domestic dross and a grusome death

We have all been very busy lately - settling into the term. So far running smoothly :-)
A lovely friend moved to Germany (where she is originally from) a month or two ago and left behind her bread maker with me. I have bonded with it. I've been using the timer to have various multi-grain loaves ready for when we get back from school. We tried a chocolate and raisin bread at Leo's party - nobody else got much it was such a hit with me :-)
This weekend I tried the cinnamon scrolls but due to a tripling of the rising time (we went out and it didn't seem important enough to make the kids stop rolling down the hill) and a very humid day the second rising got a little out of hand. I also made the filling with "lite" margarine instead of butter - which contained water - and a lot of it ran out of the roll, so I sort of dipped each roll in the mess. The result was very very delicious!!

I've also been doing some extremely non-functional sewing - mainly to find out what problems my 11 and 12 year old students are likely to come up against in their design projects. Meet my taniwha plus a kiwi from a bought pattern. The boys are most unhappy with the kiwi's 'girliness'.

And finally, but not briefly the ghastly demise of my great great grandfather George Ashcroft. I was thinking about not - but then if someone takes their own life I believe you can probably tell something about them by the method they choose. I can't even know for sure if death was George's real intention - he was brought up to believe suicide was a terrible sin. There is no doubt he was in terrible financial trouble, that he carried the weight of responsibility for his bad decisions alone - and it was a tortuous burden. Here are the facts of his last 15 hours. There are three Georges in the story - the non-Ascroft Georges are refered to by their surnames.

George Esther a close friend of George's met him at 6 pm on the 21st December 1889. George told Esther he was in serious financial toruble and wanted to ask Esther how to get out of it. George owed Esther a large sum of money and asked if he was prepared to wait. Esther said he was. George told him that for several days he had been suffering most excruciating pains in the head. He put his hand up to his brow and said "My God Esther if this continues I feel certain I shall go mad". Esther asked George if he was in any immediate trouble, and he said he scarcely knew how he stood. It was not his own business. He had been drawn into it by others in mining matters, but if they got time he had no doubt they should pull through. He was very much agitated - depressed but endevering to keep up. I have no reports of what George did or where he was between his meeting with Esther and 1am - he may have been home for dinner with his wife and young children, he may have drunk at the Hotel, he may have wandered the streets, I have know way of knowing. At 1am on the morning of 22nd December George entered St Paul's Church. Mr George Davie arrived at the church to clean at 5am, he habitually worked very early in the church as he was also the caretaker at South Seas Court. He went to sweep the church out finding the keys in the vestry door which was not locked. On entering he went into the chancel and was surprised to see a man lying down on the carpet apparently asleep. Davie knew that George was an office bearer of the church who might have occasion to go to the church for a book. He concluded for the time being that George had been overindulging and was sleeping it off. After a bit of sweeping Davie shook the sleeping George and asked what he was doing there. George replied "I am Ashcroft, give me a drink". Davie got him some water which he drank raising himself to do do.
George said "Don't tell anybody......... Get me a hassock or cushion for my head" which Davie promptly did. After half an hour more sweeping Davie heard George moaning and vomiting. Davie said "had I not better get a cab and take you home" George - in great pain - said "No, go and fetch Doctor Brown and tell him to bring something that will ease the pain". Davie ran to get the doctor who said he would be there directly. On his return Davie checked on George - who wouldn't let Davie touch him - and went to wait at the gate. Doctor Brown was a long time coming. At Davie's next check George said "well, go and fetch Roberts; any doctor under the circumstances". Davie ran to get Doctor Roberts only to find that he was out of town. As he arrived back at the church he found Doctor Brown feeling George's pulse and injecting morphia into his arm. Davie felt suspicious and on looking around noticed a cushion had something under it - a revolver in a leather case. He put the gun back and didn't mention it too the doctor. Dr Brown asked Davie to stand by George while he went to the hospital for the ambulance. While they were alone Davie asked George if he had shot himself. "yes, just under the heart".
"My God, what made you do such a rash act as that? Was it trouble or money that made you do it?"
"yes, I came in here at 1 o'clock, and shot myself at 5"
"I had better go and fetch Archdeacon Edwards and also let your wife know"
"No, don't tell anybody................................. Davie, take charge of that" (the pistol). Davie put it in his pocket. The amulance arrived and the Doctor and Davie helped George in. Later the observant Doctor Brown told Davie "you had better give the pistol up to the police" which he did.
They arrived at the hospital a few minutes after 9 am with George alive and concious. He was stripped off and wounds found in the front of his abdomen just below the ribs on the left side. His shirt was only slightly stained with blood. Dr Copeland and Dr Brown opened the abdomen to search for the injuries and found the bullet had passed backwards and to the right wounding arteries in 4 or 5 places and tearing the blood vessels. It had struck the rib at the back and travelled upwards. The bullet was not found. George was too weak for them to continue the search. His whole abdominal cavity was filled with blood. George died shortly after from haemorhage. It was concluded that he had fired a small bullet at close quarters held in his right hand while he pulled the trigger with his thumb.
After his death a note was found in George's pocket:
"1am prayed for my wife and children
1.30am still do
2am very cold; in great distress
3.30 must have slept
4 very cold and hopeless
4.15 daylight oh the agony of this night
4.30 "

It was later discovered that George's financial troubles were indeed extensive, he had not only lost money of his own but had taken money from his employer - presumably to prop up his failed investments - but had dug himself ever deeper in trouble. His wife and the children including my great grandfather Basil who was just 3 years old were taken in by family. I have know idea how they coped. George's story was never spoken of by my Granny or her sisters, the last of whom died last week.
Do I know George any better now? It does occur to me that one of Granny's frequent quotes "money is (a necessary) evil" might imply she knew at least some of the story. Hope you're not in Hel double Great Grandpa - if God exists I would have thought a night of mental anguish followed by 6 hours dying from a bullet to the guts ought to more than cover it as far as suffering goes.
Time to stare at my sleeping children.

a big change for the littlest Norris

Up until now little Mr O has had the best early learning centre in the universe. He's done two mornings per week since he was just over 2 years old in the loving, stimulating, supportive and affirming care of Marieke and Melissa. For a long time he refered to the preschool as 'Melissa's house' such was his uninstitutionalised state. The centre was 200 metres from our house - and about 30 metres from his big bros school. It was announced late last week that the centre has to close. The main reason for the closure is the shortage of qualified early childhood educators on the Coast. They have spent thousands advertising nationally, the pressure on our wonderful head teacher was ridiculous (if she ever needed a sick day, the centre wasn't allowed to open). So, decisions made, conclusions communicated. I started out mostly gutted for me - preschool was one of the things that was really working for us! then I was gutted for Oscar - how unfair! complete change of all that has been 'his' work, completely out of his control, and he LOVES those women, it's HIS workplace. Now, having seen him waltz into an unfamiliar preschool claim a lump of yellw play dough and introduce himself to a band of 3 year old colleagues, now I am mostly angry on behalf of the staff who put so much of themselves into that centre. They rock, they really are flash.
And here is his curiousness with the todays back yard find the

biggest spiny stick insect yet:

I haven't completely forgotten about the 'grisly demise' chapter of the George Ashcroft writing, but for some reason I am putting it off.

blocks for boys

I've always been a fan of blocks - apart from the odd 'blow to the head' injury from Mr O (for some reason he's the clonker of the family) they have been the perfect preschool toy. Mr L taught me today that 7 is not too old for blocks. Since they have had separate rooms Mr L's room has been the lego space, and Mr O's room the block space - giving L a place to play uninterupted by 3 year old distructive energy was the main reason for separate rooms. So far L's has been by far the most popular spot with many a parental extraction of Mr O required. However today, against the trend, Mr O got busy with the blocks and impressed his big bro enough to lure him into the fun. Next time I popped in to check on them, concerned by a disturbing silence, this is what I found.

Little Mr O was totally zoned out and ready for a nap - L had used every block we own - now I finally feel justified for buying every stray block I've seen at the op shop over the last 7 years :-)

cat as hover craft

Mr Furpurrson our burmese has a delightful way of folding his legs and tail underneath him so neatly that it really looks as though he's just a smooth furry platform underneath. Like if he had to go anywhere he'd activate some kind of hover craft function and zip off.

Went to Left Bank art gallery on Friday. It was all lovely eye candy - but my favourites were Babara McQuarries' heligraph and quilted fabric art, and Sarah's awesome felt cards with kereru and kea and kiwi (check out her shop at .

A lego party

Today was party day!
Leo was really involved getting things ready from the moment he got up (6.30am!!) and had a great time.
Here's the cake:

- both boys were very excited.
I used the dimensions from http://www.thekitchn.com/thekitchn/tips-techniques/how-to-make-an-anatomically-correct-lego-cake-078117 but used my standard rich chocolate cake, and coloured pettinice with bright blue gel dye from Blanchfields.
My last minute additions resulted in a poorly placed candle - you can see the 7 sign is just about to catch fire.

Lukily no lego men were injured in the incident

We organised a bunch of games. Leo designed this super cool - pin the engine on the rocket ship - it's now got pride of place on the wall in his room. He is wearing his favourite costume ever PowerRanger a hand-me-down from his Auckland cousies - possibly a hand-me-down from their British cousies.

Bill organised a treasure hunt in the drizzle - every clue rhymed! The last birthday party Leo attended they had aerial photos of the property (it was at a farm) on the treasure hunt clues. We don't quite go to those lengths - but it was good to get the kids trapsing about outside...

The clue in the wood storage cage took the longest to find

Of course there was a lot of lego play between games and eating - so the last game we played was 'who can gather the most lego from the floor' race - stroke of genius I thought!

And finally here is Mr O who coped remarkably well with a house full of big kids - I think he thought I was going to take his cake! Amazing how he can wrinkle is brow so well without any eye brows.

George......... and random infant mutterings

I'll start with the infant ramblings because they are just so off the wall. After music group this morning Mr O -just turned 3- was sitting at the table eating his toast and peanut butter. He started with "I want my Daddy" - fair enough- we had passed said Daddy doing fascinating-for-a-small-boy home maintenance on our way in. Stalling I said "what do you want your daddy for?" to which he replied (and I quote) "I want to put him in the fridge for two hours, and then put him up there (gestures to window sill by the dining table) and we can eat him for our food. Thats funny! to cook a man! that's funny!.......... (wait for it) My Dad is a beautiful man". Now obviously I agree on that last point - but it's not the kind of thing I say - so it was very odd to hear it from the midgets mouth. Such are the entertainments of parenthood.

Back to George. When I last left him he was 17 and immigrating to New Zealand with his family. They settled in Nelson where his father held the important post of District Manager of railways. During his time in Nelson George met the young Helen Bush who he went on to marry.
In 1880 at the tender age of 21 George took up the post of Station Master in Dunedin a year after Dunedin was linked by rail to Christchurch. Dunedin had been growing quickly with seriews of gold rushes over the previous 10 years, Julius Vogel's immigration and development scheme brought thousands more before recession set in. The young Station Master was held in very high regard, in fact he was noted for his courtesy and consideration towards the travelling public at all times. Over the next years George transformed into a husband and father travelling to Nelson to marry Helen in 1882 followed by the birth of three children over the next four years Ronald (1883), Gladys (1884) and My Great Great Grandfather Basil in 1886).
George was successful in business early in his life and his three younger brothers also did very well for themselves. As well as his post as Station Master George was an enthusiastic volunteer for the Anglican Church, involved himself in the amateur dramatic club of Dunedin and was a member of the B Battery of field Artillery where he would have been involved in regular drills and training.
Early in 1889 George made some money out of mining speculations (the internet informs me that 'speculations' in this context means risky investments i.e. you hope you'll get a really good return but you risk losing your investment completely). His parents then returned to England - a much different concept that it is now that we have long haul flights, phones, skype etc. Shortly after his parents departure George had some less successful dealings getting himself in financial strife over mining speculations. Newspapers around this time reported that Mr Pyke - the Australian mining magnate with mining interests in Dunedin unsuccessfully attempted to float his mining business on the London Stock Exchange. It is possible that this is the venture George invested in - but I haven't been able to find details of the exact nature of his financial down fall except that it involved that very dodgy sounding "mining speculation". George's uncle James Ashcroft took an interest in his nephew's affairs - possibly at the request of his brother, George's absent father. Despite George's strong preference for privacy James was able to warm him early on of the dangers of speculating, and later to notice that George was unhappy and to link that observation with possible financial woes.
George died on the 22nd of December 1889 aged 30. I have more detail than I know what to do with on the events of that day - what they will add to my understanding of George I don't know.