Posts Tagged ‘Beamish’

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~ This is a re-post; the only photo I have which has something to do with the Sepia Saturday prompt this week.~


Meet Chester.  He lives in Beamish.  I didn’t know his name, didn’t know if he had a name.  The moment he came near enough to be touched I decided he wouldn’t be ‘A Horse with No Name,’  that horse created in Dorset, so I named him myself.

Chester is a heart stealer.  This moment will breathe eternally fresh in my stock of beautiful emotions.  I held out my palm.  He checked what’s in it: mint candies, and he didn’t hesitate to lick them off as if chiding, “what took you so long to give me my treat?”  I forgot the shivering complaint of my south-east Asian blood against the cold of North England.

I told Chester to leave some for me.  He kept on eating til my hand was empty.  I giggled and he understood I had more.  It only took a second for him to realize where were the rest.  He licked my purse too!  The force of his tongue gave me a gentle push. His intelligence sealed my admiration for him.  That’s when I patted his head.  We exchanged the same unspoken message of thanks.  His grateful eyes melted my dancing heart.


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Chemistry class



The Iron Lady’s husband was once asked, ‘who wears the pants in this house?’

Mr Thatcher replied, ‘I do. And I iron them too.’

Whether I could tell Le Boyfriend that anecdote or not, I remembered it as I watched Margaret Thatcher’s funeral on youtube last week.  He is not a fan of the late premier but I kind of teased him anyway when news of her passing came off the media – that they share one thing in common and that is their education in Chemistry.


I do not know how I passed Chemistry in school. Some of us in class would tell each other a joke about a test item in which the teacher would holler, ‘write the chemical symbol for water.’  John asks a seatmate for the answer, and the seatmate whispers: “H2O.”  John then writes “H, I, J, K, L, M, N, O.”

We used that humor to temper the difficulty we faced every week. All those symbols to memorize. The correct quantity of poisonous liquids mixed in a way that will not kill you in case you were forced to drink it.  A .0001 error and you’re comatose. The teacher wanted us to learn accuracy. We just wanted to survive the class and get on with our lives.

Twenty-years later I visited this schoolroom in Beamish, sat by that wooden lectern but kept my distance from the flasks and bottles. Every minute staring out the glass window and reminiscing high school Chemistry was perfect fun. That’s because I knew I was there to observe history in an English classroom, and not to be grilled in atoms, behavior of matter, energy, or what have you….

Thank goodness there was no Chemistry test that day.

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Wiki gives a quick definition: ” Geordie is both a regional nickname for a person from the larger Tyneside region of North East England, and the name of the English-language dialect spoken by its inhabitants.”

“Alreet lads an lasses… a Geordie, says the English to Geordie Translator, is in essence “them canny fowk from the North East of England sometimes wrongly but understandably mistaken for Scots or Irish to the [unaquainted].”

I didn’t even know what to mistake them for. All I knew was we were about to explore a coal mine. Our guide was giving us  background information of the underground.  Are we going to crawl on dirt? I was excitedly curious.

As I listened, my eyebrows started meeting up in the middle like a confused maya. A friend smiled teasingly, “you thought you’re still watching BBC huh?” She adjusted her mine cap, “he’s speaking Geordie.”

A new dialect to listen to! I then braced myself for the afternoon when I would have to approach someone for tea or I starve. Fortunately I didn’t. It was a beautiful day of touring Beamish.

ABC Wednesday

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Fence around the Colliery Village inside Beamish

ABC Wednesday

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Purse in Beamish

Note: This is an imported post, featuring a purse tag; the purse I used while touring Beamish.

It’s a lazy Thursday here. So this tag from Jona came just on the right day. So … what is this this time?… another amusing tag. Purse. It does sound familiar to a girl *tongue clicking*. Ok, before I blab on, rules first:

1. Post a picture of whatever bag you are carrying as of late. No, you can’t go into your closet and pull out your favorite purse! We want to know what you carried today or the last time you left the house.

2. List how much it cost. And this is not to judge. This is for entertainment purposes only. So spill it. And if there is a story to go along with how you obtained it, we’d love to hear it.

3. Tag some chicks. And link back to this post so people know why the heck you’re showing everyone your bag.

So there it is — my faithful, old purse resting beside my red coat. I cropped off my face. I know it’s the purse you want to see, but that’s 3/4 of my frame and my hands cold-gripping the railing of the entrance stairs to Beamish. As the size suggests, my coin purse can’t even fit in there. It holds only a few tiny, girly things but my passport and bank cards have a cozy place in its exterior pocket.

I bought it in 2006 (long time ago huh) when I traveled to the UK, but I’m still using it today. Observant neighbors would probably think I have no other purse because I use it a great deal, now and then, and almost everywhere. The last time I slung it on my shoulder was when I bought drinks at a nearby supermarket.

It matches with many of my shoes so it’s been used to battered status. Price? The originator of this tag must be cheeky 🙂 Alright it costs 3,000 baht; approximately 4,000 pesos based on xe.com conversion. I never really got to remembering its brand. In other words, it’s no Prada nor Gucci nor Miranda Priestly-knows-what-else. All I know is it’s leather and has never given me any grief yet since I purchased it.

Now where are the other chicks? Genebei and Arlene you two are next 🙂 Come out girls!

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