Saturday, 14 February 2015




 GOOSEBERRY'S ELDER STATESMAN LEAVES HIS ADOPTED PATCH


Tom with his winning berry
Tom McCartney, who has died, was  every bit a man of Goostrey and its famous gooseberries. He played a leading role in village life  for most of his 91 years.  Yet, this genial figure was not local born but  Cumbrian by birth. He  came to Cheshire by happy choice as best man at the wedding of his pal, Joe Sharpe, shortly after the end of World War 11. He stayed on at Joe’s suggestion to find work on the land, both in farming and as a landscape gardener, and met his wife, Hilda, 84, while working at the fruit farm in Twemlow. His passion for almost 66 years was growing gooseberries, most of the time in the garden of his home in Bank View. I am told his first show was at Goostrey in 1948, the year of the first post-war olympics, when he presented berries grown by the late Frank Carter's mother!   Although he had previously won the trophy for the premier berry at the Swettenham show, it was not until 2012 that he gained as the society's long-time president and  elder statesman the top place at Goostrey in a year with some  of the lowest berry weights on record. His Montrose berry  of 22 pennyweights 16 grains was a tiddler compared to  his golf-ball sized examples of other years. Even world champion Kelvin Archer could only pull off the top spot at Lower Withington with a berry weighing 27 pennyweights and four grains. Still, Tom was delighted with his success, taking away five trophies from the show. And as he said in that year of the Olympic games perhaps size didn’t matter after all – winning the show at the Crown after 64 years competing felt like becoming an Olympian! However, he went on to crown his success at the Swettenham Club show with a berry weighing 29 pennyweights and one grain to win  the Mid-Cheshire association's cup.No mean feat for a man of his years! Since his death, many tributes have been paid to Tom, one of them from Julie Ann Lockett, the first lady secretary
In the media spotlight
of the Goostrey show. She moved from the village in 1982 with her husband, Michael, and their family to settle, first in Texas and now in Grand Island, New York state.
Once a year after their departure, Tom kept in touch by post. "I always looked forward to receiving a little parcel every Christmas containing a Christmas card depicting a picture of Goostrey, along with a gossipy letter and the Gooseberry register," she emails. "He welcomed me into the club along with Grandad (Walter) Carter in the seventies when others were very suspicious of  'this woman secretary'.
Tom leaves his wife, Hilda, and their son, Michael, who lives in London.
His funeral is on Thursday, February 19, at Vale Royal Crematorium, Davenham, at 2.30pm and afterwards at the Red Lion, Goostrey.
+Double click on the pictures to enlarge.

Wednesday, 10 December 2014

Monday, 10 November 2014





DAVE FOUND VILLAGE LIFE IN GOOSTREY (and an old pal) A DREAM



Dave (left) in character role with Terry Price
  Probably it was on a visit to The Crown for a tipple or two, I first met Dave Garratt and his wife, Kathy. They had  been in Goostrey only for  a short time but they were already full on into community life and making friends fast. That was only a decade or so ago but Dave had slipped so seamlessly into the village to spend a well earned retirement, it may have been thought he had been among us for many years. Dave, who villagers will know by now, has sadly died aged 66, moved with Kathy to Goostrey in February 2004 from Milnrow, a pennine village near Rochdale. Like our village, Milnrow has a thriving community  where newcomers are warmly welcomed. So it was not without a lot of soul searching  the couple decided to leave their home of 30 years for new pastures and Dave's early retirement from head of an international transport company. Their choice of Goostrey was a fortuitous move. Neither was aware of its existence, but Dave, trawling the internet found, the house of their dreams in the centre of the village. And for both viewing the property for the first time from their car parked in Mill Lane it was love at first sight. The move to downsize was prompted by a mutual desire to leave a one-in-ten hillside environment for a house on the level. Saying good-bye to their many long-time friends and neighbours, however,  was a great wrench, but Kathy was assured by Dave that if she ever wanted go back it would not be a problem.
Dave (centre) writing the results at this year's show
Kathy, who worked in an estate agency, says: "I said I hoped we were not making a mistake but as soon as I walked across the road to the house I thought this is for me. I was worried about him because he  had worked 70 hours a week. It had always been work with him, but he loved Goostrey and it was here he learnt to relax. I went with him once or twice to the Crown because we knew no-one to begin with but that soon changed. We got to know a lot of people in the village as a result  and Dave  used to meet friends there on a Wednesday, Friday and Sunday almost until the week he passed away. He said from very early on here that there was no place like Goostrey and he did not want to move anywhere else". And the Gooseberry Show particularly appealed to him  as part of village life. So much so that as well as a novice grower with promise, he became secretary and was among the first to support its launch of a float as part of  Goostrey rose day. Dave's sense of fun always ensured it was a great success, and this year he was unabashed wearing a pink voluminous dress and curled wig as a character in its theme of the Wizard of Oz. When I started this blog,he was the first to sign up as a follower! A friend said: "You could not have met a nicer person than Dave. He would do a favour for anyone and his loss will be felt by many people in the village. When he became ill only weeks before he died, he made it clear he wanted no fuss and did not want to discuss it. He must have been suffering great discomfort at times but he continued almost to the end to meet his friends at the Crown. His bravery in the face of a terminal illness was incredible." Dave, who was born in Wythenshawe, was a lifelong Manchester City supporter and season ticket holder. He died soon after listening to City's defeat of United in their derby game."He did not have his eyes open but heard the game and he put his thumb up when they won," said Kathy. Since Dave's death, she says she has been swamped by kindness and the number of people offering support and calling at the door to offer condolences and with gifts of flowers and even food has been incredible. Kathy has also praised the care Dave received from the medical services and Holmes Chapel Health Centre since he was diagnosed with cancer. His funeral at Davenham Crematorium this Wednesday will be a celebration of his life. The coffin will be shouldered by former social friends from Milnrow known collectively as the Loonies.And so many friends and former colleagues have expressed a  wish  to speak about Dave and his life that twice the time has been allocated  to say farewell. Dave leaves his wife, Kathy, and their son, Lee, who lives in Derby, and daughter, Sara, from Brereton.
Graham Lenihan, a long-time friend of Dave and Goostrey Parish councillor, had known him since they were five-year-olds at school, but lost contact for some years. They were delighted to find they lived in the same village when they met up by chance at the Crown.
In an appreciation "My thoughts on my friend David Garratt" Graham recalls how they met at Rackhouse Junior School in Northern Moor, Wythenshawe, where Dave was noted for his football school skills and visits to headmaster Mr Leach to see the benefits of toeing the line! 
"During this time David became a scout and this was where we spent all our time, either in Wythenshawe Park playing wide games or camping. Here David excelled at British Bulldog! He moved on at 11 having passed the eleven plus and got a place at Wythenshawe Tech and then after O levels at 16 he became a shipping clerk in Manchester. It was then he met Kathy and was smitten with the girl  who was to become his lifelong love. David worked for different companies in Manchester until he got together with a couple of likely lads and started a business called Cardinal Maritime which has become one of the largest freight forwarding companies in the country. He was fanatical about Manchester City and loved Manchester, organising what became Old Gits days out. We visited the roughest parts of the town, and if we go together with the 'Rochdale Mafia and Choir' there were experiences that can only be described as surreal! After David and Kathy moved to Milnrow their circle of friends became even bigger. David was the sort of friend that we all look to have. He would do anyone a favour. Always buying his round at the bar. He was a gentleman. OK he wasn't perfect - he could not sing and his dancing was not up to the standard for Strictly. But David Garratt was heck of a true gentleman and one hell of a nice guy!









Tuesday, 19 August 2014







Jasper Carrot




RAISED UNDER A GOOSEBERRY BUSH!

All the big berries have long since gone but you never know what you might come across under a  Gooseberry bush in a Goostrey  garden. Emma Williams was clearing  weeds from around her trees  when she found this many legged carrot  lurking  among the tangled foliage. With the addition of a pair of eyes it looks like some extra terrestrial character that got lost on its way to Jodrell Bank.! But Emma, a member of Goostrey Gooseberry Show, thinks she must have dropped a packet of seeds among her prize-winning bushes and this diminutive carrot with the trace of a smile on its face is the result. He has been been called Jasper - and saved from the pot!
*Tap or click on image to enlarge
See also:
www.countynewsandpicturepost.blogspot.com
This site www.blogsfromthebongs.blogspot.com





Thursday, 7 August 2014

The summer holidays are upon us so I thought it would do no harm to run this Blog from 2014 if anyone fancies a great day out with the kids. Take your bikes and use the old rail track for an outstanding traffic-free ride! Have checked the details and Carole is still making her cakes!

CAROLE'S BAKING IS MANIFOLD IN THE VALLEY
Carole with one of the sponges she bakes 

A smell of baking always stirs nostalgia and memories from childhood of home made bread and cakes. These days it is also found in supermarkets where fans blast out the aroma from so called in-store bakeries, or more deliciously in artisan shops  like Mandeville's in Holmes Chapel. Until recently my son-in-law Adrian was a bit of a dab hand at baking cakes at BH. But since  a new cooker was introduced he has lost the plot. I am afraid like King Alfred  he has abandoned hope of becoming  Goostrey's rival to Mary Berry after a series of burnt offerings came forth from the oven. Now to my sheer enjoyment of  childhood memories a trip the other day to the Manifold Valley in the Staffordshire Peak District with brother and sister-in-law, Richard and Sylvia, was as memorable for home baking as the beauty of its landscape. I must admit despite some years of working in the Potteries,

Visitors enjoy the grounds and scenic views from Ilam Hall
 I was only vaguely aware of the Manifold Valley. It was only when my daughter, Emma, took a wrong turning several weeks ago on a trip to visit the John Smedley woollen mill in Derbyshire, we found ourselves in this corner of  hidden England  I vowed to return to explore its delights. We trio on a day out less than an hour's run from home base arrived at the visitor centre in Hulme End at the head of the valley just in time to find freshly-baked scones being drawn from the oven in the adjoining Tea Junction tea-room. A bustling Carole Davies was in charge of cooking - hence a smell of fresh baking to die for in what was the engine shed of the old Manifold light railway. Carole takes it in turns in the kitchen with the owner, Rebecca Simcock, to provide hungry visitors and walkers with a real taste of home. And it is all served like a "proper do," as we used to say when I was a lad, in real china teacups and plates and a pot of tea provided by Laura Grindey that would have done twice as many! My companions opted for Carole's still warm scones but I couldn't resist a hefty slice of lemon drizzle cake! Carole says apart from the regulars they have visitors from all over the world as well  as home-grown tourist, and everyone thinks it is - a wonderful oasis!
Butterton church
12th cent Ilam church
We left Carole and the temptations of her tea room to explore the valley, a compact  eight miles long and perhaps four miles at its widest. Within its boundaries is some of the finest scenic country to be found in these islands. A gaggle of  tiny villages, some no-more than a hamlet, with names like Waterfall, Ilam, Warslow and Butterton rise from narrow lanes which flow on popular days with booted walkers and cycling couples and children, many of them taking the now unused rail line in complete safety. At Ilam Hall, the National Trust maintain a caravan site in what must be one of the most picturesque places to pitch in the country, nestling between limestone hills and woodland. Spending a few minutes in the visitor centre at Hulme End provided us with all the information we needed for our day's exploration. And, yes, there was time for another cuppa before we left this iconic spot. In the ancient Warslow village church a notice invites visitors to brew their own and pop a donation in the box towards the repair of the tower!
*I wouldn't like anyone to be disappointed if they visit the valley - the tea room is open March to October, Tuesday - Sunday, 10am to 5pm and  closed December and January.Telephone 01298 687368.The visitor centre is closed Mondays except for Bank Holidays,
In Warslow church visitors invited to tea

Link the new sister site: www.countynewsandpicturepost.blogspot.com 









The summer holidays are upon us so I thought it would do no harm to run this Blog from 2014 if anyone fancies a great day out with the kids. Take your bikes and use the old rail track for an outstanding traffic-free ride! 

CAROLE'S BAKING IS MANIFOLD IN THE VALLEY
Carole with one of the sponges she bakes 

A smell of baking always stirs nostalgia and memories from childhood of home made bread and cakes. These days it is also found in supermarkets where fans blast out the aroma from so called in-store bakeries, or more deliciously in artisan shops  like Mandeville's in Holmes Chapel. Until recently my son-in-law Adrian was a bit of a dab hand at baking cakes at BH. But since  a new cooker was introduced he has lost the plot. I am afraid like King Alfred  he has abandoned hope of becoming  Goostrey's rival to Mary Berry after a series of burnt offerings came forth from the oven. Now to my sheer enjoyment of  childhood memories a trip the other day to the Manifold Valley in the Staffordshire Peak District with brother and sister-in-law, Richard and Sylvia, was as memorable for home baking as the beauty of its landscape. I must admit despite some years of working in the Potteries,

Visitors enjoy the grounds and scenic views from Ilam Hall
 I was only vaguely aware of the Manifold Valley. It was only when my daughter, Emma, took a wrong turning several weeks ago on a trip to visit the John Smedley woollen mill in Derbyshire, we found ourselves in this corner of  hidden England  I vowed to return to explore its delights. We trio on a day out less than an hour's run from home base arrived at the visitor centre in Hulme End at the head of the valley just in time to find freshly-baked scones being drawn from the oven in the adjoining Tea Junction tea-room. A bustling Carole Davies was in charge of cooking - hence a smell of fresh baking to die for in what was the engine shed of the old Manifold light railway. Carole takes it in turns in the kitchen with the owner, Rebecca Simcock, to provide hungry visitors and walkers with a real taste of home. And it is all served like a "proper do," as we used to say when I was a lad, in real china teacups and plates and a pot of tea provided by Laura Grindey that would have done twice as many! My companions opted for Carole's still warm scones but I couldn't resist a hefty slice of lemon drizzle cake! Carole says apart from the regulars they have visitors from all over the world as well  as home-grown tourist, and everyone thinks it is - a wonderful oasis!
Butterton church
12th cent Ilam church
We left Carole and the temptations of her tea room to explore the valley, a compact  eight miles long and perhaps four miles at its widest. Within its boundaries is some of the finest scenic country to be found in these islands. A gaggle of  tiny villages, some no-more than a hamlet, with names like Waterfall, Ilam, Warslow and Butterton rise from narrow lanes which flow on popular days with booted walkers and cycling couples and children, many of them taking the now unused rail line in complete safety. At Ilam Hall, the National Trust maintain a caravan site in what must be one of the most picturesque places to pitch in the country, nestling between limestone hills and woodland. Spending a few minutes in the visitor centre at Hulme End provided us with all the information we needed for our day's exploration. And, yes, there was time for another cuppa before we left this iconic spot. In the ancient Warslow village church a notice invites visitors to brew their own and pop a donation in the box towards the repair of the tower!
*I wouldn't like anyone to be disappointed if they visit the valley - the tea room is open March to October, Tuesday - Sunday, 10am to 5pm and  closed December and January.Telephone 01298 687368.The visitor centre is closed Mondays except for Bank Holidays,
In Warslow church visitors invited to tea

Link the new sister site: www.countynewsandpicturepost.blogspot.com 









Monday, 4 August 2014

Special News blog to mark 1914


LEST WE FORGET THE VILLAGE FALLEN

I think it would be amiss of me if I didn't mention today's historic day, the outbreak of the Great War 100 years ago on August 4 1914. Goostrey's cenotaph to the fallen in St Luke's churchyard has a wreath and crosses placed there to remember those from the village and near communities who died during the terrible conflict that lasted until 1918.
Goostrey cenotaph
 There are not many names inscribed on the sandstone memorial but with a population then many hundreds fewer than now, the impact of the losss on families and friends  in  the community must have been devastating.
 Even when I was born World War 1 was of recent history and there were still many who vividly recalled the horrors of the trenches and the sheer slaughter of battles like the Somme and Ypers. 
My grandfather, John Smith, on my mother's side served in the Boer War as well as the Great War but sadly I have little knowledge of his service. I do know that he was said to have suffered sun stroke in South Africa and then he was badly wounded in World War 1.
 Eventually with, what I can only think  of as shell shock, he was detained in a Manchester mental hospital for the rest of his days. It was a sad end to a proud man who served his country with distinction like thousands of others. My mother once took me to visit him.  I recall a military looking of elderly gentleman with bushy white hair and penetrating blue eyes.
 I watched in fascination as he used a penknife to strip the complete peel from an apple in one piece, but I remember nothing more of  the visit. To her dying day, my grandmother kept at home his medals, a pistol he was said to have carried in the war and a rifle I presume came from the Boer War. She would bring them out to let us handle as a treat. if we grandchildren were  especially good. Somewhere I have a photograph of him in uniform and  I would dearly like to find it but my cousin Peter Yates in Essex has dipped into an archive and produced one for the blog.
Waiting to go over the top on the Somme
Another hero of the war was one of my first editors as a young reporter in Wilmslow. He was called Fred Fletcher and suffered all his life from the effects of a gas attack at the front but  he was never heard to complain. He would breeze into the office on th dullest of winter days, walking stick in hand, and take in a deep breath as if to say it was still good to be alive! I believe he died in harness in his seventies.

+Click images to enlarge
John Smith