I believe that Edith Wingfield Digby (1848-1935) of Coleshill, Sherborne Castle and Bournemouth gave birth to an illegitimate daughter in around 1875 who was my great grandmother Edith Maude Winnifrith, for reasons I partly explain HERE. I may be wrong, only a DNA test can resolve a mystery that has now haunted three generations once and for all. If you search google for pictures of Edith Wingfield Digby you will find an image of a stout old lady, the patron of several homes she founded in Dorset to care for fallen women. She had an interest in the subject. But there is just one I discovered of Edith as a younger lady which you can see below.The man who uploaded it is not responding to messages so I wonder does anyone out there know more about the picture below and if there are any others of this woman as a young lady or where the original can be found.
I have already apologised for, in 2019, supporting Ms Atherton, a careerist lady who deserves unemployment in four years time. I have asked her on twitter if she endorses what you can see below and natch’ she will not reply. Yet again we see Policemen ( or in this case women) drunk on emergency Covid lockdown powers and behaving in a way we thiught we would be never see in Britain. North Wales Police you are a disgrace.
Some folks accuse me of being a pirate. Au contraire I am quite the law abiding citzen these days except when it comes to daft covid lockdown rules. But there is a pirate at the Welsh Hovel on the banks of the River Dee, one who – like all good pirates – wears Paw Patrol socks and a dinosaur top.
As you can see below, the work that started yesterday is done, the ghastly asbestos shed is no more. You now have a clear view all the way up the vegetable garden, what was the jungle, with this horror removed.
Do not tell Quincey, the larger and lazier of our two cats, who should be lying on the baby mat. When not sleeping in the baby chair, he has a new place to catch forty winks as you can see below. As for baby Jayarani: well that is not HIS problem is it?
The workers arrived at 7 and the skip shortly afterwards with the first project the removal of the asbestos shed at the bottom of the vegetable garden, the area formerly known as the jungle. Notwithstanding my work into the early hours on family papers, I’d set an alarm and was there at the outset to make coffee for all.
The Mrs and the children are breaking lockdown rules with her parents and so left to my own devices I stayed up into the small hours combing the family papers picked up from my late father’s house last week. It was a night of shocks and revelation and having discussed the matter with my father’s sister L, I wonder what I should reveal. Perhaps all.
And now from Wales, by just 30 yards, it is my new weekly video show. This costs 99p per episode, and you can either listen to, or watch, some sparky interviews with Kerim Sener of Ariana Resources (AAU), where I am a loyal shareholder, and then with the sorcerer’s apprentice Steve Moore on the markets and on what he owns. You can access the show HERE
I have had Covid so everything tells me that I am already as immune as someone who has had the jab. I believe that jabbing me is therefore utterly pointless. But I can see that if I want to make it to Greece this summer, I will almost certainly need a Covid passport so on that basis I jumped at the chance to get the jab. The NHS showed its usual efficiency by contacting me five times by mail, text (twice) and email about the whole matter.
Enough is enough. It is time to clear this place of asbestos. I have got a quote and a reputable firm and this weekend it is, nearly, all going. The red-flagged sites are below.
The NHS, the envy of the world please do not mention Mid Staffs, is – as we are always told – underfunded and staffed by heroes. But as I have noted before, it does employ some folk to tweet the most almighty piffle out into the wider world. Today, the envy of the world addresses the BIG issue we all grapple with: misgendering. I present the tweet below, with no need for additional comment.
Among those things I collected from the house of my late father in Shipston yesterday were some ancient photo albums and several boxes of family papers and documents. I have started reading but these things almost make me tearful.
In case you missed it, this is the promo for Harry & Meghan’s new podcast. So much piffle crammed into just two minutes and it is all about how THEY are going to make the world better. One wonders what folks like Phil the Greek thought when they heard this? As a committed Republican, I do wish these ghastly folk would come back to Britain as soon as possible.
Nobody knows how they will react to death or to the possibility that a loved one is slipping away – I did not cry at the funeral of my father or as I sat by his bed as he died. I had shed a few tears a few days earlier as I sat in his room with him, lying there in a sleep which could only end one way. I cried buckets at the funeral of my grandmother and also when my cat Kitosh died suddenly. At the funeral of Uncle Chris Booker I think I had a moist eye, nothing more. Does that mean I loved my cat more than my father? Of course not. Grief and knowing you may be close to losing someone hits us in different ways and it is, or should be, a private matter. That brings us to, arguably, the most poisonous woman in Britain today.
Merseyside police do not have any useful work to do. After all, there were only 49,414 violent crimes in the Merseyside area in 2020. That is 135 a day. So with nothing better to do, I bring you a picture of four cops from the supposedly cash-strapped Merseyside Force “in action” outside an Asda in Liverpool yesterday. They are, of course, breaking the law.