QUEEN VICTORIA'S CHILDHOOD MEMORY

 by: MisS VictoriA DaviD

My mind has been filled with memories from the past

and thoughts in the now.

What a delicate dreg contrast!

From time to time, I could lucidly feel how protective my father was

and how loving my mother was to me, too.

Then, the mirror image of dwelling into the past flared in a leap.

I love being intimately transported to how facile

and breezy it was to be a child once again.

Don’t you think for one second?

My toys were my greatest possessions and I shared them with my friends.

When they weren’t in used, my prudent parents gathered

and kept all of them with no muttering under their breath.

It was their way of retaining my toys from the predatory eyes

and wayward hands of my childhood friends.

The unvarnished truth about being my childhood is,
that it was very carefree and delightful.

You don't have the duty on your shoulder or responsibility for others

and even taking good care of yourself is left in the hands of parents.

What a threshold for children to play!

If and when memory lane ingratiates into my mind,

it usually brings forth seventh-heaven and joyfulness.

Either picturing-out with my newfangled toys (solely playing)

or reminiscing the never-ending laughter with my friends.

Those were hilarity flashes in me
that added euphoria to the healthy hearts of my parents.

The rivet core of my childhood memory resides forever

deep in my heart and soul.

When revives, it can breath a trajectory of new life

but delving excessively can rhapsody lead to

a series of adverse comparisons; unhappiness and pain.

Childhood memory lane is a penetrating quagmire.

It separates yourself from the even-handed paths of reality

and draws you closer and abut into the spectra of fantasy.

Truth be told but I dearly love how insouciant and unsullied

being a child who is free from woes was.

On the other hand, the wishful fantasy of manipulating back the

“tick tock”clock is a chagrin diversion

which will separate you from appreciating more

the eyrie of beauty and security
of the life you have in the now! 

THE UNHERALDED FOGGY DAY TO CANTERBURY

 by: MisS VictoriA DaviD

The sky was clear and the sun was shining bright which revived the wilted grasses and became green once again. In the car, we were full of joy and happiness and from the window, handsome trees on the verges of the road resembled robust twigs. Their leaves disappeared but underneath their bald features was healthy living trees. Gradually, the clear blue sky was replaced by developing misty clouds and by heavy fog. On the way to our destination, thick lying clouds covered the road and everything visible became challenging to our naked eyes. We drove very slowly and then, I felt we were driving through an eerie ghost town. What a creepy experience and shuddersome imagination of mine! 

When we were in the heart of the Cathedral city, Canterbury, the challenging cottony cloud increasingly became clearer and thinner. We followed the street signs but our noviceness around the city directed us to inaccurate routes. We laughed and drove back until we found our way going on to their High Street via Rose Lane and Parade.

I was very excited to know more of Canterbury because tourists had various views about their one day escapade. Driving for hours in this chilly weather will make you weary and also, you would long for a hot drink. That is why, we picked the first restaurant we found and had our chosen brunch meal with hot drinks. We sat and stretched our legs after that foggy journey.

There were cobblestone alleys with local and known corporate retail stores. We walked on Burgate which guided us to locate the Entrance to Canterbury Cathedral's Precincts. A regal designed arched doorway built in 1517 with a sturdy ornate bronze sculpture of Jesus Christ which I read was a replacement as the original was damaged; 12 beautiful figures of angels and delicately restored carved miniature castle banners/flags. Apart from the precincts' well-preserved beauty, an elevated 20-foot tall stone monument cast with crucifix on the very top, valour dignitaries and banners was erected outside and enclosed by a metal fence. These were the extravaganzas of the Cathedral located on Sun Street, Strada and infront of the Mercery Lane. 

( Entrance to Canterbury Cathedral's Precincts)

(20-foot tall Stone Monument)

 

I wasn't able to explore the inside of Canterbury Cathedral as to see its historical and majestic beauty wasn't free. They posted a notice and read as “The Cathedral Precincts' Entrance Charges” which ranges from £8.00 to £32.00. I was down in the mouth for a little while but noted that the pretty penny charges has been keeping the Cathedral in pristine condition. On the other hand, you can still enter for free if your main reason for visiting the Cathedral is to pray solemnly. 

The disappointment soon vaporised and was replaced with excitement as we ventured around the rest of the alleys. It reminded me of York but the thought of comparison wasn't a great idea at all. For me, Canterbury as a Cathedral city offered frustrating and shocking revelations as it offered less breathtaking buildings and wasn't so awe-inspiring. Yes, they have the Cathedral which was barricaded with charges before you could see its illustrious majestic beauty. There are also cobblestone roads which reminded me of strong horses pulling and carrying carriages in the earlier periods. On the contrary, their elongated high street starting from Fenwick Building on St. George's Street up to Heraldic arched passageway of Westgate Towers was occupied mostly by the uniformity of known corporate high street brands. It was akin to the bustling Oxford Street in Central London.

(Heraldic Arched Passageway of Westgate Towers)

  

Yes, the letdown feeling vanished for awhile but it transpired when I couldn't find more awe-inspiring and wondrous gems in every alley we traversed through. In my own opinion, the city upholds and shelters nothing apart from their famous Cathedral, Royal Museum and Free Library.

Generally speaking, there is nothing bad about corporate retail store brands who have been injecting money into the council's pot and the city itself. They bring-in people and attract consumers which make a high street/ town centre livelier and more buoyant. Sad but true, known brands have been successful in the trading business as more and more people are getting conscious about the labels over quality. Isn't it preferably right? 

I didn't dream of shattering my day nor would kept on sulking while wandering around the city because of frustrations. That is why, I looked for something delightful and uplifting to make most of my day worthwhile. I found an admirably handsome tree just next to a brick & flintstones- wall which was over towering with branches like a witches' broom or an octopus' tentacles. There was also the Beaney House of Art and Knowledge known as the central museum, library and art gallery of the city. A listed building designed by the architect and City surveyor A.H. Campbel in 1897 and was opened to the public on the 11th of September 1898. What I liked more about it was the welcomingly unpretentious Tudor revival facade. Yes, the Cathedral city has free gems after all which were erected on the verges of their high street. 

(Admirably Handsome Tree)

(Beaney House of Art and Knowledge)

 

We sat in a cafe after hours of exploring and relaxed with hot drinks on our table. We were on the first floor of the cafe's building which had narrow windows for us to see the outside aerial view of the city. It was heartwarming on such a cold misty day to see loving families together and jovial students enjoying the company of their closest friends.

I haven't explored everything in Canterbury especially the world renowned Cathedral (maybe I will go to pray!). I am sure that there are lots of gems waiting for me. That is why, I will venture further next time especially when the sun is shining; when the twiddling humming bees are basking around and the colourful flowers in fully bloom.

TOTTING WITH MY SISTERS

by: MisS VictoriA DaviD

I don’t usually go out with people unless they have gained my trust or when I feel safe being with them. So, when I say 'sister' like I do with Tina and Jence, it's a sign that I am welcoming you into my life and valuing you more rather than just an ordinary acquaintance.

Last Sunday (January 08, 2012) when Tina and I were both free from our responsibilities, we went to an ethnically mixed district in South London, Tooting. Prior to Tooting, we strolled round Sutton High Street and warmed ourselves with a cup of luscious cappuccino in a local Italian cafe.

We visited the High Street not just for the foaming coffee; we were there mainly to meet Maria Fe. A jolly and light spirited woman whom I encountered and chatted with last year at Tina's birthday party. Our meeting was filled with silly jokes which we really all enjoyed up to the max. I have to say that it was very pleasant being with her again.

(Tina, Vicky and Jence)

I really thought that we would just meet Maria Fe and leave here somewhere in Sutton. But I'm happy to say, she traveled with us to Totting as our sister Jence was working there, even on Sunday. We walked further down the high street until we reached Sutton Green (A) bus station where we got the Bus 280 that took us to Tooting. And after about 40 minutes on a double decker bus, we arrived at Fountain Road. Our destination was Kusinang Munti which was only 3 blocks away. Before we filled our hungry stomachs at Kusinang Munti, we visited our sister Jence at her workplace which is close by. She supervises a Filipino Sari Sari Store. So, the sisters were reunited again after our last escapade on December 08, 2011. Jence was a bit surprise when she saw us but she still welcomed us with her bright smile. That is what I like about Jence, her smile was genuine! As she hasn't encountered Maria Fe before, naturally we introduced them to one another. And while they were all chatting, I checked the commodities in the shop and was very surprised to see that their goods as well as the prices were similar to those at Wing Yip, a Chinese supermarket in Croydon.

(Maria Fe, Vicky and Tina)

*Click photos to enlarge

THE MAYFIELD LAVENDER

by:  MisS VictoriA DaviD

 

Gardens are an area where we grow and nurture varieties of plants; flowering and fruit-bearing. Most of the houses in England have their own front and rear garden, usually, the owners grow flowers in front of the house and at the back is the fruit-bearing and vegetable area .

Lavender is one of the 39 species of flowering plants in the mint family. The scent gives fresh fragrance and deters moths. The plant produces flowers which are collected to form a kind of confetti for the bride's special day.
 

Mayfield Lavender is located on the Surrey Downs, at the junction between Croydon Lane and Carshalton Road. This field is less than 15 miles from Central London. It measures 25 acres and is the home of the English Lavender. It is often confused with a small allotment project locally and is often referred as Carshalton Lavender, Mitcham Lavender or Surrey Lavender as it is located in the heart where lavender was grown in the 18th and 19th century.

The 25 acre Lavender field is own by a passionate couple, Brendan and Lorna. The couple's commitment not to use pesticides or herbicides on the plants make it a good source of some of the finest oil. And, nothing but organic matter is used in the field!
 

The fragrant flowers are not just for vases that are placed in the living room, as it is has a few functions too. Its flower has a fresh and relaxing flavour when added to drinking tea. The oil extracted from its buds is an ingredient in many perfumes, balms and cosmetic applications. And, it is also used in making facial and bath soaps that are ideal fragrant gift for your loved-ones or as a keepsake for your friends and visitors. Some people place the soap in their undies draw!

The lavender plant is abundant in the United Kingdom. It grows in April or May as it needs dry and sunny conditions to thrive and produce its fragrant flowers. When it produces flowers, it is a sure sign that summer is underway, and the cold days of Christmas are memories' best forgotten.