• Home
  • About
  • Contact
  • Paintings
  • Perfect Little Gentleman Films
  • Photos
  • Blog
  • Home
  • About
  • Contact
  • Paintings
  • Perfect Little Gentleman Films
  • Photos
  • Blog
  Philip Martin Summers

the good, the glad and the snuggly

In the town where I was born

31/5/2016

1 Comment

 
​Spent a really great day in Settle, or what was left accessible. The market square was filled with V.I.P. Areas and winners roast rums and to outside broadcast vans... All in aid of the first stage of this year's Tour De Yorkshire.
First off, after a pleasant walk in from the campsite at Langcliffe, was our usual cup of coffee at 'Car and Kitchen', somewhere we've been going to since our honeymoon. Then on to Preston's Folly where, alongside their fixed exhibits of North Craven life, was a special display from the members of 'Back in Settle', an informal local history/memories group. We had wonderful conversations about Nuttal's and 'Tommy Preston' etc.. I was invited to join the FB group where they have 1,000's of photographs and comments. Someone said there'd seen one of my Grandpa and maybe Uncle Norman. I shall post what we have at home once we get back. Hopefully it's a connection we can keep up.
After lunch at Poppies and a quick diversion through a long remembered Ginnel to avoid the crowds, we took up a place at the barriers across from Settle Social Club by the old Police Station. We were just a hundred meters from the finish line outside Ye Olde Naked Man. The crowds quickly grew and with thunderous thumping of the advertising hoardings so did the excitement. A flurry of bikes and a flash of colour and it was all over.
1 Comment

Trouble at ' Mill

31/5/2016

0 Comments

 
We packed up the van and set off. On our way out of Sedburgh we spent the morning at Farfield Mill. This Craft Center and local historical sight would be very similar to the Mills many of my ancestors worked in (without the craft and the coffee shop). We were thrilled to find a giant photo of the workers from 1909 with a list of names. One woman was just called 'Dinsdale' and seated at the front was Billy Dinsdale. We checked the dates and how old these people looked and wondered if this was my Great, great uncle and his sister. After a while we worked out that an older man named 'Unknown' may well be my Great, Great Grandfather Nathan Dinsdale. We took photos of the big picture and will be able to check against photos we have at home. All very exciting.

N.B. having got home and checked the man is indeed Nathan form the picture we have of his Golden Wedding celebration taken ten years later in 1919.

But not quite as exciting as popping into the grounds of the Methodist Chapel at Frostrow just the other side of Hallbank. There we found the graves of Nathan and many other direct family members all of which were deeply committed to the building and ongoing mission of this local Methodist Church. Jo was delighted and quite moved having studied these names for the past few years.
As we set of the rain turned to sleet and then as we turned from Hawes to head across Blea Moor it became snow and out on the whitening moor we wondered if we had made the right decision heading across Ribblehead. All was well as we dropped off the tops to the more shelters and slightly warmer Ribblesdale. Mind you we did our bit as just before we got to Ribblehead we saw two snow clad walkers stood by the side of the road with a look of weariness and frustration. They were very glad off the lift and we were able to carry them the last mile to the pub.
Campsite in Langcliffe is big. And the showers rooms are warm, plentiful and free. All set up as the snows came again...
Picture
Picture
Picture
Picture
0 Comments

Way behind

31/5/2016

0 Comments

 
So this blog idea is not as easy as it first seems. Getting around to actually posting anything is difficult when there has been so much going on. As the TV programmes all seem to do nowadays, here's what's coming up: more family history from up north, some painting and praying, a golfing retreat and an exhibition in Gloucester...
0 Comments

More Northern than Grit

11/5/2016

2 Comments

 

After a couple of days exploring my family heritage in Cumbria I have discovered that my forebears worked in a textile mill, went to bed four hours after they had to get up again, lived in a small hamlet on a freezing hillside, ate gravel, founded and built a Methodist Chapel. I realise, on my mother's side at least I'm more Northern than I had previously understood.

We set off walking into Sedburgh, first having to walk away up the dale to reach a footbridge across the river to pick up the footpath back in. A lovely walk even if it did start with sleet and snow. About three and a half miles in all, after which we fell into a bookshop to grab a cup of coffee. 

Off into Sedbergh. We went and had a brief look along Main Street (where my Grandmother was born) and made our way to the parish church. Here it was that my Grandma (Eleanor Hall Dinsdale) and Grandpa (Thomas Preston) got married. I have a photo of them standing outside the church entrance on their wedding day so Jo took one of me standing in the same place. Lovely church inside, very warm and welcoming. I can see how it would have been a bit upmarket for a simple Settle Methodist like my Grandpa not to mention being a little too 'high' for Grandma's own Dinsdale family who were Methodist through and through.


Picture
Grandma and Grandpa are the couple on the right
​
Picture
Picture
Picture
Main Street, Sedbergh
Picture
Picture
Sedbergh Parish Church

Off to the pub

​After the church it was across the road to the Red Lion for lunch. I've often stopped whilst driving past on journey's through Sedbergh to glance at this pub. Here it was that Eleanor Dinsdale (Grandma) grew up. Pretty much being adopted by the Hall's who ran the then 'Hotel'. Here she became Eleanor Hall Dinsdale. It was great to go inside especially since it was still very basic, no corporate redevelopment. Maybe a new bar, maybe not; certainly many coats of paint over the years but here was the low ceiling and rustic rafters under which my Grandma would have grown. On the wall were many old photos, the usual local views but one from 1910 had a picture of the Red Lion with the name of W.Hall above the door, amazing.

After lunch we went down to the cemetery but had little luck in finding names we recognised, although there seemed to be many cousins. A cup of tea later we made the track home for evening prayer and an early night.

2 Comments
    Picture

    Phil

    Artist.
    Storyteller.  
    Writer.
    Filmmaker.
    Companion.

    Archives

    August 2018
    May 2018
    April 2018
    October 2017
    September 2017
    April 2017
    August 2016
    June 2016
    May 2016
    April 2016
    March 2016
    January 2016
    December 2015
    November 2015
    June 2015

    Categories

    All

    RSS Feed

Proudly powered by Weebly