a river running through it

Cassiobury Park -'a nobleman's residence in a magnificently timbered park'

It's four months now since I started my new career as a community ranger for Watford Borough Council. And what fun its been. I joined at a very exciting time, as the Council are in the round 2 stage of a £6.5m Heritage Lottery Funding bid to restore and improve Watford's premier green space, Cassiobury Park - and according to a survey, the nations third favourite park.

 Cassiobury Park- '...a magnificently timbered park'

It is the perfect job for me - around and about meeting so many different groups of people, volunteers, consultants, the visiting public, different user groups, visiting schools and much more.
I'm very often travelling down to London (only 15 minutes by train) for meetings and and lately on a round of visiting some of London's most prestigious urban parks. One the attractions for me of being a ranger is the sheer variety of the job and this particular role doesn't dissappoint! One minute, I'm organising a huge Fun day event, the next training up some volunteers to giving talks and presentations on the marvellous heritage of the park and arranging consultation events with various stakeholders and user groups.

 

a landmark of the park - the Cedar tree

Being a people's park, the area covers 190 acres of Green Flag parkland, including Whippendell Woods, a SSSI site which is awash in bluebells at the moment. It has the Grand Union canal running through it as well as the river Gade, and has something for everyone. There is a 1930 retro style Tea Pavillion, tennis courts, croquet and bowls clubs, football and cricket pitches, play areas, and paddling pools which families come from miles around so the kids can splash around. The park hosts a large nature reserve and wetland habitats with a multitude of wildlife.

the chain saw sculptor just a bit too noisy for this particular visitor - Fun Day at Cassiobury Park

Cassiobury Park has a great heritage - hence the Lottery Funding bid. Cassiobury House and the Earls who lived there were the toast of the counties and had many famous visitors, including the painter, JMW Turner, who painted various images of the park. The landscape designer, Humphrey Repton and Hugh May were also involved in creating the park. But the major designer who laid out the intial park and gardens was Moses Cook.

The park used to host some historic buildings. Cassiobury House, sadly demolished in 1927, alongside many other iconic buildings over the decades, was the residence of five of the twelve Earls of Essex with the 11th Earl, now a childless, retired teacher, living in a bungalow in Lancaster. The next Earl in waiting, an American grocer living in USA, will take his seat eventually but only genetically linked by being the great, great, great, great grandson of the childless 5th Earl's half brother's eldest son! A USA tv show recently brought the family over to Watford.

I certainly enjoy giving the heritage talks, with tales of the  beheading of the first two Earls and mysterious deaths in the Tower of London and with horseriding, headless ghosts of those Earls, who can be seen riding through the park on certain days of the year! (I'm going to have great fun scaring the kids on Halloween activities in the park!- tee hee!)

Rob Hopkins - Herts and Middx Wildlife Officer leading a guided wildlife walk in the park

When my father died back in March I thought it was the worst time to start a new job. In fact it was the best time. Although my boss was great about me taking time off so soon after starting to attend and organise the memorial, it has been a carthartic process for me and helped me get through by keeping my mind on a fabulous, exciting and varied job. Its still hard to go back to the family home as it seems very strange not seeing my father there anymore but I have some fantastic warm memories and they are always the ones I think of more than the sadness of his passing.

 

 Cassiobury Park

Of course living in Watford I'm now so close to London and I'm now a member of my all time favorite haunt, Ronnie Scotts Jazz club in Soho. Its so near its like living in London again. But I have the best of both worlds, a huge park and woodland space you can get lost in and which is only minutes from Watford's town centre, to being just a quick train ride away from the centre of the capital.

I've also been to see Saracens, the premier rugby team, play at their new ground in Mill Hill and shall being going more often next season, taking and wearing my Dad's rugby shirt that he always used to wear when watching the rugby on tv. But its great as a few of my colleagues at work like rugby (not to mention being passionate about Watford football club - the Hornets).

Cassio's wildlife

 

Other good news is my German friends that I met in Italy on my recent cycle ride, Hedi and Franz are coming over in October to visit me for a week. Well, Franz isn't coming this time but Hedi and her daughter Sabine are. I had a great time in Bavaria when I visited them last year, so I hope they like dear old Watford as much! I expect we will spend some time in London but we have got the Warner Bros Harry Potter studio tour here in Watford!

 

 



and a resident Heron !

 

Mum with our great friends and neighbours, Val and Pete in the park while on a recent visit

to Watford

an air ambulance lands in Cassiobury Park - no emergency though - just a PR visit

 

the air ambulance attracts the crowds in the park

 

 



when I grow up I want to be a.............

 

crowds looking in...

 

Harry Potter studio tour at Warner Bros studios in Watford.

 

 

a dog enjoying the River Gade in Cassiobury Park

 

the rustic bridge and the canal bridge in Cassiobury Park

 

So -  much to look forward to.

 

more tales and photos next time 

 

Deborah

 

(c) copyright: all photos and text are copyright of Deborah Anne Brady 

 

 

 

 

For everything there is a season

My father's memorial took place last Thursday in All Saints Church Drinkstone in Suffolk.

His humble beginnings started with his parents, Elsie and James, who ran their own fish and chip shop in Bristol and where at 16yrs old, Dad left home to join the Navy as an apprentice. He had ambitions to further himself and so, after a day's work, he studied hard every night to get his officer's exams. He went on to become a  L. Commander and captained his own ship.

Similarly, when he left the Navy to join civvy street, he went to nightschool most nights and studied hard to get qualifications, while still keeping his family housed and fed, and eventually entered BAE Systems as an overseas operations manager, the job taking him (and Mum) to far flung places, such as Indonesia.

So it was fitting that the memorial took place in the village church just down the road from the cottage they loved and had happily lived in for the past twenty two years. The little church was packed with local villagers, friends, family and neighbours who had come to pay their respects.

It was a beautiful, modest ceremony, heartfelt and sincere, with just the right amount of pathos and humour - just as my Dad would have liked it. (overloaded sentiment and fussing wasn't his style). There were wonderful tributes from family and friends coupled with moving poems and readings. The best tribute that I can give is to rewrite, verbatim, my spoken eulogy to the congregation in church that day, followed by some more precious pictures of him in his later years.  

               Dad seeing me off in London at the beginning of my world cycle ride.

My eulogy: March 26th, All Saints Church, Drinkstone Green, Suffolk

''We are here today to celebrate my father's life, but it's impossible to talk about him without including my mother - such was the unit that they were. My Dad loved all his family more than we could possibly know but he was devoted to my mother. They were inseparable.

And this was bourne out by a story he once told me when, as a young naval officer and after months of separation from each other, he turned down a commission and retired from Navy life so he could be with Mum. And apart from the inevitable hospital visits later in life, he proudly once told me;

'Since then, your mother and I have never spent a night apart'

And similarly, my mother was devoted to my father. During his illness and especially so in the last weeks and days of his life, she never left his side. She was, I know, a great comfort to him during this time.

Dad was kind, patient and gentle - a true gentle man. Never one to brag about his achievements, never quick to temper; just a raised eyebrow and a certain look on his face, was all the signal I needed when I knew I had stepped out of line.

He was large (well he was married to the best cook in the world) and he certainly loved his food. In hospital his vital signs registered  - 'twix' !
He was large and loveable and had a sharp wit and intelligence.

And he certainly knew how to handle me. On many occasions when I used to get myself all tied up in knots over a particular problem, he would never tell me what to do. He would just simply, almost nonchalantly, tell me a totally unconnected anecdote about something or other and hey presto! there was my problem solved. I, of course, thinking I had solved the problem myself.  He was a clever man!

But for all his quiet and gentle manner and great sense of humour, he also had a stubborn streak. Mmmm! there is a certain genetic link here!

But it's his sense of humour that I loved about him. As all of you here know, he loved telling a joke or two and I know all of you here have at one time or other had experience of patiently listening to some of them.

Usually for the family, these would inevitably come out around the dinner table and needless to say we were spared our blushes with some ripe navy and rugby ones that were circulating, that we never got to hear. After all , for all his gentleness, he was still very much a man's man! But I remember this manly pride was once seriously dented when on a family sailing trip in the Solent.

Mum and I along with hundreds of others were sitting on the beach watching Dad and Martin launch the little Firefly dinghy out into the Solent's choppy waters, only to watch in horror as the boat gradually began to sink lower and lower into the water.
Thankfully, they made it safely back to shore, exhausted from frantically bailing out as they drifted back in. But his embarrassment was complete.  After all, it's not good when an ex naval officer forgets to plug the drainage holes in the back of the boat before setting sail!....thank God he wasn't a sub-mariner !!!

But I loved Dad's sense of humour. I always shared moments of great laughter with him as he watched his favourite tv comedy sketches, such as the Morcambe and Wise Christmas Shows.. and who can forget  Shirley Bassey singing in a hob nail boot or Eric Morecombe slapping the most famous conductor in the world, Andre Previn (or is that Preview!) around the face.

But his absolute favourite comedy sketch of all time was when the comedian, Rob Brydon, a Welsh rugby fanatic, is shown at the birth of his first child. He stands at the business end and when the baby is delivered into his hands, and he is cooing with wonder and delight over this new born, the nurse comes in and he says, 'ok, over to you nurse' and throws the baby across the room like a rugby ball -
....not realising that the mother and baby were still attached by the umbilical cord!.

My Dad's all time favourite comedy sketch and I can still remember him chuckling about it in his last days.

It wasn't easy seeing my father as he was in the last few months of his life, but one of the most abiding warm memories I have, is of us as a family, with a friend and neighbour present, all sitting around drinking beers, watching the rugby on tv and with Kim, the dog, lying at the foot of his bed. That will be one of the great, warm memories I shall take with me of his final days with us.

When I was told of Dad's terminal heart failure, I hoped above hope, that he would reach certain milestones. He did:

He managed to join us for Christmas dinner, albeit for only half an hour and he didn't eat much but he got there.

He reached his 80th birthday in January (somehow, 79 just seems too young)
And he got to see Martin and Colette start up their own successful business in Devon and me back in a settled and satisfying career again.

But.. most importantly of all, .. he got to see England beat France in the rugby Six Nations.!!

Unfortunately he slept through most of it, but I remember that even with his eyes closed, that satisfied smile on his face when we told him they'd won.

Unfortunately he didn't quite make it to see them in the last match, probably just as well as  we got trounced but having played rugby for England as a schoolboy, it was fitting that his last rugby memory was of an England win.

The family always came first for Dad and he loved us all dearly but he was always concerned for Mum. I know Martin told him at his bedside that we would look after her but I tell you this again , now, Dad;
'I promise you that all the family, friends and neighbours will look after Mum in the years ahead. Behind the grief she is strong and will get stronger as times goes by. But we will always be here for her'

And on behalf of the family, I'd like to thank all those involved in his care while he was at home; the doctors, nurses, his wonderful carers, Devida and Louise, our brilliant neighbours - you were all beyond brilliant! and for whom nothing was too much trouble. And for all of those of you here, who even just rang to ask how Mum and Dad were, we thank you, that was a great comfort to both of them.

And also to Reverend Ruth, who was also a huge comfort to them and for her help in putting this service together.

My Dad was just simply a wonderful father, husband and a gentle man.

He will be in my heart forever''.

            Mum, my brother Martin and Dad on the beach in Sardinia

                             inseparable

 Dad with his beloved Bella - the predessor to the dog they have now, their equally beloved Kim

                           Dad with his first great grandchild, Joe Brady

One of the last pictures of Dad and Mum with his last surviving sister, Kath,
(now deceased) in Bristol. He was the only boy in a family of seven step sisters.
His dad married again and hence Dad was born. Three of his step sisters died at an early age of diphtheria but his remaining four sisters doted on their step sibling.

     Dad checking his camera settings at my round the world cycle send off in London in May 2011

        My brother Martin and Dad doing a lean-to - mucking about as usual.

    Martin, Colette and Dad in Sardinia where my brother and his wife lived for four years. 

           Martin, a friend and Dad scrumming down. Sardinia.

     at the helm again

Dad's Memorial Service in All Saints Church, Drinkstone 

          photo by Colette Brady

 

pictures courtesy of Martin  Colette and Mike Brady(c)

text and photos copyright Deborah Anne Brady: all rights reserved March 2013

 

In Memory of My Father

A dedication...
Sadly, on March 1st 2013, my father died at home, aged 80yrs.

Michael John Brady    26th January 1933 - 1st March 2013

 

 He was a remarkable man who lived life to the full and enriched the lives of so many he met

 

The best way I can think of remembering him is by sharing some fond memories through what has been a shared interest between us and and an interest that became  my life long passion - photography. So I would like to dedicate this post to my father with photographs of his life. 

It is impossible to talk about my father without including my mother. As well as being a wonderful dad, my father was a wonderful husband and my parents were devoted to each other and I think this shows in the following pictures.

I have taken many photos of my parents but this is one of my favourites - even if it is a bit Charles and Diana!



 

My father was a quiet, kind, gentle man with a great sense of humour and both my parents conducted their lives with huge dignity...

 

 

  



and they loved dressing up! - on a holiday in USA

 

in fits of giggles when I took this, my favourite photo- was it something I said?   ('sausages', I think.)

 

When I heard that he only had a few months to live, I hoped beyond hope that he would reach certain milestones before he died. He did:

• He had Christmas dinner with us - he only managed half an hour at the table and didn't eat much- but he made it.
• He reached his 80th birthday in January. (somehow, 79 sounds too young).
• He saw my brother Martin and his wife, Colette, start their own successful business in Devon and he saw me settled again in a satisfying and rewarding career.(tell you about that later). 
• But most important of all - most importantly, he saw England beat France in the rugby Six Nations!  He didn't quite make it to hope for an England Gram Slam but beating France was just as good!





so proud of my Dad - his Cap - he played rugby for England in his schooldays 

 

He was also a Navy officer in his younger days and spent months at sea away from my mother. He was so devoted to her that he eventually gave up the life he loved so that they wouldn't have to spend any more time apart. In later years, apart from the inevitable hospital visits, he once proudly told me; 'Since then I've never once spent a night away from your mother'.

                                                 a handsome Navel Officer

 

Inseparable -a trip to USA - travelling was a major part of their

lives in their later years.

 



my father also took a keen interest in photography. It was seeing him with an ancient Pentax SLR when I was about 10 years old, that sparked my life long passion for photography.

 

                                                  autumn years of their lives.

 

My Dad was a quiet, gentle, kind and very intelligent man. He would be very generous too with his time. He spent time helping neighbours children with their homework and gave a lot of his time as secretary for the local British Legion.

 

We are having a memorial service in the village church at the end of March and we have approximately 100 friends, neighbours and family coming along,some travelling long distances. That, I think, is a testament to what people think of him. He simply, was just a wonderful man.   He'll be in my heart forever. 

 

Post Script: Best Laid Plans an' all that - again!

At the same time as we heard of my Dad's terminal heart failure, I secured a fabulous new job. I decided after a year of teaching English that at this point in my life, going abroad wasn't right for me for a while. Therefore I went back to my previous career in countryside work and found the perfect job.

 

Now, as a community ranger,I am living in Watford (I know it's not the most glamorous post code but not all that glisters is gold - there is nothing wrong with Watford!) and I'm loving every moment of it. I have a good salary, work with funny, friendly people, in an incredibly interesting and rewarding job - the best yet! I'm just so glad my father lived long enough to see me secure a wonderful life style.

 

But I haven't forgotten the cycling! I am keen as ever to keep travelling and will go and finish my cycle journey one day- when the time is right.

 

Working where I do in a 190 acre park with ancient woodlands, canals, rivers and abundance of wildlife, there are plenty of more places to explore and many new photographic opportunities. Watch this space!

 

Deborah

 

(c)copyright March 2013.  All rights reserved. all photographs and text are copyright of Deborah Anne Brady March 2013

Encounters of the language kind

Sometimes you have to take one step back to take two forward. I've shelved my plans to travel this winter to concentrate on getting even more experience teaching English to foreign students.

                      harvest time in Suffolk

After passing my CELTA certificate in Feburary, I have been teaching foreign teenagers at a local language school, here in Suffolk,  and have now been given the opportunity to extend my experience. I've secured a contract until Christmas to teach adults, in both general English and IELTS, (basic exam strategy in the four skills of listening, speaking, reading and writing).

                      harvest time in the Suffolk dust bowl.

So for now, my travel plans have been put on hold. My dreams are still to carry on with my world cycle trip (part two), but I have decided that the all round experience and opportunity of teaching both teenagers and adults that I'm doing now, will stand me in good stead for the future.

Experience is the key and after what will be a year of teaching in the 'safety' of my home town, I can learn my trade before launching myself on the world's language learners. This experience will help put me in a far better position when I start my travels again.

                      Suffolk harvest

Much of my time  now is spent teaching but I still get time to catch up with my friends. I recently met up for a regular girls' lunch with my old CELTA college friends in Norwich. Needless to say, too much wine was consumed -mainly by me - (I was travelling by train) but we chatted away as usual not realising (and certainly not for the first time!) that time had moved on and it was late in the afternoon before we finished. Oh well, that's girls who lunch for you!

              scenes of Suffolk

I've been working very hard at my teaching in this past year,   especially at making a fool of myself. I can tell you now, it's very hard work being an alien! Even the adults get subjected to my madness when I teach, but they take it well, they just roll their eyes and chalk it up to the unlucky fact they've been put in a classroom with a mad woman!  



 Suffolk cottage





But being an alien does have its uses. It's a great way to revise vocabulary with students and gives them something to laugh about as well. But just in case your're wondering, being an alien involves drawing a 'stick' alien on the whiteboard, and then standing in front of the students with my fingers pointing up from my ears and waggling them about like antennae. (well I did warn you!) The idea behind it, - is that an alien can't understand any English, so every time a student says a word or phrase, they have to explain their definition and then explain their second, third, fourth and (if they get that far) fifth definitions and so on.  Works a treat!

                     Suffolk thatched cottage window

All these 'out of world' encounters means that I'm due a break. (not a moment too soon my students would say!) - so in November,I'm off to Rugby to catch up with friends there. Then hopefully a trip to Bristol.

                   farm machinery in the fields

So with scissors in hand and trawling through the newspapers and magazines looking for suitable pictures and texts for my next lessons, I will carry on learning teaching, and leave you with my photo topic this month, scenes of Suffolk.

(If you want to see the photographs on full screen without the text - just click on each picture).

         recently harvested sugar beet

                               a walk in the Suffolk countryside

 an ancient baler

               Suffolk fields and paths

                               a thatched Suffolk cottage

              and for something completely different - a recent student trip to London

Deborah

(c) copyright: all text and photographs in paintsandpedalsworldbybike.com are copyright to Deborah Anne Brady: 2012