Tipperary House in Grantham 1894


a story from the heart and beyond



This is a private creative project from Dr. Michael G Millett outside of his main work as a psychotherapist, hypnotherapist, meta physicist and counsellor now based in Grantham in Lincolnshire.
Everything here carries full copyright © by Dr. Michael G Millett, Elevated Therapy
®. All rights reserved. 
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The Diaries of Mary Ann Wennell

Friday July 20th, 1894
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6:30am – Late getting up from bed this morn. No time for a long wash, but put my hair in a bun. I pricked my fingers with those darn pins again. No scratching they said. There were supposed to be no points with these pins from Hindes in London. I was annoyed, I was.

Went down stairs to the kitchen and pulled up the blind and opened the window. It`s going to be another nice warm summer`s day again.
Got water from the pump outside the back door and put the kettle on, and started to clean the range and fireplace.

A dirty grate makes food late. I need to get a new bucket as this one has died - it has had its day. Domestic bliss is worth more than all the glory in the world, I do need a new bucket and more glory too, I do in some ways anyways.
Everyone does it seems, even the politicians, I have to say.
That thought makes me laugh or cry, it does. Will say it to Master James later. He likes me sayings. Glory can be a key driver in building morale, and greater efforts for sure. But I do need a new bucket.

Took two grand cups of tea to Master James and Mrs. Chapman in their bed chamber. My, she seemed chirpy this morning. Well, Archibald and Tim will be coming home today from school for the summer.
Poor love has not been well these weeks past, and she has suffered. 
Nice to see her shine today, it is. Aye, she has such a shiny face, she has when she is happier.

Cleaned up the dining room before setting it for breakfast. 
I always said, the first dish of the day should be pleasing to all. It is the most important meal of the day, and most should have a hearty breakfast before doing things.

Prepared and served the breakfast. Gave them boiled eggs and some bread. Master James likes his boiled eggs, ran them under cold water as he told me to do. 
For an egg of average size, boil for three minutes, I always say. Smaller eggs need less and turkey eggs need a lot more. 
Master James was talking again about horseless carriages or motor cars and now horseless carriages that`s got electricity in them ! Well. I never.
Made by some gentleman in London or over Norwich way. Master James said it was the same gentleman who stood unsuccessfully in the General Election, two year gone, he did. I didn`t know that !!
My, some things go over me head, they do, politicians making horseless carriages now, electricity in `em too. Who do they think they are, them politicians.  They have their fingers in every pie.
Politicians, bah ! They sound more like generalists more than specialists. England needs specialists. Them here politicians seem to just sit and muse and mostly muse, no specialists.

And this here Irish Home Rule Bill now in vogue, with the Second Irish Home Rule Bill defeated in the Lords, a year gone now, it was.
Poor Mr. Gladstone, `Our William` tried all he could to help the Irish, he only resigned four months ago, poor man !
To my mind, the terrible Phoenix Park murders of two year back was a shock and changed a lot, it did.
Shame our Queen Victoria doesn`t like `Our William` ! Shame it is ! If she had perhaps, things would have been different and better for all, me`s thinking.
Sometimes hurts and pride stay with us too long, mind, like the Roscommon Baronet John Ponsonby Conroy, an Irish man he was, who survived the ‘Cumberland plot’, and then this here Kensington system he tried to impose on poor Victoria as a child.
And poor Lady Flora Hastings, well, I say !
I don`t like hurt and resentment, arrogance and this inordinate ambition, makes folks stuck with emotion that is stronger than steel.
Proper words in proper places, instead of too much tongue and too much judgement. Wrong deeds and oppression degrade us all !
Too much ambition has many masters, I say. And it does ! It`s all about love and understanding at the end of the day.
Poor John Conroy died at Arborfield Hall in `54, over 40 years ago, the years have flown, they have.
Them here politicians again said the Irish folks were not worth the effort, and all that happened there was them folks` fault.
I say, it were not ! It weren`t decent !! It were cruel ! We should have done more, we all should have ! They are our people too. They are my people ! Two million gone, they suffered, they did those poor people. Should have been no pride there at all, but all about honesty of humility.
Where are the all the Renaissance Men now? Like Francis Bacon and Isaac Newton from Woolsthorpe-by-Colsterworth, a Lincolnshire man, he was.
Phew politicians ! Bring `em back, bring back the specialists or find or make new ones! Where`s it all going, aye, I don`t know ! But it's not good.

Washed up afterwards and went up to the front chamber and stripped the bed, aired the room by opening the window.
I noticed John from over Watergate in a rush down Dudley Road. What`s he doing round here, I thought. He`s must be on his way up to Newcome`s the chemist on the High Street again for Mr. Newcome`s celebrated Hair Restorer. John was telling me about it, he was.
Supposed to help nervous headaches and rheumatism as well. It must be a `golden lotion`, I say with what`s being said around Grantham.
It`s advertised everywhere locally now. I don`t know ! Why are men buying it when it is sold by Mr. Newcome who parts his hair with a towel as he's as bald as an egg ? He is sporting his Fly Rink around town while talking about this here Hair Restorer to all who will listen.
Not very ethical is it ? Quite mad really. Clearly you wouldn`t boil that egg in three minutes either, perhaps not even ten or twenty !!

Have to ask John about it when I see him again, and if it`s worked and if he`s been restored now including his hair. Looks the same to me from the window. Nice man, John. Bless him !

The two boys will be home today from school for the summer holidays. I am so excited, I am. It will be nice to see `em both, but young Tim most. He is a bonnie boy. 
He keeps calling me Polly Wolly Doodle and makes me laugh, he does.

Cheeky Monkey !

Had me own breakfast. Some bread served with a slice of cold pie.

Got out me new apron that Mrs Chapman got for me from Alice on Cecil Street.
I like it, the bib is tight.

Cleaned the kitchen and made the bed in the front chamber. I can hear Mrs. Chapman coming back in the front door with Ena Gardener from across the road. 
My, how that woman cackles some when she talks, and she does have a loose tongue too, I noticed. We should cultivate virtues as well as pray for `em. 
Still, she cheers Mrs. Chapman up which is most important, even with her wagging tongue.

12:00pm –  Served lunch for Mrs. Chapman and Ena Gardener. They had me potato pie with boiled bacon, and then some pudding with chocolate icing on it. 
They both said it were very nice. I appreciate appreciation, I do. Mrs Chapman always appreciates me, she does. 
She is a good woman. I do like Mrs Chapman, and her appreciation, it makes the good inside her belong to me as well. Sometimes a willingness to put it into words is all that is necessary. Yeah, appreciate appreciation, is right !

Cleared the table, washed up, then put everything back in its place.

Scrubbed the pantry, scullery floor and sink, thought of ease but worked on, then had something to eat and enjoyed it most.

This afternoon, finished cleaning the silver that I started yesterday, before everyone came home. There is skill in all things, even in cleaning silver, I always say.

5:00pm –  Young Tim and Archibald arrived home with Master James. They are so happy and gay that school has finished for the summer now. It were a joy to see `em.
I`m happy too they`re home. Master James set down some ground rules for `em. Nowt wrong with that, I say. I notice Archibald is quite the handsome young man now, he is. 
It won`t be long until he breaks some young lasses` heart, I`m thinking.

Hearts are strange ! When they are broken they`re  stranger still, how come they still can work ? To my mind, it`s all about courage. 
Like William Shakespeare`s Macbeth said. “Who could refrain that had a heart to love and in that heart courage to make love known”, he did. 
Courage is the best of human virtues, I always say, because it brings certainty to all other virtues. It is showing kindness to others even under pressure.

That brings me back to romance and me courting days in thought and mind......................................

Always love and appreciate the poetry of young John Keats, a poet with such depth and emotion. Shame he died so young.
"I have been astonished that men could die martyrs for their religion — I have shuddered at it. I shudder no more. I could be martyred for my religion. Love is my religion and I could die for that. I could die for you".

Oooh, I like that new song out "Daisy Bell”, makes me smile and appreciate too, it does.

Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer, do,

I'm half crazy all for the love of you.

It won't be a stylish marriage -

I can't afford a carriage.

But you'd look sweet on the seat

Of a bicycle built for two.  

I say, that`s all about courage, it is..........

When the road's dark, we can both despise
P'licemen and lamps as well.
There are bright lights in the dazzling eyes
Of beautiful Daisy Bell.

Young Tim called me Polly Wolly Doodle again. Cheeky Monkey !

7:00pm –  Dished up the dinner to Master James, Mrs Chapman and the two boys.
Our "daily girl", Molly from College Street couldn`t come today. I gave them meat soup, and Chicken Fricassee served with rice and dinner rolls with sweet cream butter, and afterwards some preserved fruit.
A good dinner is better than a fine coat. Master James didn`t eat his fruit again.Young Tim picking again he was - well, children and chicken will always be picking, I always say and it`s true ! N`ere mind though !

10:00pm –  Ate me own supper and tidied up. The boys are upstairs in bed. Master James and Mrs. Chapman are in the front parlour, reading together, that`s nice.
Master James is reading aloud from William Thackeray`s Vanity Fair.
I always say, use books as bees use flowers. He has such a clear voice has Master James. He always focuses on each and every word he says, and always opens his mouth, loosens his lips and seems to keep his tongue and teeth in the correct position as he speaks.

11:30pm –  Time to sleep. It has been a great and lovely day and my - it`s warm tonight. Balmy Summer days make me feel better than most, like breath by breath, a breathless breeze blowing the roses, daisies and China asters in my mind, they do.
Followed by a summer`s night which is a perfect thought - calming your soul, allowing you to reflect on the important things and sweet memories of the day. Perfect thoughts.

Watergate, Grantham, Lincolnshire

It was called `Walkergate` earlier up to about 1850, when it changed to be called Watergate.
`Walkergate` is said to have housed the "Walker" and "Fuller" families who worked the Wool Trade, as Grantham was an important wool trade centre some while earlier in history.

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