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Some very sad news to share with you - our beautiful and wonderful Ruth Jemmett, who contributed monthly to Worcester Park Life for many, many years, passed away at the end of March. We send our love to John, and the rest of her family and many friends.
Here is her submission from April 2015.... |
Huntigowk And April Noddy Day
Ruth Jemmett Looks At The Month Of Tomfoolery
Did you manage to get through the morning of 1st April without being ‘had’ by a joke or a prank? Do you sometimes wonder where this odd custom comes from? It apparently originated in the mid-17th Century, and is not peculiar to England. In Scotland the day has sometimes been known as Huntigowk Day or April Noddy Day - the word ‘noddy’ meaning fool. Of course being made a fool of is not confined to 1st April. As the writer Mark Twain once cynically observed - “The first of April is the day we remember what we are the OTHER 364 days of the year!”.
The word ‘April’ is thought to have been derived from the Latin “aperire”, with reference to the opening of a bud, but some scholars dispute this, and think that the word comes from the name of the goddess Aphrodite. Whatever its origin, most of us associate it with tomfoolery - and Easter. This year Easter falls quite early in the month, on 5th April. If the weather forecasters are right, it will prove to be a good day for social gatherings (not to mention horticultural chores) in the gardens of Worcester Park. However, judging by forecasts from years gone by, it might be desirable to have a snow shovel parked somewhere near the barbecue! In one of my old ‘photo albums I have a snap of the lawn of one of my previous homes smothered in snow in April! It’s no wonder that English people are famous for having a stiff upper lip - it’s the effect the icicles have on us!
This will be a month of Royal celebration, as Her Majesty The Queen will be celebrating her 89th birthday on 2lst . Those who fear ageing are certainly given hope as they witness Her Majesty and Prince Philip carrying out royal duties at a time in their lives when they could easily opt for putting their feet up! This month we also have the delight of greeting a sibling for young Prince George.
For the past few weeks I have been vastly entertained by the vision of countless would-be athletes pounding the tarmac of Salisbury Road, as they prepare for The London Marathon that takes place on 26th April. All shapes, sizes, and ages of people have been jogging and panting their way past my front gate. The sight of them brings back painful memories of my days at St. Andrew’s Convent in Leatherhead when I was a girl. The nuns who taught us thought that cross country running would do us some good. How wrong they were! We absolutely loathed it, almost as much as we hated what we had to wear. We would alarm the population for miles around as we sweated and groaned our way along the Leatherhead By-Pass, wearing ungainly white T-Shirts which were paired with unflattering greyknee-length shorts. We were mortified as passing lorry drivers whistled at us. On one occasion my particular group actually managed to get lost in some woods, and eventually found an isolated cottage where the owner luckily had a telephone. We rang the convent, and had to explain why we would be an hour late for lunch! Running, as a way of keeping fit, somehow lost its appeal for me at that point in my life! I still do my bit to keep fit though, and am the owner of some weights and a hula hoop. Endless hours of gardening also help to keep me in shape. I recently bought my husband a static exercise bike in an attempt to keep him fit. As he usually only breaks out in a sweat if the central heating is turned up too high - or if he hears that his favourite football team, Plymouth Argyle, have lost a game, I thought the bike might encourage him to be a bit more healthy. So far I have seen him on the bike twice, despite the fact that I have placed it strategically in front of the television. I don’t have great hopes for him, as after he had ridden the bike for the first time he scoffed down an entire box of chocolates! He tells me that he can cycle for ten minutes without getting puffed. Yeah - and I’m the Queen of Sheba ….!
Since you and I last met I have been venturing into my garden a bit more. It has been very cheering to see the snowdrops, and I noticed a Greater Spotted Woodpecker on my bird-table a couple of weeks ago. As some of you might know, this area used to be part of Henry VIII’s hunting ground, and we are blessed to be surrounded by beautiful majestic trees. Hopefully we will enjoy them for a long time to come, because some of them are being lopped down by enthusiastic amateur loggers, who don’t always check with the local council to see if they have preservation orders on them, thus spoiling the view for other residents. The trees attract wonderful birdlife. The R.S.P.B. recently conducted a census to see how many different species of birds could be seen in suburban gardens in a half hour slot. Our own garden totalled eight - and that was on a grey cold day. How lucky we are to see so many species literally by our back doors - even if we DO have a constant battle with squirrels, to stop them from stealing the food we put out for our feathered friends! Sadly (despite my rantings about amateur loggers!) I recently had to say goodbye to a lovely feature in my back garden - namely a silver birch tree. Its extensive roots were destroying paving, and it was also growing perilously close to my beloved fish pond. (No - it didn’t have a preservation order on it, as I had planted it myself twelve years ago). On a positive note, it now means that the tree’s leaves will no longer fall in the pond in the autumn!
We will, of course, be celebrating St George’s Day on 23rd April, despite his origins having very little to do with our country. Legend has it that he lived in the 12th Century, and slayed a dragon in order to save the life of a princess. You have to admitm that it sounds pretty impressive, as most men can hardly be bothered to open a door for a woman these days, let alone confront a fire-breathing monster! On the whole, the story doesn’t stand up to much scrutiny. Let’s face it. How many dragons do you see waddling down Worcester Park High Street? Most academics believe that the legend is probably a heartening myth that was told to simple peasants throughout the ages, in order to teach them about the triumph of good over evil.
Talking of princesses, I have been investigating my family history, and was recently delighted to learn that I am descended from Robert The Bruce, King of Scotland. I am just off to polish my tiara, and practise a Highland Fling! As regular readers will know, I play several musical instruments. Perhaps now is the time to invest in some bagpipes. Perhaps my neighbours won’t share my enthusiasm!
Enjoy the daffodils while they last. It’s only a couple of months before we have mid-summer’s day!
Ruth Jemmett is a Member of The Society of Authors
Ruth Jemmett Looks At The Month Of Tomfoolery
Did you manage to get through the morning of 1st April without being ‘had’ by a joke or a prank? Do you sometimes wonder where this odd custom comes from? It apparently originated in the mid-17th Century, and is not peculiar to England. In Scotland the day has sometimes been known as Huntigowk Day or April Noddy Day - the word ‘noddy’ meaning fool. Of course being made a fool of is not confined to 1st April. As the writer Mark Twain once cynically observed - “The first of April is the day we remember what we are the OTHER 364 days of the year!”.
The word ‘April’ is thought to have been derived from the Latin “aperire”, with reference to the opening of a bud, but some scholars dispute this, and think that the word comes from the name of the goddess Aphrodite. Whatever its origin, most of us associate it with tomfoolery - and Easter. This year Easter falls quite early in the month, on 5th April. If the weather forecasters are right, it will prove to be a good day for social gatherings (not to mention horticultural chores) in the gardens of Worcester Park. However, judging by forecasts from years gone by, it might be desirable to have a snow shovel parked somewhere near the barbecue! In one of my old ‘photo albums I have a snap of the lawn of one of my previous homes smothered in snow in April! It’s no wonder that English people are famous for having a stiff upper lip - it’s the effect the icicles have on us!
This will be a month of Royal celebration, as Her Majesty The Queen will be celebrating her 89th birthday on 2lst . Those who fear ageing are certainly given hope as they witness Her Majesty and Prince Philip carrying out royal duties at a time in their lives when they could easily opt for putting their feet up! This month we also have the delight of greeting a sibling for young Prince George.
For the past few weeks I have been vastly entertained by the vision of countless would-be athletes pounding the tarmac of Salisbury Road, as they prepare for The London Marathon that takes place on 26th April. All shapes, sizes, and ages of people have been jogging and panting their way past my front gate. The sight of them brings back painful memories of my days at St. Andrew’s Convent in Leatherhead when I was a girl. The nuns who taught us thought that cross country running would do us some good. How wrong they were! We absolutely loathed it, almost as much as we hated what we had to wear. We would alarm the population for miles around as we sweated and groaned our way along the Leatherhead By-Pass, wearing ungainly white T-Shirts which were paired with unflattering greyknee-length shorts. We were mortified as passing lorry drivers whistled at us. On one occasion my particular group actually managed to get lost in some woods, and eventually found an isolated cottage where the owner luckily had a telephone. We rang the convent, and had to explain why we would be an hour late for lunch! Running, as a way of keeping fit, somehow lost its appeal for me at that point in my life! I still do my bit to keep fit though, and am the owner of some weights and a hula hoop. Endless hours of gardening also help to keep me in shape. I recently bought my husband a static exercise bike in an attempt to keep him fit. As he usually only breaks out in a sweat if the central heating is turned up too high - or if he hears that his favourite football team, Plymouth Argyle, have lost a game, I thought the bike might encourage him to be a bit more healthy. So far I have seen him on the bike twice, despite the fact that I have placed it strategically in front of the television. I don’t have great hopes for him, as after he had ridden the bike for the first time he scoffed down an entire box of chocolates! He tells me that he can cycle for ten minutes without getting puffed. Yeah - and I’m the Queen of Sheba ….!
Since you and I last met I have been venturing into my garden a bit more. It has been very cheering to see the snowdrops, and I noticed a Greater Spotted Woodpecker on my bird-table a couple of weeks ago. As some of you might know, this area used to be part of Henry VIII’s hunting ground, and we are blessed to be surrounded by beautiful majestic trees. Hopefully we will enjoy them for a long time to come, because some of them are being lopped down by enthusiastic amateur loggers, who don’t always check with the local council to see if they have preservation orders on them, thus spoiling the view for other residents. The trees attract wonderful birdlife. The R.S.P.B. recently conducted a census to see how many different species of birds could be seen in suburban gardens in a half hour slot. Our own garden totalled eight - and that was on a grey cold day. How lucky we are to see so many species literally by our back doors - even if we DO have a constant battle with squirrels, to stop them from stealing the food we put out for our feathered friends! Sadly (despite my rantings about amateur loggers!) I recently had to say goodbye to a lovely feature in my back garden - namely a silver birch tree. Its extensive roots were destroying paving, and it was also growing perilously close to my beloved fish pond. (No - it didn’t have a preservation order on it, as I had planted it myself twelve years ago). On a positive note, it now means that the tree’s leaves will no longer fall in the pond in the autumn!
We will, of course, be celebrating St George’s Day on 23rd April, despite his origins having very little to do with our country. Legend has it that he lived in the 12th Century, and slayed a dragon in order to save the life of a princess. You have to admitm that it sounds pretty impressive, as most men can hardly be bothered to open a door for a woman these days, let alone confront a fire-breathing monster! On the whole, the story doesn’t stand up to much scrutiny. Let’s face it. How many dragons do you see waddling down Worcester Park High Street? Most academics believe that the legend is probably a heartening myth that was told to simple peasants throughout the ages, in order to teach them about the triumph of good over evil.
Talking of princesses, I have been investigating my family history, and was recently delighted to learn that I am descended from Robert The Bruce, King of Scotland. I am just off to polish my tiara, and practise a Highland Fling! As regular readers will know, I play several musical instruments. Perhaps now is the time to invest in some bagpipes. Perhaps my neighbours won’t share my enthusiasm!
Enjoy the daffodils while they last. It’s only a couple of months before we have mid-summer’s day!
Ruth Jemmett is a Member of The Society of Authors