My little video clip that Andrew and I made in the Isle of Sheppey just as we were wrapping up our ancestral search. I didn't have a script or time to rehearse, but I did ask him to have a second take.
Friday, March 27, 2009
Thursday, March 26, 2009
A Wild Night Out In Sheerness
I preface by saying what a wonderful trip it was out to the Isle of Sheppey, what a great thrill it was to delve family roots and search for evidence of the Tucker clan in this corner of the globe. I would recommend our bed-and-breakfast to anyone visiting Sheerness. The only problem is . . . there's really not a whole lot out in Sheerness to go and see. At least there wasn't at this time of year. I imagine that the beach is a popular distination for the residents of the county of Kent in the summertime, but in the pseudo-spring it's a bit too chill to be a real thrill.
Nevertheless, Brianne and I had the will and the drive to give Sheerness a chance for an evening on the town. After our immense trudge all the way the hill to Minster and all the way back down to our digs in Halfway, we rested our weary bones at the B&B before deciding that what we really wanted to do was head back into Sheerness -- which we assumed was the city centre hub of activity because of all it's shops and attractions, whereas Halfway was essentially just an intersection -- and find a decent restaurant to sit down in and then go BOWLING! There's an arcade complex next to the beach which was advertised in it's windows as open from "10 'til close," and we thought a couple frames of bowling would be the perfect essoteric activity for our weekend.
We managed to find out when the bus left the Halfway intersection for Sheerness centre and hopped on, getting in to Sheerness just about dusk. From wandering about the now nearly deserted main streets we discovered two things: 1) The bowling alley was already CLOSED, apparently since about 5pm (on a SATURDAY?!) because it didn't have any official bookings.
2) There is a dearth of sit-down restaurants in town; everything is take-away, and we didn't want that. I guess either no one can afford rent on a space for seats, or they all try to take advantage of beach-going tourists who want to take kebabs and tandoori back to the surf.
So we were stymied. The reasons for coming into town had evaporated. The night was not without it's own "diversion," though. We witnessed a rather harrowing domestic disturbance -- a guy and girl having an absolute bloody-murder screaming fit punctuated with the guy grabbing the girl and shoving her into walls along the street. We were shocked, but continued to observe them from a safe distance after a local shopkeeper had alerted the police, just in case anything really bad went down. We lost sight of them after a time and decided it was time to get out of there. Managed to find out from a bas driver that there were no more buses heading back our way! This was actually just funny to us at this point, and we laughed at the fact that we just had to walk about 30 minutes to get back to Halfway after all of this. On the way out of Sheerness, we just happened to pass the police station -- out in front of which were the fight couple having a tearful make-up session in the presence of a cop! Un-frickin'-believable.
After this whole adventure, we discovered that Halfway seemed to be "The Place" for a sit-down meal, as the Chinese restaurant on the corner was a hive of activity. We had a great meal, picked up night-cap from the corner store, and flopped on the bed back at the B&B to watch the movie The Fifth Element until our eyes wouldn't stay open anymore.
All in all, a grand excursion. I can't wait for our next trip out, which will take us to Leeds Castle this Saturday. We're going with out Aussie flatmate Matt, and I hope it will be fun, despite the fact that the weather reports are a bit foreboding.
Nevertheless, Brianne and I had the will and the drive to give Sheerness a chance for an evening on the town. After our immense trudge all the way the hill to Minster and all the way back down to our digs in Halfway, we rested our weary bones at the B&B before deciding that what we really wanted to do was head back into Sheerness -- which we assumed was the city centre hub of activity because of all it's shops and attractions, whereas Halfway was essentially just an intersection -- and find a decent restaurant to sit down in and then go BOWLING! There's an arcade complex next to the beach which was advertised in it's windows as open from "10 'til close," and we thought a couple frames of bowling would be the perfect essoteric activity for our weekend.
We managed to find out when the bus left the Halfway intersection for Sheerness centre and hopped on, getting in to Sheerness just about dusk. From wandering about the now nearly deserted main streets we discovered two things: 1) The bowling alley was already CLOSED, apparently since about 5pm (on a SATURDAY?!) because it didn't have any official bookings.
2) There is a dearth of sit-down restaurants in town; everything is take-away, and we didn't want that. I guess either no one can afford rent on a space for seats, or they all try to take advantage of beach-going tourists who want to take kebabs and tandoori back to the surf.
So we were stymied. The reasons for coming into town had evaporated. The night was not without it's own "diversion," though. We witnessed a rather harrowing domestic disturbance -- a guy and girl having an absolute bloody-murder screaming fit punctuated with the guy grabbing the girl and shoving her into walls along the street. We were shocked, but continued to observe them from a safe distance after a local shopkeeper had alerted the police, just in case anything really bad went down. We lost sight of them after a time and decided it was time to get out of there. Managed to find out from a bas driver that there were no more buses heading back our way! This was actually just funny to us at this point, and we laughed at the fact that we just had to walk about 30 minutes to get back to Halfway after all of this. On the way out of Sheerness, we just happened to pass the police station -- out in front of which were the fight couple having a tearful make-up session in the presence of a cop! Un-frickin'-believable.
After this whole adventure, we discovered that Halfway seemed to be "The Place" for a sit-down meal, as the Chinese restaurant on the corner was a hive of activity. We had a great meal, picked up night-cap from the corner store, and flopped on the bed back at the B&B to watch the movie The Fifth Element until our eyes wouldn't stay open anymore.
All in all, a grand excursion. I can't wait for our next trip out, which will take us to Leeds Castle this Saturday. We're going with out Aussie flatmate Matt, and I hope it will be fun, despite the fact that the weather reports are a bit foreboding.
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Chasing Roots
It’s a magical journey in the simplest of ways to return to a place that you have never been – but where your family once lived. Especially when that place is a town on a different continent and the family that lived there goes back almost 150 years. Yes, I suppose there are a great deal of families that can trace their heritage much further back in time, but for us Canadians going back that far can prove difficult. And so our journey began leaving for Kent on a gloomy Saturday morning from the big bustle that is Victoria station in London. I doubt my ancestors ever had to put up with such noise and populace. It was an hour and a half long journey to get to our connection to get out to the Isle of Sheppey. The journey takes you through the countryside and has a quick stop in Rochester (right in view of the lovely castle in the town centre). Then there is a quick transfer of trains – from ours that had 8 carriages at least to a much smaller and less luxurious one that had 2. The Isle of Sheppey is surrounded by water but it looks to be not much wider than the Ottawa River. Indeed, the Thames at times seems choppier than the waters that connect the Isle to the mainland. Hop off at the final stop and you are in the town of Sheerness, with only a five minute walk to the coastline of the sea. Beautiful. By this time the sun had decided to peer its head out and decided it might have a day out and about. We took a taxi to our Bed and Breakfast which was located at an intersection called Halfway House. My guess is that this intersection was called such as it is almost exactly halfway between the town of Sheerness and that of Minster. It was also a five minute walk away from the cemetery where we had found the names of Francis and Elisabeth Tucker listed. (Yeah for the internet!) Nice clean Bed and Breakfasts always make a difference – and ours was especially nice and appreciated. Almost immediately we set down our bags and made our way to the cemetery. After speaking with one of the men that tends the property, we realised that we only needed to search one section of the cemetery as it was all relatively chronological in its arrangement. The cemetery had opened in 1850 and Francis had passed away in 1871 – that was only 20 years of ground to cover as apposed to the entire place. Andrew and I decided to start at the beginning, splitting ourselves to search a different side of the path. I would be on the right with Andrew on the left, each of us meeting up after completing a section to compare notes. I noted that some plots that were side by side varied in dates from 1860 to 1950 – most likely the plot having been bought and paid for long before being filled. Most graves were marked by a standard headstone set upright and the area around it with a border of stone or marble. In some cases the names and dates were very clear to read which made my job very easy as I need only have a glance and then pass by them. Others had the names worn off in some areas from either weather or the mass amounts of ivy that was growing all over the place. In these cases I would have to balance myself around the headstone, trying not to topple anything to get a closer look at the names or dates, or if there was no headstone at all or it had been buried under earth or toppled or broken then I would have to get on my hands and knees and scrap away at the growth in the hopes of catching a glimpse of the name. The day had become sunny and I had already taken off my extra sweater, so I did not mind at all the idea of searching for ours in this quiet and beautiful cemetery, but after an hour my eyes were tired and needed a rest. So Andrew and I met up and grabbed some snacks to munch on the grass. We had covered about a quarter of the section that we had set out to look over. Certain names we had seen copious amounts of: Boyds, Woods, Tayler.
After a little break we split up again and the search continued. At about forty minutes into it I was under a tree, yanking at some ivy vines that were covering a rather large headstone. A little bird of some variety must have been nesting there because as I pulled the vines apart it fly out at me from the underbush and scared the living daylights out of me. I screamed. And probably swore as well. I am not used to things flying out at me from the ground in a graveyard. At the same time my phone began to ring. It was Andrew on the other side of the graveyard – he had found them. I ran over and he asked if I had been screaming because my phone was ringing – I explained that it was pure coincidence that the two events had happened on top of the other.
This entire time we had thought we would be lucky if there was even a headstone to mark the resting place of my ancestors – boy were we in for a surprise. There, in amongst the simple headstones was the final resting place of Francis, Elizabeth and Charles Tucker. Rather than me describing it I have included a picture of it below. The one on the left with the iron rail around it is the one for Francis, Elisabeth and Charles. The one on the right with an obelisk is for Hannah, Edward and their son Frederick Tucker.
Across the path from them was another large marking – one for Hannah Tucker and her husband and their son. I have no idea of what relation they may have been, but considering the dates and the size of the two memorials, we think there must have been some sort of relation.
We cleaned off what we could and decided to return the following day with some flowers and something to make a rubbing with. For the afternoon we decided to travel up to Minster to see if the family home was still standing. It wasn’t, but the house that would have been their neighbours was still standing, so we took a picture of that instead. Heading to Minster was about 3 miles up hill (in both directions!) and held a great view of the where we had just come from but admittedly there was not much to the town. (A Chinese takeaway, a launderette and a post office.) So back down the hill we went.
I will stop here so that Andrew may have his say of what our adventures were that evening but I will sum up with the remainder of the following morning. We went to pick up flowers and some wax paper and crayons to make a rubbing, spent a bit of time tidying up as best we could around the memorials and took some pictures. We made the rubbing and then set out leisurely for home, having accomplished what we had set out to do. What a great feeling that is.
After a little break we split up again and the search continued. At about forty minutes into it I was under a tree, yanking at some ivy vines that were covering a rather large headstone. A little bird of some variety must have been nesting there because as I pulled the vines apart it fly out at me from the underbush and scared the living daylights out of me. I screamed. And probably swore as well. I am not used to things flying out at me from the ground in a graveyard. At the same time my phone began to ring. It was Andrew on the other side of the graveyard – he had found them. I ran over and he asked if I had been screaming because my phone was ringing – I explained that it was pure coincidence that the two events had happened on top of the other.
This entire time we had thought we would be lucky if there was even a headstone to mark the resting place of my ancestors – boy were we in for a surprise. There, in amongst the simple headstones was the final resting place of Francis, Elizabeth and Charles Tucker. Rather than me describing it I have included a picture of it below. The one on the left with the iron rail around it is the one for Francis, Elisabeth and Charles. The one on the right with an obelisk is for Hannah, Edward and their son Frederick Tucker.
Across the path from them was another large marking – one for Hannah Tucker and her husband and their son. I have no idea of what relation they may have been, but considering the dates and the size of the two memorials, we think there must have been some sort of relation.
We cleaned off what we could and decided to return the following day with some flowers and something to make a rubbing with. For the afternoon we decided to travel up to Minster to see if the family home was still standing. It wasn’t, but the house that would have been their neighbours was still standing, so we took a picture of that instead. Heading to Minster was about 3 miles up hill (in both directions!) and held a great view of the where we had just come from but admittedly there was not much to the town. (A Chinese takeaway, a launderette and a post office.) So back down the hill we went.
I will stop here so that Andrew may have his say of what our adventures were that evening but I will sum up with the remainder of the following morning. We went to pick up flowers and some wax paper and crayons to make a rubbing, spent a bit of time tidying up as best we could around the memorials and took some pictures. We made the rubbing and then set out leisurely for home, having accomplished what we had set out to do. What a great feeling that is.
Friday, February 20, 2009
Enlisting all Musical Help
Hello to everyone and yes, we have to apologise for not keeping up in the past two weeks with our blog. We were off to a really good start and now the amount of work coming up has driven me away from the internet. Please take it as a really good sign that in these times of "credit crunch" that Andrew and I are up to our eyeballs in work load. And we mean that.
The reason I am taking a minute to write to you all (especially considering it is a friday night and Andrew has a pizza cooking in the oven) is that I need some help.
My vocal teacher has asked me to be a part of his Showcase. This is a big deal for a number of reasons. One: My vocal teacher is rather big in town and for that reason I am honoured that he thinks me worthy of performing in a Showcase and Two: A Showcase is something that either big schools or professional teachers will put on and invite agents and casting directors to view their graduating class/students. Now, because my vocal teacher is so big this means that A LOT of really amazing agents and casting directors will be there. The catch: there is only enough time for me to sing two songs. Therefore they have to be really good.
Now, I am fine for the legit soprano piece, but I really, really need a pop or rock song as a lot of agents want to know that you can be versatile. (A.k.a one year you could play Mary Poppins and the next you could play in We Will Rock You or Mamma Mia! - it's all about trends...)
So, with the mass amounts of records and cd's that I know my family owns, if any of you come across one that you think would be great for me (hopefully in the next week as there are only 6 weeks until the Showcase) please let me know.
What I am looking for is something not too well known (i.e. not Don't Let the Sun Go Down on Me - everyone and their mother sings that one.) but preferably a quick tempo piece. (i.e. fast) I love old jazz numbers and stuff like "Midnight at the Oasis" and "I'm all out of love".
So please, Granddad and Charlene, Gram and Grandma, Mom and Dad, Aunt Jean Marc, Judy,David, Linda, Sandy, Ray, Colleen, Bob, Elaine, Curtis, Nathan, Alayna and Nick, Emily and Andrew, Rachael and Scott, Amanda, Britt, Ben, Barb and Bill and the Willicks and ANYONE else who reads this Blog - if you have any ideas for a pop or rock song that I could sing - no matter what year it was - send me a quick note or an email - call me at 2 a.m. I don't care...just HELP ME PLEASE!!!!
yours waiting ever so patiently...Brianne
The reason I am taking a minute to write to you all (especially considering it is a friday night and Andrew has a pizza cooking in the oven) is that I need some help.
My vocal teacher has asked me to be a part of his Showcase. This is a big deal for a number of reasons. One: My vocal teacher is rather big in town and for that reason I am honoured that he thinks me worthy of performing in a Showcase and Two: A Showcase is something that either big schools or professional teachers will put on and invite agents and casting directors to view their graduating class/students. Now, because my vocal teacher is so big this means that A LOT of really amazing agents and casting directors will be there. The catch: there is only enough time for me to sing two songs. Therefore they have to be really good.
Now, I am fine for the legit soprano piece, but I really, really need a pop or rock song as a lot of agents want to know that you can be versatile. (A.k.a one year you could play Mary Poppins and the next you could play in We Will Rock You or Mamma Mia! - it's all about trends...)
So, with the mass amounts of records and cd's that I know my family owns, if any of you come across one that you think would be great for me (hopefully in the next week as there are only 6 weeks until the Showcase) please let me know.
What I am looking for is something not too well known (i.e. not Don't Let the Sun Go Down on Me - everyone and their mother sings that one.) but preferably a quick tempo piece. (i.e. fast) I love old jazz numbers and stuff like "Midnight at the Oasis" and "I'm all out of love".
So please, Granddad and Charlene, Gram and Grandma, Mom and Dad, Aunt Jean Marc, Judy,David, Linda, Sandy, Ray, Colleen, Bob, Elaine, Curtis, Nathan, Alayna and Nick, Emily and Andrew, Rachael and Scott, Amanda, Britt, Ben, Barb and Bill and the Willicks and ANYONE else who reads this Blog - if you have any ideas for a pop or rock song that I could sing - no matter what year it was - send me a quick note or an email - call me at 2 a.m. I don't care...just HELP ME PLEASE!!!!
yours waiting ever so patiently...Brianne
Friday, February 6, 2009
Return of the Random Thoughts
Once again I subject our loyal readers to the disconnected musings of my well-meaning but increasingly enfeebled brain!
The morning commute can help you discover the oddest paradoxes. The other day I found myself wedged between two tube riders, one of which stank of foul body odor, the other who reeked of Ivory soap! I actually found Soap Man harder to deal with.
I've had the chance to ride several English trains into the areas surrounding London, and it's a great way to travel. They're all rather "light rail" in nature, something like the GO Trains of Toronto (without being double decker.) I wish against wish that Ottawa would remove it's major sensory organs from it's sphincter, realize that the dedicated bus lane along the 417 is a pointless joke, and put in a light rail. By the by, has the strike been settled YET?
Brianne and I have discovered a new favourite take-out restaurant called Nando's. It's a chicken joint specializing in Portuguese barbecue, and it's a rather popular chain in London. Brianne tried it whilst on her tour and got me addicted in short order. The Portuguese spice is called
Piri Piri and it is mind-blowing, so we tend to go for the milder version of Mango and Lime.
I've mentioned the snow here in London, but I have not mentioned the cold. Granted it is balmy here compared to the frigid conditions of home-sweet-home, but there's a subtle difference in the chill here. It's a moister cold here, so even if the temperature is relatively mild, the nip of the wind goes through to your bones. Thank goodness for our little block heater.
Parting shots: Odd little observational humour from the morning paper.
When people who manufacture drawing boards want to start over, what do they go back to?
If sign-makers are on strike, how do they display their discontent?
Striking two halves of a pistachio shell together gives the impression that a very small horse is approaching.
The morning commute can help you discover the oddest paradoxes. The other day I found myself wedged between two tube riders, one of which stank of foul body odor, the other who reeked of Ivory soap! I actually found Soap Man harder to deal with.
I've had the chance to ride several English trains into the areas surrounding London, and it's a great way to travel. They're all rather "light rail" in nature, something like the GO Trains of Toronto (without being double decker.) I wish against wish that Ottawa would remove it's major sensory organs from it's sphincter, realize that the dedicated bus lane along the 417 is a pointless joke, and put in a light rail. By the by, has the strike been settled YET?
Brianne and I have discovered a new favourite take-out restaurant called Nando's. It's a chicken joint specializing in Portuguese barbecue, and it's a rather popular chain in London. Brianne tried it whilst on her tour and got me addicted in short order. The Portuguese spice is called
Piri Piri and it is mind-blowing, so we tend to go for the milder version of Mango and Lime.
I've mentioned the snow here in London, but I have not mentioned the cold. Granted it is balmy here compared to the frigid conditions of home-sweet-home, but there's a subtle difference in the chill here. It's a moister cold here, so even if the temperature is relatively mild, the nip of the wind goes through to your bones. Thank goodness for our little block heater.
Parting shots: Odd little observational humour from the morning paper.
When people who manufacture drawing boards want to start over, what do they go back to?
If sign-makers are on strike, how do they display their discontent?
Striking two halves of a pistachio shell together gives the impression that a very small horse is approaching.
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
The Sky is Falling!
Run! Duck! Hide under your desk! For God's sake, shelter the children and hide your pet safely in a laundry hamper! London is engulfed in . . . 6 inches of the fluffiest snow imaginable and the apocalypse is apparently upon us. Honestly, the way this town loses it's mind over a little white stuff makes Toronto look like Yellowknife. Wow, how long has it been since I could make such a truly Canadian reference and know that my audience will know what I'm talking about?
The snow began on Sunday afternoon, when Brianne and I had been spending the entire day hanging out with her friend from the panto tour Clare and her boyfriend Jonathan. Lovely people, an actor couple like us, great pals to have. We've now got them hooked on a reality show that we like(d) called Murder in Small Town X. You may not remember it, it was only on for one season in the summer of 2001, but it was a great mix of reality contest and murder mystery, and we're watching it with them on YouTube. When we left their place that night, it was a fluffy marshmallow dusting all over the place, pretty and seemingly harmless.
The next day London was in the fetal position. Nearly all the tubes were down or severely delayed, every bus in town was cancelled - something that even The Blitz didn't achieve - and motorists were warned to stay off the roads if not absolutely necessary. I was one of only three people who made it to the office, other two being a hardy Aussie and a Frenchman with a skiing background. All manner of shops were closed, West End plays were called off for the night, two airports shut down, Heathrow cancelled dozens of flights, loss of business cost the city over a billion pounds . . . and I know all this because today's newspaper had about 10 pages dedicated to the devastation caused by 6 bloody inches of snow!
It was nice to notice some sense of humour about the whole affair yesterday. When I was waiting on the tube platform, an announcement came over the PA describing about 5 line closures and severe delays everywhere else. After a couple of seconds, the announcer piped up again and declared, "For once, ladies and gentlemen, this is NOT our fault!" Chuckling ensued amongst my fellow commuters.
The snow began on Sunday afternoon, when Brianne and I had been spending the entire day hanging out with her friend from the panto tour Clare and her boyfriend Jonathan. Lovely people, an actor couple like us, great pals to have. We've now got them hooked on a reality show that we like(d) called Murder in Small Town X. You may not remember it, it was only on for one season in the summer of 2001, but it was a great mix of reality contest and murder mystery, and we're watching it with them on YouTube. When we left their place that night, it was a fluffy marshmallow dusting all over the place, pretty and seemingly harmless.
The next day London was in the fetal position. Nearly all the tubes were down or severely delayed, every bus in town was cancelled - something that even The Blitz didn't achieve - and motorists were warned to stay off the roads if not absolutely necessary. I was one of only three people who made it to the office, other two being a hardy Aussie and a Frenchman with a skiing background. All manner of shops were closed, West End plays were called off for the night, two airports shut down, Heathrow cancelled dozens of flights, loss of business cost the city over a billion pounds . . . and I know all this because today's newspaper had about 10 pages dedicated to the devastation caused by 6 bloody inches of snow!
It was nice to notice some sense of humour about the whole affair yesterday. When I was waiting on the tube platform, an announcement came over the PA describing about 5 line closures and severe delays everywhere else. After a couple of seconds, the announcer piped up again and declared, "For once, ladies and gentlemen, this is NOT our fault!" Chuckling ensued amongst my fellow commuters.
Friday, January 30, 2009
Work and Play
I think I can conclusively say that, while I still tend to enjoy AYS catering jobs, the novelty has pretty much worn off. This past week I served a small dinner at Buckingham Palace attended by Princess Margaret, and I felt no real need to clamour over myself and report every minute detail to our adoring blog-reading public. Truth be told it was a complete breeze of a job, with much waiting around whilst the 40 guests finished eating each course. I did have the "privilege" of standing the in the vicinity of Her Royal Highness with a tray of drinks exclusively for her convenience and consumption. I hovered around her for 45 minutes, and she never touched a drop. Oh, the mad-cap adventures of serving royalty. The dinner took place in the Queen's Gallery of Buckingham Palace. While it was decked out in luxurious art and architecture, another symptom of too many high-society service gigs is that these timeless and ageless and priceless halls all seem to blend together in my mind, none of them standing out as they once might have done.
One great diversion from the stream of office and service work has been the opportunity to volunteer with Brianne's group of youngsters at the U-Film sessions. Two nights this week I have joined in with the group in their improv exercises and film-making tutorials. It's been great fun to "play" again, and gives me a deeper appreciation for the good work that B is involved with. The kids, while being identified by the local council as "at risk," are bright and responsive and relatively well-behaved. I feel that B's group is having a very positive impact upon the children. The experience has also reaffirmed my admiration for teaching profession, which is a form of performance art all it's own.
One great diversion from the stream of office and service work has been the opportunity to volunteer with Brianne's group of youngsters at the U-Film sessions. Two nights this week I have joined in with the group in their improv exercises and film-making tutorials. It's been great fun to "play" again, and gives me a deeper appreciation for the good work that B is involved with. The kids, while being identified by the local council as "at risk," are bright and responsive and relatively well-behaved. I feel that B's group is having a very positive impact upon the children. The experience has also reaffirmed my admiration for teaching profession, which is a form of performance art all it's own.
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