1989 The 50 yr. Headaches ........................................

What caused them? What flaw in my chemistry? I have no idea, but I had headaches from as early as I can remember.

I can remember my grandmother taking me out of a Tarzan film because my little head hurt. I can remember the damn things through school, through my Air Force time, at work, through my marriage.

Headaches you say; everyone has headaches. No doubt they do .... but not life-ruining things that occur twice a week or more and last for a whole day or more, today and, apparently forever more.

Each new doctor would listen patiently and ask me about smoking and cheese and chocolate and red wine and any other current headache-causing idea in vogue. I gave them all up in due course, seeking the cure, any cure. All to no avail. Asprin by the bottle and anything else that promised relief.

Darkened rooms, quietness, solitude, forehead against cold window panes, towel-draped head over steaming pans of water with assorted additives. None of it seemed to fix me. Only day's end seemed sometimes to bring relief, usually around supper time; the pain would lift and I could feel human again. Seldom (never?) did a work week or did a weekend pass without a day or two of it being ruined as I squinted and winced and hurt my way through the pain. I'd often drive to work with the heater full on in the heat of summer - breathing the hot air seemed to help.

Sympathy (somewhere between shit and syphillis in the dictionary)? .... Not a lot. Bosses of assorted stripe and workmates likely deemed headaches a "woman thing" and I just had to press on and function. Bright light, sudden movement, physical effort, loud noises all added to the misery. So I suffered, my wife suffered and my kids suffered with me, because of me.

Fifty years, give or take, of headaches. Weekends ruined, work made wickedly harder. They made a "bad-mood-guy" worse. I sometimes wonder how different my life and the lives of people around me would have been if ................................

Then, at about fifty it all stopped. Suddenly a week had passed and then a month and soon enough I couldn't remember when I'd last had a headache. Bliss and that scary, nagging worry that they'd come back. But they didn't come back. I'm a normal headacheless person now and have been for 17+ wonderful years. A headache now is a treatable, five times a year affair, two Advil or whatever and it goes.

Why did they stop? Maybe, just maybe, it was the start of taking pills for high blood pressure.

I curse the medical proffession for fixing it not, for not trying to fix me. Migraines maybe? But back then, migraines were just a woman thing as mentioned above ..... something that a man didn't have surely and if he did ....... how bad can a headache be for a real man?

Sorry people if I shouted and sulked and hid away. How I wish I could go back and be headacheless for all that half century. Maybe I'd have been better, done better, been kinder.

1959 - 1999 Cats We Have Known ...............................

1959 Persil. (there on the right with a 21 year-old blogger)
Well, Persil began it all by adopting Glennys and I at our first post-marriage dwelling at Quebec(!) Road in Norwich. Then an all black kitten, he was to stay with us until we went to Singapore. Norwich cats are reputed to grow large and I suppose Persil was a big cat. The name? Persil was/is a major, British washing detergent so it seemed (to me) a good name for a black cat.
When time came to head for Singapore, we prevailed on Mother-in-Law Rena to take care of him. So Persil became a Blackpool resident - for the rest of his long life.

1961-3 Onion. (on right being held by Mitch)
He was our first Singapore cat. A tabby and white cat if that's an adequate descrition. A mere stump of a tail. All Singapore cats seemed to have deformed tails. Said to derive from the fact that the Chinese think that only perfect beings are admitted to heaven. Believing that only cats and humans can be perfect they break cats' tails denying them perfection lest they deprive a human their place in heaven. Just a story I heard, but Singapore cats did all seem to have 'weird' tails.
Onion was a lovely cat, we must have had him over two years beforehe died, poisoned we think.
Gherkin and Cauliflower followed (I was going through the Cross and Blackwell 'Picalilli' mustard pickle label for names) Chunky too, there may have been a couple of others but I remember them not.
Picture to the right of Mitch with Onion in Singapore ......

1967 Morticia
A brief catless lull after Singapore until we moved into The Mill. A dog called Lurch (worth a tale of his own), a cat named Morticia and Thing, the hampster. We were into the "Adam's Family" by then. Sad comment, but apart from the name I remember Morticia not at all.

1968 ...... Fred, Minnie and Bunny.
Fred (upper right)came to us from the janitor's wife in the apartment in Lachine, Montreal. He was black with white bits. He survived five changes of residence and was a favourite cat. Said to belong to the CIA! Why else would he wear a microphone on his collar disguised to look like a flea repellant attachment? Got badly injured when hiding under a car hood for warmth while we lived in Dollard des Ormeaux. (Not an uncommon event in Canadian winters it seems). He died in Enfield. Nova Scotia, struck by a passing car. Another year and he'd have got to our remote Shuby' house and doubtless have lived forever. Mitch found the body and we buried him in the back yard in Enfield. Sadly missed was Fred.

Minnie ... our first female cat, a tabby. Acquired in Montreal soon after Fred. I think she had to be put down, reasons forgotten.

Bunnie (far right) succeeded Minnie. Aquired from...? I think she came in the wicker cat basket that outlived most of the cats. Bunny had almost no tail and back legs that seemed longer than the front. I think she was a proper Manx cat. Sort of tabby above and white below. A sweet disposition, she was to live long with us, getting all the way to Shubenacadie.

1976? .... Jean Guy & Horatio ... Jean Guy was a big fluffy ginger male. Dumped from a car at the top of our road in Enfield. He went on to be a Shuby cat too. Why Jean Guy? Who knows?
Horatio, (above centre)named obviously because he only had one eye. His fate? I think he made it to Shuby. We seem to have a large cat population in the 70s.

1980? .... Meski and Brandy. Male and female Tonkinese. We took them in response to an ad. in the paper by a Halifax couple called Chan who were moving to Australia.
...Brandy, a tiny, beautiful, aloof female. One of those faster than light creatures that are the scourge of the bird world. She was a hard cat to really love - she lived too much on her terms to be owned by mere humans. She lost an eye and only just survived. The eyeball likely punctured by something like a dried grass stalk according to the vet.
A vivid memory of Brandy was duriing a visit to the vet. She (not the vet) fired a rectal thermometer half way acrss the surgery ... Brandy wasn't to be messed with. We had her put down when she was blinded in the other eye. Sadly, no picture yet found of Brandy
... Meski. (below left) Ah Meski. Said by Mrs. Chan to be named after a Morrocan oasis! Well, why not? I could reminisce about Meski forever. My all-time favourite cat! Memories: Meski dragging a garter snake, its tail in his mouth, all the way up our driveway, his feet tripping over the snake's body as he walked. Meski's crossed eyes and his head, endlessly scanning from left to right and back, both a result of serious injuries long before we got him. He was incredibly vocal, if you called him he'd answer, perhaps from the treeline and keep on yowling till you found each other. He loved to be held, he'd lie on your chest with a paw on either side of you neck and purr like a bus engine. Having old Meski put down was one of the saddest days of my life. Yes I cried. Still have his voice on tape.

1999? Eddie (on the right) .... Vivian's black tom cat. A car got him. Not really my cat of course, but black cat to black cat, Persil to Eddie, 1959-1999, 40 years ....... many cats, many years.

A strange footnote .... I met Vivian while Glennys was visiting the Chans (Meski and Brand's ex owners) in Perth, Australia.

1968 Why I Left (only joking) .......................................

I sometimes jokingly claim that there were two reasons I left England and came to Canada.

1. The end of steam trains.
2. The English money went decimal.

Neither is really true I suppose. My childhood passion for steam trains had faded as I'd left boyhood and wouldn't really return until the 80s. But 'steam' was sliding into history when we emmigrated. In 1967 the last steam trains ran on my beloved Southern. In 1968 it ended altogether. An era was gone.

As for the money, the U.K. went over to decimal currency in 1971. I had to look that up - later than I thought. ....... Incidently I'm keeping the "looking up" to a minimum. Partly laziness and partly because this blog is supposed to be all about memory. .........

As for that "old" money that confused foreign soldiers in two wars and tourists in general, it was remarkable in its variety and complexity. In "my time" there were nine diferent coins in circulation:

1/4p The farthing, small and copper, worth a quarter of a penny, a wren on the back. Starting
to go out of circulation by the fifties I think.
1/2p The halfpenny, pronounced haypenny, copper with Drake's Golden Hind? on the back.
1p The penny, plural: pence, copper, big, Britannia on the back, 12 =shilling, 240 = £1.
3p The three penny piece/thrupenny bit, twelve sided,a sort of gold coloured, clover? on the
back.
3p The silver 'thrupenny' bit or silver joey, they were small and getting rare in my childhood.
6p The sixpence or tanner, smallest common silver coin.
1/- The shilling or bob, silver, twenty to the pound.
2/- The florin or two shilling piece or two bob bit, silver.
2/6 The half-crown or half a dollar(!), silver.

5/- The crown had gone by my childhood although they were occasionally minted as memorial pieces, they were issued for example at Churchill's death.

The guinea, that mysterious coin in gold worth £1/1/0, i.e one pound one shilling. A sort of snob currency in my day. Fur coats were priced in guineas and horse races, i.e. "The Thousand Guinea Stakes". The coin was 'never seen' the word being merely a "price tag", most odd.

10/- There was a ten shilling note (or ten bob note or half a nicker) worth of course, half a pound,
£1 The pound note or quid. I was getting twenty per week of those when I emmigrated = $48
£5 Five pound notes (or fiver) too, looking much like the pound note. Earlier there had been five pound notes printed on crackly white paper with writing in glossy black script which stood proud of the paper, lovely things - I never saw many of those!

I have a small collection of the 'old' money in a tin in the railway room, nice to poke through it and remember sometimes.

Now things are simpler over 'ome. It's all pounds and new pence. The new halfpenny has gone, its value shrunk and the new penny will soon follow I think.
There is a copper 2p piece still, which used to serve as a dollar in Halifax's parking meters! There are 5p and 10p and 20p pieces all in silver. £1 and £2 coins and bank notes for higher values. ............................ but it ain't the same sigh! (And the Euro is coming!!! Groan!)

1975 Arrival Nova Scotia ..............................


Feelings were mixed back then I'm sure. This little memory lane wander was prompted by my browsing through our 'colour slide CD' which holds pictures of Singapore and much of what followed.
A few of my heartstrings got tugged during that browse! Yearnings for times gone by? The ache as you wish that "Scotty could beam you back"?

This is Martin with saucepan and Mitch with hair. The place? "Back of the Moon Lodge" cottage in Enfield. Summer of 1975 after a rainstorm - Martin is catching rain running off the roof I suppose.

The boys and Glennys had stayed behind in Montreal waiting, as the weeks turned into months, as we waited for the house in Ile Perrot to sell. It had seemed the house would never sell in Quebec's depressed real estate market.

Following the introduction of Bills 22 and 101, designed to preserve the French language by obliterating English, Quebec seperatist fever had broken out again. I/we'd had enough! A promotional bulletin had appeared at Air Canada for a licensed mechanic in Halifax. I'd bid and been accepted.

So ............. house eventually sold, my family moved east, I stopped living in a hotel, we got temporary accomodation in Back of the Moon Lodge and began the frantic search for a house.

Refugee status? But then again ....... for Mitch the T-shirt is/was oddly prophetic!

2007 Back to the Basement Museum................

and another six items:

7. The violin bow. A momento of my stepfather Reginald William Batten. This bow is now devoid of its horsehair. Did you know? ...... It really does come from horses, from their tails. The hairs are layed alternately root end, free end, root end, free end so that the bow 'drags' on the string equally in both directions. Amazing the work and variety of materials in this bow. Ivory I think at the 'far' end, mother-of-pearl - the small circular inlays, leather sleeve for the grip, the horsehair as above, the wood - mahogany? seems to have an octagonal cross-section, ebony perhaps forms the body of the tensioner, red gold - the trim - bearing the name Reginald Batten and the letters R.A.M. (Royal Academy of Music) and the date 1921. (that's 85 years) I think it was a presentation item.
Missing too are the parts that made up the adjuster. The bow is in a sorry state now but still a tribute to the craftsmen who made it. Cheers Reg! I still think fondly of you.

8. The DC-8 emblem. This was 'borrowed' from the centre of the captain's control wheel on Air Canada DC-8 fleet number 820 at the time of its retirement.

9. The Vickers emblem. This from the captain's control wheel of an Air Canada Vanguard, fleet number 917 also at the time of its retirement. No doubt items 1(RR plate) 8 and 9 would fetch 'money' on E-Bay ..... how much I wonder?

10. The Pratt and Whitney 'badge'. From the gearbox of an Air Canada DC-8 Srs 63's engine when the aircraft was newly delivered. Strange how they always fell off.

11. L.a/c's badge, a two-bladed propellor. The 'Leading Aircraftsman' had some real significance during the war but, by the time I got the rank it had sunk to little more that a sort of 'passed your probation' mark.

Skip this next paragraph perhaps: The RAF ranks? Well the technical trades went this way: A.c.2 (Aircraftsman 2nd class); A.c.1 (Aircraftsman 1st class); L.a/c. (Leading Aircraftsman); S.a/c. (Senior Aircraftsman); J/T (Junior Technician); Corporal Technician; Senior Technician; Chief Technician; Master Technician. The last four were Corporal, Sergeant, Flight Sergeant, Warrant Officer equivalents.

12. J/T's chevron/Junior technician's stripe. I joined the RAF and trained as an Aircraft Mechanic. As an S.a/c I applied for a Fitter's Course. Passing this made me a Junior Technician - more money!

2007 Coincidences ........................................


1. Birthdays. Vivian's I learned to remember, because you DON'T forget your maiden's birthday.
It came as a considerable surprise to realise that Martin's Kim has her birthday on exactly the same day. Just a strange coincidence of course.
Then we discovered that Mitch's then new hearthrob, had the same birthday too!
All three Hutton adult males had new ladies, all with the same birthday. Just too much of a coincidence surely. I've yet to check on the birthday of my father's second wife.

2. When I lived in the apartment in Park Victoria we had a clear view, from the living room, of The Infirmary. High on its wall facing us from a block away was a bronze statue of Jesus. When the hospital closed men came with a huge crane and took the statue down.
A year or so later I was living on Flying Cloud Drive in Dartmouth. Nearby is a Catholic church. In due course Jesus turned up and lay on his back in front of that church. Then men came and with concrete and girders and erected a support for the aforementioned statue.
Now, from our living room, we have a clear view of Himself. Is he, I wonder, keeping an eye on me?

3. Vivian's adopted daughter Amanda had, unbeknown to Vivian, had been contacted by her birth mother. In the course of events meetings with all parties was arranged. In all of Dartmouth and Halifax and all their environs where do the Browns, Amanda's birth-parents live? Next door to Martin and Kim.

4. I never met my father. I was nearing forty before I found out anything at all about him. When I was still shy of my eighteenth birthday I'd elected to become an aircraft mechanic in the Royal Air Force. In the early 1970s I discovered he'd been an aircraft mechanic in the Royal Air Force during the second world war.

2007 Come to think of it, I've had enough of aviation for a while folks. You too? Thought so.

So ..... L1011, B727, B737, B747, B767, Airbuses, Dash 8 and BAe146 can all wait for another day.

2007 Enough Aeroplanes? ...............................

It's difficult to escape from some subjects when we talk about ourselves. This blog is maybe as much for my own delight as it is for others to read. I suppose it has to be about me but I sometimes wish that "others" figured more prominently.

I have a "maybe" audience of half a dozen or so. Feedback is pretty well zero, so I tend to assume nobody is reading the stuff. Son Mitchell is the exception and his encouragement is a big part of why I've kept going thus far.

Three months of writing this stuff now and about 30 posts which comes out at one very three days. Since I've discovered I can add photos, my own or trawled from the'web', things have got more attractive and more fun. I discovered the other day that, by clicking on the image it will usually go to 'full-screen'.

One more quick stab at 'my flights' to finish it off and I'll try for something fresh and non-aviation.

1968 The Boeing 707 ........................

This one and only 707 trip was our (all four of us) immigration flight from Manchester, England to Montreal , Canada. I wrote this little tale earlier.

1969 The Douglas DC-8

Air Canada had a mix of DC-8s. Series 40s, 50s and 60s. I'm sure I flew in them all, over the years. My first flight was probably to England and back taking advantage of my "free" employee passes. No idea how often they took me and the family over the Atlantic both from Montreal and from Halifax. Their heavy and noisy landings weren't good for the passengers' nerves. I thought the 'stretched' 63s with their 'long engines' has a certain grace in flight. The biggest of all the pre-jumbo jets, they carried 200+/- passengers.

1971 ? The Vickers VC10 A telegram from my mother that my stepfather, Reg, was dying, had me hurrying to England from Montreal on a compassionate flight. By chance, seats were open on a BOAC flight to Manchester. A VC10! So I got a ride in one of these lovely machines. That trip will make a good tale for later.

1971? The Douglas DC9 The aircraft I knew best of all! I wrote my license on it. Flew on them many, many times over about 20 years. Many cockpit trips. Crashed the flight simulator a few times in Montreal :) The picture? From an airline 'give-away' postcard.

1962 The Hastings .........................................


My little bit of war! As the Labuan story is worth a post all of it own. I'll save the Hastings flights for when I tell it. This spoils the flow of the aeroplane blog entries I know so I've added pictures of the three aircraft types. Top, the Hastings.

The Twin Pioneer centre and the Beverley at the bottom

The story then moves back to England via another Britannia flight which took the three of us 'home'.

My next flight was to be in another Hastings from England to Gibraltar and back. That merits a story of its own too.

1962 Whirlwind 10 ......................................


My first and, thus far, only helicopter flight. It could hardly have been a better flight for a once only.

I was a test flight of an aircraft assembled by 390 Maintenance Unit. Dave Hardy and I sat in the doorway with our legs dangling. We were suitably harnessed and strapped. A glorious sunny day and the Whirlybird lifted off. Sat there in the downdraft of the rotor and drifting over Singapore island's villages and trees and blue waters - pure magic. Seeing the world from a very different viewpoint. It's all a happy, long-ago blur now. We did an auto-rotate where power is cut to simulate an engine failure, we survived that. The rotor pitch is reversed I think and the helicopter does its version of a glide. In time we landed. All those years ago now but still I think of it as my most memorable flight. The picture shows a Whirlwind 1o with its door, "our" door, wide open. It was the only one I could find in the paint scheme I remember. (We didn't carry the slung load of course)

1962 The Devon .............................

Another test flight but this time I'd worked extensively on the aircraft, on the fuel tanks. The picture shows a Devon C2 although no doubt 'mine' was a Mk.1. Lovely aircraft (being de Havilland, it would be) this one was an Air Attache's aircraft (perhaps from Bangkok?). They came to the M.U. at Seletar for overhaul. The flight was a little different from usual. Prop feathering and a stall and doubtless other good stuff. We flew, I think, across the water and over a bit of Malaya's jungle. The Devon was the Air Force version of the very successful Dove. Ah, days of yore!