Rupe's Maine Frame

Sudden Death of a Beloved Friend

2007-06-02T17:06:00.000+01:00

" Hi Darling, all is beautiful in the land of Robert Graves.........it's perfect here, take care and see you soon xxx"

This is the message on a post card received today. But D died 2 days ago in Majorca. He was in his mid fifties. He had eaten a good lunch, had drunk a glass of fine wine. Went to sleep in an armchair, and didn't wake up.

His career had been in the music business, at one time he worked for Linda and Paul McCartney, and Warner Bros. He was Freddie Mercury's first male love.

He was my best friend, he had masses of friends who loved him. We are all speaking to each other, all shocked all devastated. He loved us all.
He was a wonderful cook and his greatest pleasure was feeding us.

He made a special birthday lunch for me every year.. made Christmas cakes for his friends each year. I still have a bottle of sloe vodka he made last year.

Rosie only allowed him to stroke and pet her. She's never let my son touch her.

He'd had major heart surgery in his late thirties, so his stressful worklife was
curtailed.

He was about 50% of my life. That has has gone forever.

My son loved him. I hated him going away. He was the first person I spoke to on my mobile 'phone after my sudden exit from The Sunday Times, he lived near Wapping and we went for celebratory lunch, I didn't quite know whether to laugh or cry.

He died with a little smile on his face, and all of his friends male and female are weeping.

I am utterly heartbroken, and don't know how this terrible emptiness and grief will ever leave me.

Mohammed My Lovely Taxi Driver, more deaths including MY CAR

2007-05-12T20:31:00.000+01:00

Quite a lot has happened since I last had a moan here.
First, the very talented art teacher MBE who lived next door has died after being run over....and being in intensive care for months. Very sad.

A lady, Susan,who lived opposite was Denholm Eliots widow she was an alcoholic, very tall and slim would ofen be seen walking shakily up the road...began to share her house with two extremely strange people with spikes sticking out of their noses and cheeks and ears, and had daily hair colour changes. Well the poor woman had a stroke and went into a sort of care home, set herself alight and died. Meanwhile the two strange ones are still living in the house.

If you read Gavin's board you'll know I had car crash...not my fault. My darling old car went to heaven to join my black banana phone and beautiful coffee soaked lap top, in heaven.

So awaiting a replacement car, I had a lot of taxis, which proved extremely interesting. I had two Muslim drivers who were the kindest, most charming men I have ever had the pleasure to meet. I kept calling my favourite Mohammed,.. sweetheart. I asked my other Muslim driver who prefers an English sounding name whether he though Mohammed would have taken offence at my familiarity. The answer was affirmative. So next time I apologised to Mohammed and kept forgetting my manners and was soon calling him Darling. OH dear.
Anyway the bad day arrived when a horrid small smelly smoky battered cab arrived driven by an English person who smelled of drink, was unshaven and perfectly vile.
Fortunately it was a short journey. Unfortunately I always have to sit beside the
driver as I get sick in the back.

Anyway, 2 days ago my black shiny 2nd hand car arrived. I drove salesman back to his HQ a few miles away. I dropped him off,and caught my left thumb in the seat belt connection and tore my thumb nail right off. It looked bloody, and it was agony.
Got home, could hardly take my clothes off...took overdose pain killers and went to bed. Oh bye the way I am 100% allergic to wasp stings and got stung on tip of finger, saving my cat who had her nose up it's bottom. Well, after a lot of anti hystemines, and Doc warning me I have to carry injectons around with me I recovered, just in time for a car crash.

Just thought I'd write all this down.

GOD'S WAITING ROOM

2007-03-20T10:52:00.000Z

This is Highgate Cemetary, a few minutes from where I live.

This may be quite depressing, but it's a slice of life in a quite ordinary tree lined avenue
in a very quiet place 3 minutes from Parliament Hill.
The houses are terraced, Edwardian, and each house is different to any other in the street.
Some are on three floors, some on two.
There are small patio gardens, and front gardens, small but well cared for and always
flowering, except for mid-winter.

I have lived here for 30 years. I wanted a smaller place in Primrose Hill, but ny father hated it and said my desk wouldn't fit. He was right, and he found me my present home, telling me I'd be safe. The ceilings are high and I have many books.

Returning to my subject.

My neighbours have mostly lived here the same length of time as I have.
We are a mixture of teachers, a lawyer, architect....two wonderful men, Wally a former taxi driver, and Bob a former builder....both fought in 2nd world war.
Lovely wives. Slowly, slowly they have sold their cars, have the odd day out in Brighton. I see they have more difficulty walking year by year. Most use walking sticks now, and I remember them as vigourous men.

Next door a well known art teacher.....slightly barmy wife, who had a nervous breakdown in my home. Her very handsome husband would be drinking and cavorting locally with admiring young ladies. One day wife found him on floor after suffering major stroke. So their roles were reversed, he was in hospital for months, and then helpless at home. However slowly he began to walk very slowly with a stick and was soon awarded an MBE. He was painting again, he was making progress.
Last year, at night, slowly crossing the main Highgate Road....he was run over and has been on life support ever since. That was about a year ago. Meanwhle his wife has had several malignant tumours removed.

Across the road lives a wondeful man called Del, he still works as an upholsterer.
He had 2 small sons. The youngest Ian, washed my car, he grew up and went to Australia, married and had 5 childen. Del has another son who lives nearbye..he has 2 sons now and Del acts as Grandma and Grandpa, as his very sweet wife died a few years ago.

In the past 2 years people who I saw and spoke to passing in the road have vanished.
Wally, who knows everything told me 2 have died, and one is in a home.

Jill was a successful teacher, she started to limp badly...she needed a hip replacement...she had to wait nearly 2 years for the op. which had been postponed time after time. Because of the long wait the op was a failure and had to be re-done. Because the extra weight on her good hip...well that that is now collapsing and she needs another op on that one.

Another neighbour was stabbed to death by her mentally disturbed neice.

Dogs have died, cats too. Everyone is getting visibly older. I find it extrememly upsetting, and I haven't told you half of it.

Three other neighbours have died in the past 5 years. My next door neighbour on other side is an alcohlic, married to a lawyer, who lost most of his money with Equitable Life, so is still working. He spends hours polishing his shoes in his patio every morning.

I could go on and on, but I'll stop now.

I keep wondering who will be next.

THIS IS A TEST

2007-03-04T20:03:00.000Z

HELLO. Haven't used my bloggy as I had to re-sign to GooGoo. So just testing to see if it works.

David Beckham......I Love You

2007-01-10T18:25:00.000Z

I should be a football expert to write anything intelligent about this man who I have adored since he first began playing for Moan U. Although I disliked the club, and their red faced, gum chewing, boot throwing manager. David Beckham, for me, stood out on his own.

I was a fan since the beginning. A close friend wrote a long article about him for The Sunday Times Magazine, she spent hours with him, travelling by car to Manchester.
She told me he was just a wonderful person, polite, very natural, and very lovable.

I rejoiced when he became Captain of my beloved England, sadly I was never overwhelmed with Sven. Oh well, that's another story. When Ferguson threw that boot at him, I wanted to kill that red faced monster.

Then to Real Madrid, and I followed his career thru' the Real website. I checked it out every week.

The most recent World Cup disaster knocked me for six. The England team were my passion, and the whole thing was just painfully horrible. I blame Sven, the FA,
the team, but never David, who always worked his guts out. In any case he got injured before the bluddy end.

I lost a few tears when he resigned as Captain, retaining his dignity to the last.

Then that vile untalented Steve McLaren was mis-chosen as England's new coach, instead of the multi talented Martin O'Neill....he just sacked David from the team, cold bloodedly and cruelly.

David is a wonderful father, is kind and charitable, and I love him and hope he
has a happy and successful life. OK he's made a ton of money, but he loves playing his football. Good Luck to him.

Anne of Cleves, by Hans Holbein.

2007-01-08T16:09:00.000Z

This is a wonderful portrait I saw at Tate Britain. Painted by Hans Holbein the Younger. Henry V111 was looking for a new bride and sent Holbein to paint Anne of Cleves, so that he knew what she looked like.

However, Henry wrote to Cromwell on his wedding day,

"My Lord, if it were not to satisfy the world and my Realm, I would not do that I must do this day for no earthly thing"

Anne was Henry's fourth wife, it was a brief marriage, much to the relief of both spouses.
Henry referred to his bride"Flanders Mare"

He told his Ambassadors and courtiers he could not perform his marital duties
because of Anne's appearance.

They were both relieved when the marriage was dissolved, and Anne was given several homes, including Hever Castle and a generous allowance. She often visited Henry's court as an honoured guest.

Holbein died about 5 years later in London from the plague.

You will see she looks very good in this painting, but Holbein had flattered her,
and posed her in such a way, sort of leaning slightly forward hands placed in rather a provocative way.

HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYBODY

2006-12-29T15:59:00.000Z

Hello All, just to wish you a very happy, healthy NEW YEAR.

So, to all my cyber friends, much happiness to all of you for 2007, and I hope that all our pets keep well. love from Rupe and Rosie xx

LOST:- ALL EMAILS

2006-12-21T09:14:00.000Z

IF YOU KNOW MY PERSONAL EMAIL ADDRESS>>>>>>please email me so I can put it in my address book. Thanks.

BUGGER (not sorry)

2006-12-15T18:39:00.000Z

This is only way I can stay in contact with anybody. So you can leave message her for me to answer.
I have given expalation on previous post here on blog.

Problem for me is I cannot believe how vile and sick I feel not having email, not being able to post on Gavin's board......I get peculiar message from Windows, asking whether I want to change password. I can't do any of this without computer guy, hope it will all be solved to next week.

Meanwhile I would say I am rather hysterical......which is a bit bloody pathetic.

My Poor Blog is having a rest.....

2006-12-14T14:40:00.000Z

Due to the loss of all my photo's and illustrations, all 18 months worth.
I have decided to have little break whilst I recover.

I had a funny illustration to Wish You A Happy Christmas, but it's gone too.

I HATE THE BBC.

2006-11-28T16:22:00.000Z

The BBC are closing down the Science and Nature Message Boards.
This is an act of evil barbarism.
At one time we had a pet message board, then they closed that down and called it Wildlife. It has been a source of endless interest and help for me regarding my cat.
Saving many visits to the Vet.
What a lot of mean people. I despise them.

Death of a Beloved Mobile 'Phone...what a morning !

2006-11-22T12:35:00.000Z

This morning my beautiful black Nokia mobile "Banana" 'phone which I have owned for 10 years has irrevocably broke down.

Then one of my tyres exploded, damaging the bumper, so my car is out of action.

I had bought three DVD's at HMV, and when I finally got home, they had vanished.

To cap it all, I lost a brand new black leather glove.

I am staying at home for the rest of the day.

Happy Christmas

2006-11-14T16:02:00.000Z

HAPPY erm ....CHRISTMAS !

DESERT ORCHID

2006-11-14T13:28:00.000Z

I wish I had a photograph of this brave and beautiful horse. I wish I knew how to find one and put it up here. There is a beauty on the front page of the Mirror this morning.

I wish I knew why I am so upset at the death of of this gallant inspiring lovely animal.

TWENTY YEARS AFTER

2006-11-04T18:24:00.000Z

This is 200, Grays Inn Road. The home of The Sunday Times, twenty years ago.

This was my home for nearly 30 years. The Guardian occupied one floor, and this is the newspaper for which I worked continually for a couple of years. The picture editor of The Guardian trained me, a young kid knowing exactly nothing. But he always had faith. I was so green that I didn't know that I could have have used their film, and they would have paid my train fares. So for a couple of years I paid for myself. Saving the Guardian a lot of money, and they never told me what I was entitled to. I wouldn't have cared, I was having my photographs published day after day.

Tthe Sunday Times photographers used the same darkrooms, and eventually their picture editor grabbed me and I began to work for The Sunday Times, having to give up the odd assignment for The Observer. In 1966 Harry Evans had arrived and alsthough he doesn't remember, he sent me to photograph Cassius Clay, soon to be Mohammed Ali. Clay was having a practice bout in Wembley, and all the press were invited. I was the only woman. I was always the only woman. It was that wonderful day I took one of the best photographs of my life. All the press were invited into his dressing room to see him being rubbed down.

However I was forbidden, but he chatted to me later and said he'd never seen a woman photographer before.

In 1968, I joined the staff of the Sunday Times. At that time this newspaper under the leadership of Harold Evans became the best in the world.

To cut the longest story short, as time passed the print unions would disrupt the paper and we never knew whether there would be a paper or not. So Saturday after tense painful Saturday nights, we would all wait listening for the sound of the printing presses. Often there was just nothing. Eventually after ructions and anguish, the management closed us down.

We the journalists were paid all the time the paper was closed. We would go to our meetings, and some of us produced a newspaper for the press so they would know what was happening. Apart form working on our newspaper, I cleared wastepaper baskets.

The stoppage drew all the staff closer together.

After nearly a year, the paper came back.

Then the journalists on The Times lead by Paul Routledge, who had been paid throughout the stoppage went on strike.

This was a disaster. Lord Thomson who had been a benevolent proprieter had had enough and we were up for sale.

Everything seems a bit of a blur now, but rumours of an Evans led buy out and a lot of other stories abounded and speaking for myself it was an agonising time.

January 22nd. 1981, I was sent to a press conference. It was hush hush. I arrived early in a large room filled with TV crews from all over the world.....I sat myself in the front row, shaking like a leaf. In walked Rupert Murdoch, The Sunday Times editor Harold Evans, and the Times editor William Rees Mogg.

I was weeping. It was all over. And it was.

Our move to Wapping was a nightmare, and even now I can't talk about the riots, the coffins arriving at various homes, a lot of journalists left. But I stayed.

Our building was sold, and before it was vacated I went in with a pile of huge industrial pens...felt tipped..in black and red...and drew weeping hearts over every white wall, writing silly loving words.

One day on the way to Wapping, passing our building in Grays Inn Road, I saw it was being knocked down, I stopped and took this photograph.

200 Grays Inn Road is now home to ITN, Channel 4 News, Channel 5 News.

P.S . When Harry Evans saw my photographs of the press conference, when it was announced that Murdoch had purchased The Sunday Times, he told me to hide them as they could not be published or even seen as they said something which could be detrimental !!

Murdoch was very clever, he knew Wapping was was his guarded secret and he moved Harry away from The Sunday Times, to edit The Times, therebye isolating him away from his loyal army so there would be no possibility of Evans and us refusing to go.

After a few years, Murdoch sacked Harry, and he(Harry Evans) scrawled a note to me, written on the way to Heathrow, (which I still have)....saying it was my photographs which foretold the awful truth....and please could he have them. So I posted them to New York. where he was living.

About 18 months later, when Andrew Neil was editing our paper, I telephoned the newsroom at The Sunday Times late Saturday night as I wanted to know if a particular photo had been used.

The answer shocked me to the core "We are all stunned because there is a huge photograph of yours right over the front page of The Observer, which was publishing the first extract of Harry's book, "Good Times Bad Times." I nearly fainted. I though I'd get sacked, but I didn't.

The Sunday Times sent The Obsever a huge bill, and the Observer's picture editor took me out to lunch !!

This particular photograph is now framed in Harry's office in New York !

It is also on my website.

Bloody Halloween, Bloody Fireworks, AND Rosie is driving me mad.!

2006-10-27T13:07:00.000+01:00

Yesterday went to local supermarket having to buy stacks of packets of sweets for protection from the vile marauding hooded gangs of little and large monsters who make Halloween a horror around here.
They are all ready by an upstairs window so I'll be hanging out throwing the sweets before these witches and masked devils chuck eggs at my front door.

Fireworks have already started their their banging, louder and earlier each year, turning Rosie more barmy than ever.

And to cap it all, the clocks go back, which means that Rosie will be standing on me at 4 am instead of 5 am......wanting her breakfast. I always think that she'll regulate herself to time changes. Oh really?, I'll soon be feeding her breakfast the night before.

Terrorist Attack 1974, Israel

2006-10-11T19:20:00.000+01:00

May 15th, 1974. Ma'alot

Israel's Independence Day.
A group of 11th grade students were sheltering for the night at a school after a hike.
During the night 3 terrorists dressed as Israeli soldiers attacked the school.

6 a.m. I had 'phone call from Government Press Office, as did every photographer, journalist, and TV crew working at that time in Israel.

Israel is tiny, so it didn't take long to race north from Tel Aviv.

Negotiations for release were going on all day, enough time for more journalists to arrive from abroad. There were hundreds of us.

At 5.45 pm a unit of the elite Golani Brigade stormed the building.

21 children were killed.

I rushed to Tel Aviv with my films
as they had to be developed and seen by the military censor.
To make sure no soldiers faces could be seen. A lot of my photo's were not allowed out of the country. However this one was, plus others.

I drove to the airport and sent my package to the The Sunday Times in London. This photograph was not published.

2006-10-03T23:22:00.000+01:00

A NIGHT OF MAGIC WITH MY FLUFFY INVADER..........

After two husbands, snoring, making odd noises.......a soft, fluffy, quiet purring monster of a cat is my perfect cuddle. OK...I don't have that much room in my (HER) bed but I am enslaved.

At 5 a.m. a paw bashes me somewhere convenient...time for her food.

Up I get, and then there is an hour long procedure...because she is such a greedy pig, I have to feed her very very slowly, otherwise she gobbles it up and is sick.

We both go back to bed...I always try to get there first...to get the best position, and I fail each time. I switch on the radio so I can't hear her tiny moans.

She's still hungry you see, and she also want a cuddle.. So when I look into the mirror every exhausted day......

I do realise I need to be locked up somwhere.

BUT WHAT CAN I DO???? I'm in love

P.S. She's been on a Vet ordered diet which does not agree with her and she has put on ONE POUND in ONE MONTH. Poor Rosie.

A CHAT WITH MY THIEF....

2006-09-29T11:14:00.000+01:00

I have had my car raided about 20 times in 25 years.

Always my own fault.

I sometimes forget to lock my car.

I have always known it was the same person.
Over the years all my CD's were stolen.
They knew where I hid coins for parking meters.
Multitudes of other stuff was stolen.

Once a huge tripod was stolen....the police retrieved it the same afternoon.
A valuable set of hallogen lights were taken after I'd got home late night after lighting
a large area of National History Museum, photographing an unpronouncable massive head
of an extinct reptile.

About 8 years ago the local police telephoned me and asked me to pay a visit
to Kentish Town Police Station, to identify something.

They had a case which had contained a pair of sun glasses. I had written my name inside the lid
plus the name of my newspaper. The police had traced me.
So there I was in a small interview room, with a police officer and a pile of interesting looking papers in a see thru' plastic envelope. The officer had forgotten the case, and left the room to locate it.
He was gone for about 3 minutes, in which time I found the name and address of the suspect.
Earlier the officer had correctly refused the identity of the suspect.

The officer returned and I told him never to trust a journalist, and indeed the case was mine.

The thief lives in a mansion flat 5 minutes away, and after asking questions to various neighbours and locals, I discovered he was a well know thief and had spent time in and out of prison.

Two weeks ago my car was raided again, there was nothing to steal except a rather beautiful hand carved walking stick which I used a couple of times after a bit of surgery.

Of course by now I knew what he looked like. I watched him walking his 2 massive dangerous looking dogs, with huge gold studded harnesses on them.....he would walk the street looking inside the cars, sizing them up for future visits.

Anyway two days ago, I spoke to him...and said something like...
" Hello...lovely dogs.....look you know this area, my car has been raided recently and a lovely walking stick was taken......if you hear anything, please tell me "

OK, so yesterday afternoon, the door bell rang. I opened an upstairs window....it was my thief.

" Just to tell you, you've left you car door open"

I thanked him very much.

BLOGGERITIS:------

2006-09-24T19:51:00.000+01:00

Maine Frame

I have a new ailment.

I have called it BLOGGERITIS.

Symptoms:-

From sitting at computer nearly all the time, my bad knee is 100 times worse. Knee cap had to be strapped into place a few days ago.

From checking computer at 5 a.m. when Fatty Pang(Rosie)
wakes me, instead of going back to sleep, I read all the blogs.
So I'm half dead most of the time.

Worrying about what I'm going to write next.

Eyesight weakening.

Cat not getting the ususal attention, so quacking, moans, groans, banging doors with her paws and generally behaving disgracefully. Eating spiders and Daddy Long Legs, and specially being sick so I have to spend a long time cleaning etc.

Worrying whether Gavin will let me email some funny stuff I've found, and put it on my blog when the time comes.

Arranging with my nice computer teacher to come and collect stuff to scan and email it to me, so that poor heroic Gavin will
put it on my blog.

Wonder what I can give Gavin to compensate him for his help.

Increasing painkillers, valium to deal with even more symptoms of distress.

Making excuses to friends and family that I am too busy to see them.

That's all for now folks, got to take a pill.

NEW SERIES:........Joke Of The Month

2006-09-21T07:42:00.000+01:00

Moses and Jesus play golf.
Moses tees offwith a superb 250 yard drive.
Then Jesus drives off and as the ball soars into the air it's caught in the beakof a passing
eagle who's flying in the direction of the green.
He drops it into the pouch of a squirrel on the ground who runs to the flag
and pops it into the hole.
Moses turns to Jesus: " Look " he asks "do you want to play golf or do you want to mess around?"

Party Conference Time

2006-09-20T18:34:00.000+01:00

This used to be my favourite time of the year.

I would have to go to a health farm (don't laugh) for a few days before the marathon.

I would begin at TUC conference, which was my favourite.....over about 10 years I got to know all the union leaders, and became great friends with...don't faint.. Arthur Scargill.
I knew he had a reputation for hating the press...but I went to sit next to him, introduced myself, and said I'd be watching him with massive lens, and was that OK? he was so surprised I'd asked him first that for years we were friends. Until my newspaper went to Wapping, and then even lovely Neil Kinnock wouldn't see me anymore.

But back to the season I miss so much.
Then the Liberals, apart from Jo Grimond (remember??)...very boring..but it was always terrific to meet up with all the radio and TV commentators, and a terrific bunch of political editors and commentators. We were all very friendly, but I think I was the only one of the photographers who was really interested in what was going on.
I was certainly the only woman photographer at that time, also there was little security, which was all changed when the Brighton bomb went off.
Then it was the Labour Party, it was brilliant, there were always rows..and I knew exactly what was going on so my pictures tried to tell a story. Which was appreciated by my Editor the very
great and wonderful Harry Evans.
I was present when David Owen, Shirley Williams and Co....were having little huddles, I photo'd that. ...... and this was the begining of the SDP.
So the following year there was another conference to cover. The SDP.

Then the Tory Party....BRILLIANT...there they all were, me with my new Nikon 300mm lens, first in UK, brilliant resolution, being teased by all the other photographers, saying I was mad.
It was unbearably heavy, and I always wore high heels (I'm paying for that idiocy now)
Apart from pouncing on all the cabinet all in front of me, I was photo'ing Margaret Thatcher.
My newspaper had "put" their only woman photographer with her, the future Prime Minister...and the of course the PM.....so all these funny, sarcastic photographs would be spread out Sunday after Sunday.....Harry Evans killing himself laughing.
It was such a great time, the cameraderie.....ghastly hotels.....total exhaustion.

It all ended for me when the bomb went off in Brighton. I'll write about that one day.
Everything changed....high security....many more photographers jostling for the best seat...which I always bagged as I was always first inside conference halls....I had to be, they were all huge tall men who used to push me around.......of course very quickly they all had that wonderful huge lens they had teased be about.

One day at the Picture Desk, I got out this lens and was checking it out when I held it to focus ...
...and shock..sadness..horror....I couldn't hold it anymore. So I never went to another conference. The last time I saw Thatcher was when I went to see her at Downing St. a few days before she was disposed of. Someone had sent 5000 roses...five thousand.
It was very sad actually, I'd followed her to various summits....seen how brave she was after the bomb at Brighton....she knew me quite well, but never knew my name.

I sold my beautiful lens.

Rudolf Nureyev

2006-09-20T12:55:00.000+01:00

I don't know whether this will work, so I'll just post this and continue... I've had some valium so I may fall asleep ! Please press COMMENT to read about Rudolf the Divine.

Rosie is a very beautiful Maine Coon cat

2006-09-19T17:46:00.000+01:00

This is Rosie lying on my (her) bed !!!
This post is a picture test.

The beginning of the blog.

2006-09-18T17:54:00.000+01:00

Which is where it all starts...