyone we saw but there was no one I knew. We hurried back down the steps eager to go home and recount our story.

I remember that the Ascension Day weather always seemed bright and sunny, except for 1934, when poured with rain. That year the service was held in the bellringers’ corner.

Eventually the custom ceased so I count myself fortunate to be one of the very few people, probably in England, to have experienced this simple ceremony.

Ascension Day has never attained the same status as other major feast days but Mr. Hodgson’s idea made it special for us. As soon as Easter was over we counted the days till Ascension Day arrived.

Perhaps in 1989, when the tower is restored, one of our curates will reintroduce the custom. If so i shall be there; but this time as one of the model figures on the ground! However, I shall be looking up at the youthful Quest members gazing down on me, remembering how I stood on top of the world sixty years ago.

I read that for the first time at home over Christmas with my family and I wonder: Of all the things he could have written about, the treasure trove of stories and information about the village that he was, why choose this recollection. He would have been about 13 or 14 at the time of its events. Perhaps there is something about climbing a blasted tower that touches everyone, especially if done on ascension day – a potent mix. 

I’ve only ever been up the tower once in the early 90’s. I too remember similar feelings to my Grandad. That new view of a familiar landscape  augmented by height. I am extremely grateful that this was the story he chose to tell and leave behind,

I am lucky to know in such detail what my Grandad was seeing, feeling and participating in in 1932 and will do for the rest of my life. I am reminded (to paraphrase the methodist book of prayer) that he once dwelt on earth, confined by time and space. And had faith in every time and place. And as a child, grandad worshiped at the top of a tower of a blasted tower on Ascension Day in 1932.

The above is the original script I wrote for the episode. It may differ from what ended up in audio due to time constraints.

The post Ascension Day 1932 | 2020 appeared first on thejaymo.net.

May 2, 2020

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Family 👪 | Permanently Moved 🔊 | The Chalk ♘

S03E17

A bit about my new show. Also: May Queens and Maypoles.

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Permanently moved is a personal podcast 301 seconds in length, written and recorded in one hour by @thejaymo

Website: https://thejaymo.net/
Podcast: http://permanentlymoved.online
Zine: http://startselectreset.com

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ALL HAIL THE MAY QUEEN!

The main thing I did yesterday was watch old British Pathe videos of coronations May Queens. There are a few videos of margates may queens being crowned. There is a video from Ramsgate 1937. A one Gwen Bourne. Nineteen years old being crowed at the bandstand up at the plains of waterloo. There’s loads of these videos. Most of them are silent. I’ll include a photo of my aunty carol being crowned may queen in the show notes.

 Tho there’s one from Elstow Bedfordshire from 1936 that has some commentary. 

Isn’t that wonderful? 1936. What do you think that line ‘What if the law did forbid the maypole? the only May politics worthwhile are the old english dances?” meant at the time to the people on the village green? The Long Parliament’s ordinance of 1644 described maypoles as “a Heathenish vanity, generally abused to superstition and wickedness.” 

 “The Two Babylons”, an anti-Catholic conspiracist pamphlet from 1853 Is a good read too.

Imagine what it means for a community to crown someone a queen. Even just for a day. The agency a community has over its own affairs. A coronation from Coronare ‘to crown, adorn with a garland’.
It is a shame that as the world has begun to turn around commercial rhythms and interpretations of the seasons that we don’t celebrate the outside more. Adorn one’s door or shop fronts with garlands, celebrating the season ahead. Is it smack of catholicism or something much older and more important?

I remember the first time I did a Maypole dance. I can’t remember if it was for a May celebration or for pentecost. And Did I learn the dance pattern at church or at school? I forget.

I do however remember my Nana who despite everything was always a farm girl at heart, and her elation as I told her i was going to be doing the dance, looking up at her from the floor of their backroom. “You hear that Laurie?” I can still hear her call that out now.

My memories of that dance are hazy. I don’t remember much, feelings more than memories. We were on kitties green just down from the church, the photo i mentioned is taken in the same place.

I remember the joy of skipping with a ribbon. The feeling as they tend round the pole that we were all in this together, as we continue the pattern will grow and it will bring us literally and perhaps figuratively together. Perhaps at some point when we can all dance and sing together again, there should be a ceremony. One that binds and shows that complicated connections we all share are part of a larger whole.

The above is the original script I wrote for the episode. It may differ from what ended up in audio due to time constraints.

The post ALL HAIL THE MAY QUEEN! | 2017 appeared first on thejaymo.net.

So. It’s Saturday 10 November, I’m just sat on a train on my back to the chalk for a night.

I’m going to the remembrance day service tomorrow to close out the book on my great grandfather (who you will remember) i went to his grave in Belgium earlier this year and made a little podcast about it.

Also this week I caught up with some friends who i haven’t seen in a while, and also with my brother who is about to start a grand year long adventure abroad. I’ll see him when leaves at Christmas, but in the mean time he’s all over the uk in Manchester, Edinburgh etc having a nice time.

Permanently Moved

Episode 29 – Remove Excess Salt

It’s just an angry rant about having an opinion on gammons. You don’t have to bother listening to this episode – I’m not pleased with it.

You can subscribe to Permanently Moved in itunes: permanentlymoved.online/itunes or search in all your favourite podcatchers.

Permanently moved is a personal podcast 301 seconds in length, written and recorded in one hour by @thejaymo

I really am not very happy with the podcast this week. Both with its content and execution. I didn’t have a hook or a topic when I started which hasn’t been the case since i started marking like 25 weeks ago – ish.

It is an interesting that this week I experienced the feeling of ‘knowing you can put something out and not like it at all’ but nevertheless you hit publish and it’s out there in the world.’

I actually feel really good about the fact i did that, even if the episode itself i think its meh. I’m going to be really focusing some reflection time in on this for the week.

Dipping the stacks

Meet the Plantfluencers – The New York Times

Nick Land’s Philosophy of Capital is Anti-Capitalist (3: Value Questions) – DI Research Zone 22

Steve Reich Talks About His First Orchestral Work in 30 Years – The New York Times

The Ministry

I watched this video by one of the elder statesman of the youtubes this week:

What he is describing in the episode is something I have actively been resisting for the last year or so. Turning my life in to a job, or perhaps turning my whole life into executing on a mission. I know i could do it and that scares me – a lot.

This isn’t about going freelance etc, it’s about turning my life into one long execution schedule. If i wanted to, I could flip the mind set switch and just do it i suppose. Combine everything i want to do with my life into one driven experience of my life, unfolding in the direction i want it to head in.

One of the reasons i have been nervous about this i think is because i have always kept work/job seperate from life/liberty. Being able to say ‘it’s just a job’ is something that has given me enormous amounts of consolation throughout my career. Taking this distinction away petrifies me.

On the other hand. One of the other mental hoops i like to jump myself though is im doing X in order to execute on Y. So X is obviously worth it. Running events, skill acquisition etc.

Time is running out on if i want keep work separate and go back to the ‘day job’ or embrace the mission and start a ‘job day’

Reading

I started reading Thin Air the new richard k morgan book but put it down again as the time isn’t right for me to read it yet i don’t think. Especially not during Nanowrimo where my head is full of other things.

I did however pre-order the new version of the Odyssey by Emily Wilson on Audible and that should auto download in the middle of next week. Im looking forward to listening to it tbh.

Music

I’ve been listening to the new album Traversa by Goetic. Goetic is a side project of Wiesenfeld from Baths (Rotosplasum which came out at the end of 2017 is probably coming close to album of the year 2018 for me). Anyway if you like upbeat ambient with lots of colour and texture, this might be an album for you.

Remember kids:

The post Excess Salt appeared first on thejaymo.net.

June 7, 2018

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Family 👪 | History 🏛️ | Permanently Moved 🔊

Catching up on the events of last week. Think I’m going to make a custom cover for every show moving forward too. 

1 Thessalonians 4 13:18

13 But I would not have you to be ignorant, brethren, concerning them which are asleep, that ye sorrow not, even as others which have no hope.
14 For if we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so them also which sleep in Jesus will God bring with him.
15 For this we say unto you by the word of the Lord, that we which are alive and remain unto the coming of the Lord shall not prevent them which are asleep.
16 For the Lord himself shall descend from heaven with a shout, with the voice of the archangel, and with the trump of God: and the dead in Christ shall rise first:
17 Then we which are alive and remain shall be caught up together with them in the clouds, to meet the Lord in the air: and so shall we ever be with the Lord.
18 Wherefore comfort one another with these words.

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Remembrance

On the night of May 30th–31st, 1918, the Royal Engineers 255 Tunneling Company had set up camp next to the Poperinge-to-Boeschepe train line when it was bombarded. There were 35 casualties.

My great-grandfather, Henry John Springett, was among them. He was 26.

He and 14 of his comrades are buried in Lijssenthoek Military Cemetery.

Last week, my family and I traveled to Lijssenthoek Cemetery and the town of Poperinge in Belgium to commemorate 100 years since his death.

Last Thursday, my mum, dad, little brother, and my uncle Michael traveled to Lijssenthoek Cemetery in Belgium. We woke up at dawn and drove from Thanet to Folkestone to take the Channel Tunnel over to Calais and then continued on to Belgium. There were five of us in the car—my brother, my uncle Michael, and myself in the back. My brother was in the middle, and he just about survived the journey.

It was an extremely hot and humid day. Storms were due right at the time we were expected to arrive at the cemetery. On the way, we stopped at an extremely fancy chocolate shop and bought a couple of boxes. My parents, who visit Belgium once a year for the Christmas market, managed to get their sixth stamp on their customer loyalty card—so they’ll be using that for this year’s Christmas market.

When we arrived at the cemetery, we went straight to the visitor center rather than the cemetery itself. As we walked through the doors, there he was—on the TV screen.

It’s absolutely surreal to walk into a building in a different country and see a member of your family on a screen, on the TV—especially when they look like you, your brother, your dad, and your grandad. And further to that, none of the people listed ever knew or met him.

We had always thought that Great Uncle Owen was born in 1914—a four-year gap between him and my grandad. But last week, we learned he was actually born in 1913. There’s nothing quite like a 100-year-old clerical error.

It also may explain Great Uncle Owen’s “big smoky bonfire,” as the family refers to it—the time when he burned a lot of family documents.

Because Henry John was listed on the TV screen, we were able to print out the details of his grave’s location. So we did, and then we headed into the cemetery.

I don’t know if you’ve ever been to a war grave cemetery, but the sight of row upon row of white headstones is remarkable. Lijssenthoek is relatively small compared to some of the others, but it still took us a while to find his gravestone.

28F, 10A.

And there it was—relatively unadorned, with some roses growing in front of it.

548425, Corporal Henry John Springett, Royal Engineers, 31st of May, 1918, age 26.

A cross was engraved beneath his name.

My mum placed a ceramic poppy in front of it, among the roses. My dad had brought Henry John’s pocket watch—the one he was given as a wedding present. He had it restored. He kept it in his pocket the whole time and only showed me later, as we were walking away from the grave.

My Uncle Michael said a few words, and I read 1 Thessalonians 4:13–18. I read it from my Great Uncle Owen’s King James Bible. It had once belonged to his mother—Henry John’s wife, Lily.

At some point, Owen had written in the front: “This was my dear mother’s book.”

It was given to her in 1907, and then to him in 1925. Both entries shared the same address—Soul Street, St. Peter’s—the house where my grandad grew up.

After we finished paying our respects, we walked through the cemetery to find the infographic fence that runs the entire length of the grounds.

While we were there, we met a Dutch and a French family who were signing the visitor’s book. They had also printed off Henry John’s details and were on their way to find his grave just as we were leaving.

My brother, who is fluent in French, spoke to them about what we were doing. We also discussed the military hospital and various other things while we were there.

Then we got back to the car, and as we drove away from the cemetery toward Poperinge to get some lunch, the heavens absolutely opened.

It was a strange and emotional day, but I really enjoyed being with my family.

Permanently Moved

Permanently Moved (dot) Online is a quarterly audio personal podcast, written, recorded and edited by by @thejaymo

The post Remembrance | 1809 appeared first on thejaymo.net.

Narrative

Yup. I went away for a week.

5* Hotel in Croatia. We were half board so 5 round breakfasts and 5 round dinners occurred. Plus, even hotel prices the cocktails were cheaper than London so we didnt think there was anything wrong at drinking a mojito at 10am. Plus it was hot.. very hot.

I didn’t make a podcast that week or this week. Even tho I said I was going to try, and I did try, but a bad workman blames his tools and I am a bad workman.

I got back on Tuesday and then went to Kent and then Belgium the next morning.

It was the 100th aniversaray of my great grandads death. The whole family went out to Lijssenthoek military cemetery and paid our respects. The podcast this week will probably be on the trip.

Permanently Moved

Permanently Late, amirite?

Dipping the stacks

I have so many keywords blocked at this point that i think i’m missing whole swathes of news. My rss reader is far more interesting.

The Ministry

TBD

Reading

I re-read two solarpunk anthologies whilst i was away. I also finished re-reading The Red Goddess. Im currently reading The Songlines by Bruce Chatwin

loving it so far.

Music

new #ye obviosuly

Remember Kids:

The post Back appeared first on thejaymo.net.