Canon W H Elliott died in 1957 after a distinguished life dedicated to the Church. In his time, he had been a regular preacher in Canterbury Cathedral, a radio broadcaster during the 1930's, Canon Emeritus of Coventry Cathedral and Chaplain, not only to Kings George V & VI but to our present Queen Elizabeth from 1952 until his death. Earlier in his life, he had been vicar at Holy Trinity in Folkestone. In April, I went with my mum (Irene) to visit that church where they have applied a memorial inscription on the entrance doors. And of what relevance is this Rev gentleman to the Scutts ? Why did we visit & why do we remember him ? Well, as I'm fed up with publishing this blog with never a response, so I'll leave it to my mum, or maybe my brother to post a comment & explain all ... over to you, family !
Back to Oregon in May and this time I went too. From Seattle we drove south on I5, with stunning views of first Mt. Olympus to the west, then Mt. Rainier to the east - at 4,392m this peak really dominates the landscape. I'm possibly the only person that hadn't realised the logic to Interstate numbering - odd numbers run north/south, even east/west. As we followed and then crossed the mighty Colombia River, the familiar sight of Mt. Hood welcomed us to Portland, glowing a beautiful pink in the evening sun. As we drove the last leg to Ren's home in Gresham I was reminded that this is where they grow many of the plants for America's gardens - fields of flowering shrubs; rhododendrons , azaleas and of course, roses. Portland is known as the "City of Roses" and we missed the Rose Festival (which runs through June) by a week ! The City is also know as the home of t he Dandy Warhols & countless micro breweries, but we missed them too this trip. And so down to B...
Early one morning, killing time with a coffee walking through Soho, I came upon St.Anne’s Churchyard. I stopped to watch a group of people taking a Tai Chi routine, reminding me of those I’d seen in San Francisco’s Chinatown Park. But what really interested me was the very large gravestone & strange shed like memorial to William Hazlitt. Born in Maidstone in 1778, Hazlitt was a philosopher, critic and essayist, little read or remembered today, but much quoted by my Father.
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