The British way of death

Northern Cemetery Chapel, Chanterlands Avenue, Hull

People, it appears, can no longer afford to die. Yes I know they keep on shuffling off without a care but those left behind are finding it increasingly difficult to pay for disposing of the earthly remains. The average cost of dying, that's including funeral, burial or cremation and state administration, rose last year by over 7% to £7,622 if you believe a survey by an insurance company although that does seem rather a lot. That figure is greater than average savings so you can see how it might distress the bereaved to get into debt over this matter. Clearly someone is making a pile (dare I say they are making a killing, why not?) out of all this; undertakers' mark-ups on coffins, for example, are  reputed to be 200%!. Then there's deeds of grant (£25 a year, minimum 10 years payable in advance) and interment fees, in Hull that's currently £820! And don't get me talking about wreaths and flowers!  Still you don't have to fork out all that; there are cut price jobs for under £1000. If you own your own patch of garden you can always go under the roses wrapped in a blanket for that stay-at-home interment, just make sure you're at least two foot under the sod. 

The chapel here is a grade 2 listed building from the early 1900's, it'll cost you a £70 'chapel fee' to hire it! Have a nice day!

"Take it outside, God boy!"

This set of photos come from the heritage open day back in September. I had thought that there might be something interesting lurking behind the archway entrance to Trinity House School, the old school not the new cereal box conversion on George Street. Well I ought to have known better. As you pass through the arch you are met (or rather were since demolition has thankfully removed it) by a boring brick building, typical school building in fact. Meh! Ahead the entrance to the chapel. Well much money had obviously been spent on sitting bums so that some deity can be bothered by prayers and hymns. There's stained glass, an organ and the usual paraphernalia. What educational value all this had I do not know. My own experience at a Catholic school many years ago led me to one of my few firm convictions that religion and schools should be kept well apart.

Thankfully demolished for a car park!

Dog's Head

The faithful dog - why should I strive 

To speak his merits, while they live 

In every breast, and man's best friend 

Does often at his heels attend.

The New-York Literary Journal, Volume 4, 1821

This piece of doggerel (well pardon me) is, as far as I can find, the first reference to "man's best friend" in print. The local rag has it that the East Riding, and Hull in particular, has one of the highest rates of animal cruelty in the country, but then it was quoting the RSPCA, an organisation that is, perhaps, more of a money raising engine than an animal welfare organisation. This old hound was left to wait its master return from the supermarket and, if you'll allow a little anthropomorphic fancy on this Saturday morning, appears to be regretting its choice of 'friend'.

There will, I suppose, never be a better opportunity  to post this little song by Alex Glasgow.

The weekend in black and white is waiting here.

Déjà vu

The Christmas tree is deepest red

Its plastic leaves will ne'er be shed.

I hadn't been into town for over a month so I missed, if that is the word, the seasonal decorations, save for these remaining red trees which had been recycled from past yules, waste not want not. If this post seems familiar that's because exactly two years ago I posted this. 

Grimston and Jarratt

Grimston Street, Hull

Homœopathy is, like so many things, complete tosh, often dangerous tosh at that, but that doesn't stop the gullible from meeting the duplicitous and both parties 'benefiting' from the encounter. As I understand it the more dilute the dose the more powerful it is, so the oceans must be one hell of a potent source of well being which I suppose explains that ancient joke about homœopaths who drown dying of an overdose. This old fading (but growing stronger with every dilution) sign points to a building around the corner, you want to know what that building looks like don't you? Sure you do ... ever seen a bow-window like that before?

Jarratt Street, Hull

The observant or still living amongst you might remember this sign next to it.

PS. now I read the sign with more care and attention I see that it refers to Princes House, and the dentists is called Princes Denture Repair, well I should try to wake up in the morning and put one and one together... 

Slow Zone

George Street, Hull

For those motorists who have difficulty understanding numbers, and that would seem to be the  majority, the authorities have posted a helpful idiot's guide to indicate the sort of crawling speed they would appreciate on the town's roads. 

Look your last on all things not so lovely

High rise buildings were seen as an answer to a lack of space in inner cities, you couldn't build out so you built up. Strange then that when Hull spread out into the fields and countryside surrounding it in the 1960's building hundreds of Council houses in the fancifully named Orchard Park Estate, it also built several high rise blocks despite there being no lack of space. OPE, as it is tagged by local grafittistas, was designed along the lines of Radburn, New Jersey, a garden city 'planned for the motor age'. Well what might have worked in 1930's NJ didn't quite workout in East Yorkshire. One suspects the crossing of palms with silver may have happened as it did in other slum clearances and redevelopments in other towns across the country at the time. Anyhow a high rise with a country view turned out to be no more popular than a high rise with a view of the back of Paragon Station. Nor did it lead to a community-in-the-air rather a dystopian anti-social nightmare with the usual mix of high unemployment (currently 27%), vandalism, drugs and crime. So to cut a long and sadly predictable story short these towers are being removed either by explosion or gobbled up by a giant building eating machine. This one, Highcourt, is the last one standing and it too should be gone soon with a bang so I'm told. 

Meanwhile in another part of town I read that 5,402 new homes are set to be built in Hull in the next five years. I love the exactness of the figure and the vagueness of the phrase "set to be built". Maybe the palms haven't as yet been crossed with enough silver ...

Upon this blasted heath ...

Well hardly, this is the well grazed almost manicured common land that is Beverley Westwood and much of what you see here is a golf curse. This was taken sometime ago so it's a good bet that that wreck of a tree is no longer there especially as it was being used as a swing by the locals. Far away, off on the horizon you can just make out (with a magnifying lens) the old black mill.

The things you used to see

It's a shame that the old local custom of placing a large pig in your window for good luck and prosperity is no longer as commonly observed as it once was. It's been a while since I've seen an example of this and this photo dates back a good five years or so. Perhaps the city of culture will see a revival of this quaint practice.

Ocean Seeker

Maybe it's just me but watching ships carry out intricate manoeuvres in a fast flowing current attempting to get into a narrow dock gate there always the vague wish, no that's too strong a word, idea maybe, lurking at the back of your mind they might, I don't know, overshoot or run into the bank or some such. There's probably a word for it: schadenfreude infantilis or some such.  Thankfully it never happens, at least not while I'm standing there taking pictures. This survey ship made its stately way up stream then halted and performed a very smooth almost balletic right-angled turn to enter Albert Dock. No bumps, no scrapes, no fun at all.

The Weekend in Black and White continues here.

Apparition

This ghost of Xmas just passed was taken by Margot at a bus stop on Newland Avenue.

Weekend Reflections might be here if it's still going.

Bee and Burdock

Asked by City Daily Photo to post my favourite photo from the year just ended I pondered for a while but in the end  it had to be this close up of a tree bumble bee enjoying the nectar of a burdock flower. These bees were first spotted in the UK as recently as 2001 but are now quite common, they've even nested under my kitchen roof and, of course, they are most welcome. Read more about Bombus hypnorum here.

You can see other favourites of the past year here.

Let's have a butchers ...

Here is Princes Avenue's sole remaining butcher's shop, T L Norman. Now it's been called T L Norman for longer than I've lived in Hull but Mr Norman retired a while ago and it's now run by some body else. Looking for something to say about this I found that there used to be six butchers on the avenue, I can only remember two others. They are now either a café or a bar along with just about every other shop that used to trade in this street.

This miserable year appears to have run out of days ... more of the same tomorrow then! Oh and remember; “Better the butcher than the meat.”. 

Two statues

Continuing in the vein of stuff that somehow didn't get posted earlier here are two statues from Beverley Minster. On the left King Æthelstan who, I am informed, came along to Beverley Minster to see the tomb of Saint John of Beverley (shown on the right as a bishop) before going off to kill a few hundred Scots and Danes, which was the style at the time. Both statues are made of lead and painted to match the stone interior, they date from the 18th century. Beverley Minster owes a lot to these two, King Æth. for his "pious munificence" and St J. for his bones which brought in the tourists, erm sorry, pilgrims.

Here's one I did earlier

Somehow this one didn't get posted in August when I took it. It's underneath Chanterlands Avenue rail bridge. It was at about this time (and those of you with a weak stomach may wish to leave now) that the local rag ran a story of "inch long maggots" falling from this bridge onto the heads of unsuspecting pedestrians. It seems the rail company (or the Council, it was never clear who) had put up netting to keep pigeons from nesting but which instead trapped said birds (I saw at least two there may have been more) and led to a prolonged death by starvation and with the warm weather an inevitable host of maggots which left the rotting corpse when ready to pupate, falling like some biblical plague on the sinners below. The Council was informed and the Council sent an officer round to inspect and to write a report and then the Council undertook to study the report carefully and the Council said it would take swift and appropriate action should it be deemed necessary ...

Some scrapings from the bottom of the barrel

I've not been out and about much lately what with colds, seasonal social interference aka Xmas, looking after a large black dog and so on. So I've been sifting through pictures taken earlier this year and came across this bunch all from Humber Dock Street or nearby and all pretty similar so I thought I'd bunch them all up in one big post. The first two are the Minerva which I have shown in daylight here and here.

Below is the award-winning restaurant 1884 which I posted just before it opened here.

Thieving Harry's I posted recently here.

Sign of authority

Tucked away in a little brick hut and behind steel grills the harbour master's office near Drypool bridge is a reminder that, from the Humber to the northern boundary of the city of Hull, the navigation authority on the river Hull is Hull City Council. HCC's website informs us that "A harbour master is on duty from three hours before high water (HW) Hull (Albert Dock) until HW or later if required, except Sundays" and that the HM is responsible for the operation of the movable bridges that link both halves of this fair city. Actually I don't think the harbour master works from this building any more as his/her address is the Guildhall, Alfred Gelder Street, and given that hardly any navigating seems to go on nowadays the post must almost be a sinecure. 

Festive fun

And how did you spend your Christmas morning? Why trying to identify this fungus since you ask. And did you succeed in your mycological quest? Erm, no. The best I can come up with is that it's a bracket fungi (well, d'oh!) possibly an Alder Bracket though, as all the guides say, identification is tricky.  These guys are sprouting out of that dead chestnut tree I posted a while back on the 'decay' theme day .

Here they are with a bit of colour.

The weekend in black and white should be here if it hasn't been consumed by all the seasonal goings-on.

Dolls are for life and not just for Christmas

Thank you Margot for this image of poor neglected Louise.

Umbúðamiðlun

Umbúðamiðlun translates as packing media which makes a kind of sense. Here the Icelanders and Norwegians seems to have the fish crate market stitched up between them on Bridlington's fish quay.

"Oh look! Here comes Dick with his pussy ..."

Pub sign on Commercial Road, Hull

I don't know if it's a particularly British thing but at this time of year most towns, villages and cities will have at least one pantomime show on offer. They may have differing titles such as Cinderella, Puss in Boots, Aladdin or Dick Whittington but essentially they are just the same old morality tale of good overcoming bad. The lead male is for some reason usually played by a woman and there's usually an old dame played by a man, all for comic effect (ha ha ha). Scripts are updated, no, updated is not the word since the jokes are as old as the world, to include scurrilous comments and innuendos about current events and personalities. Filthy puns are de rigueur , the filthier the better. There is always a sing-along with the lyrics somehow displayed on stage. If your panto doesn't include a prolonged session of "Oh no it isn't!" from the stage and an audience reply of "Oh yes it is!" then you should ask for a refund ... 

The only panto I've actually been to starred, if that is the word, the Shadows at Stockton ABC that was way, way back in around 1962. I think it may have been the mental scars from this experience that put me off all things 'festive' ever since. 

North Bridge

After two hundred and fifty years or so of going by ferry across the river the good citizens of Hull decided to move with the times and invest in the new-fangled technology, a bridge. As the bridge replaced the North Ferry it naturally became known as the North Bridge. Quite what the ferry men thought of this early example of displacement by new technology and subsequent loss of trade is not recorded. That was back in the boom times of 1541 and obviously the bridge has been rebuilt several times since then; the latest being in the late 1920's when this was put across a few yards further north than the previous bridge. The remains of that bridge are still just about visible next to this converted warehouse.

The Weekend in Black & White is here.

Listed buildings and respectability

A long while ago I was upbraided for referring to Midland Street as being "seedy". Did I not know that respectable people lived there and that there were two listed buildings in the neighbourhood and no fewer than five churches? Well actually I did not know that (about the buildings and churches, that is, I am well aware that the area's reputation is wholly undeserved and only saints and God fearing folk live in these parts) nor, to be honest, did I care much. 

Anyhow to make some sort of belated amends here are the two listed buildings, the front one with the odd tower is Owbridge Court, built 1895 as a cough mixture factory making Owbridge's Lung Tonic (I kid you not), the building's other name is the Laboratory!. The tonic was a mixture of chloroform, honey and alcohol and, as it said on the bottle, it never fails; just don't give it to babes under six months of age! In the distance is Turner Court originally built as model dwellings for working people in the 1860's and now flats owned by the William Sutton Trust and home to some, no doubt, very respectable people.

Klokketårn

This is the Danish Sailors' Church of  St Nikolaj on the corner of Osborne Street and Ferensway. This 1950's building replaced a Victorian building on the other side of the street destroyed in the bombing of Hull during the last war. There are bells in this tower but I've never heard them ring. 

The Rank House

I posted about this house on Holderness Road some three years ago,(here). It was once the home of J Arthur Rank, he of the films that began with a man and a gong. I mentioned then that it was in a bit of a state. Well now it's being repaired and restored for social housing. In the story I read it was expected that the first tenants would be in by the end of this year, it looks like they'll have get a move on to achieve that. Still, let's keep our quibbling to a minimum.

Green Bricks in the dark

Bleurgh! I'm feeling a bit like death warmed up at the moment so I'll just post this gloomy little scene and retire for a while with a warm drink and a bottle of aspirin, morituri te salutant....

Christmas Sucks

Oh, give me a noose I can hang from the tree

I need no excuse to end my misery

this holiday season is all the more reason to die.

Oh, pull up a stool lend an ear to a fool

who once found some solace in the season of yule

this holiday season is all the more reason to cry.

I put on my mittens, one green and one red

and I walk alone where they bury the dead

the snow falls as I grieve its a gothic death rock

christmas eve.

The bottle is empty,

the sleigh has a flat,

the stripper in my bed is ugly and fat,

her tassles are tangled and what's worse - my jingle won't jangle.

This time of the year makes me sick to my guts

all this good cheer is a pain in the nuts

when it's your career to be down in the dumps

tidings of comfort and joy really suck.

I feel like St. Nicholas is pulling my leg

this thing we call Christmas is a sorry black plague

this holiday season is....

... all the more reason to die

Peter Murphy & Tom Waits (allegedly)

Click and Collect

This appeared just down the road a few weeks ago. It's a safe for parcels to be dropped off and then you come along and collect at your convenience. With all this internet shopping and so forth I suppose it saves having to organise redelivery if you are out when the postman calls. I have to say I've not seen anyone actually use it as yet.

East Park

As I often do at this time of year I visited East Park to see if the goosanders had arrived but I didn't see any. However I have heard that there several at another park over in west Hull maybe they just fancied a change of scenery. There were still plenty of seagulls on the lookout for a free lunch.

The weekend in black and white has snooken up on us again and it's here.

A Playground in December

When that I was and a little tiny boy,

    With hey, ho, the wind and the rain,

A foolish thing was but a toy,

    For the rain it raineth every day.

At risk of sounding like a old codger what, I ask, is wrong with the youth of today? The first sign of a hint of chill in the air and no-one goes out to play.(Indeed does anyone go out to play in the park any more without some parent traipsing along to spoil the fun?) And what's with all that soft knee-friendly dirt surrounding those health-and-safety-approved slides and swings? Where is the broken glass, the concrete, the dog muck, the rusty squeaky Witch's hat and the vicious turntable ride that went faster and faster 'til you were flung off, dizzy and disoriented to graze your knees and the palms of your hands yet again? Ah just one more spin before it's time to go home...

Splash Boat

In 1923 the council decided to build a splash boat and spent £1400 on materials and £474 2s 5d on building the tower so that folk can enjoy, yes that is word used, enjoy the experience of dropping 22 feet into the lake's welcoming waters aboard a small boat. Seems a simple enough pleasure. It is, of course, only a Summer thing, even the hardy folk of the City of Culture draw the line at splashing into ice.

When I first came to Hull it had been out of order for years but a heritage lottery funded renovation means that it works again or rather did work again until just the other day when vandals did thousands of pounds of damage. Even being a listed building doesn't protect from the anti-social brigade.

I was sure I had posted a picture of this before and indeed I have it's here.

Silver and Green Ginger

At the corner of Silver Street and Land of Green Ginger site this imposing pile of Portland stone built in 1873. No prizes for guessing it was once a bank, the Natwest bank in fact. Since the banking crisis means banks no longer have any need for savers to put real money in, they simply get their 'cash' from the Bank of England at zero charge, they have no need of expensive branches like this so it's been sold off. I've read that an application for permission for change of use to a "restaurant" and "drinking establishment" (I like that phrase even if it's yet another trendy wine bar!) has been made. I heard today that the much vaunted trickle down effect hasn't worked, but with all the coffee bars and boozers round here I think the trickle might become a flood ...

Streets paved with gold

Trinity House Lane

Christmas Twee

Red and green? Check. Tree? Check. Gold decorations and seasonal lights? Check. Advent candles? Check. Little gifts under the tree? Check. Hint of religious overtones (but don't over do it)? Check
OK that's Christmas sorted....

As I battled my way through the massed hordes of Baron Samedi's zomby army in town the other day it was nice to find this calm retreat where the true meaning of the end-of-year festival was being celebrated. You see it's all about tree worship ....

Irenic

Here's today's offering of  lights on the Humber's placid waters. Tomorrow I might find something colourful, who knows?

The weekend in black and white is happening here.
Weekend reflections are going on over here.

 Blogger tells me this is the 1500^th posting I've made, I should get a life.

C is for Cloud

... and also for cold which is what the weather bods have told us it will be for the next few days. When I say 'cold' I mean, of course, British 'cold' not your sub-zero nonsense that others have to endure. C could also be for conspiracy but this is just an innocent little passing cloud and means you no harm, honest.