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Wulfrunian Footprints in Fife (Paperback)
Minimal damage to the book cover eg. If this is a hard cover, the dust jacket may be missing. Binding has minimal wear. The majority of pages are undamaged with some creasing or tearing, and pencil underlining of text, but this is minimal. No highlighting of text, no writing in the margins, and no missing pages. See all condition definitions - opens in a new window or tab Read more about the condition. Take a look at our Returning an item help page for more details.
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See link below logo. The common decency of the honest working men that I have toiled alongside and my good family values are all I need to help put my thoughts into words. Because of my parents I have always thought of myself as being half-Scottish. I was schooled and raised in the town I was born in and played football on most of the football pitches in the area. I also trained myself to be marathon fit by running many miles on roads where generations of my family have travelled and passing by factories that they have worked in.
I was a very active young lad and the Royal Hospital, now redundant, was often having me as a patient.
Poetic Writing of Robbie Kennedy Bennett - Welcome to my thoughts in word
As kids my friends and I were finding out who we were when cutting our teeth in the streets and on the local playing fields around the Rough Hills. They sent me a copy and I experienced a strange feeling when reading it.
I had told them that I wanted to send the poem home, and there it was, in many a household in Fife. So, I know what my home town is and I have feelings for Scotland, but who am I? My parents had met during National Service and settled in my mothers home town of Wolverhampton. It was here in that I ran my first marathon.
Although proud of my midland roots and up bringing, I have always felt that there is more to me. Mar 06, You're a true Scot! Robbie, not only have you described some of the delights of St Andrews one of my favourite places in the whole world - but the Scottish blood in you runs deep. You may live in England; and for all I know you may have an English accent, but your love for Scotland and for Fife really shine through.
There's no doubt you are a Scot at heart. I recently found out that this part of the British coast was the winter fishing water of the Fishermen from Fife. As a young lad my favourite flag on my sand castle was the red rampant lion on a yellow background. That feeling never changed, and many years later I find myself returning to Fife as often as I can, too late to take my dad with me. I find that I can associate myself in that category and it reflects in my writing. The 19th century Edinburgh novelist and poet Robert Louis Stevenson understood the psychology of man and his mental make-up.
He said that he cherished the memory of his forebears, good or bad.
And there burns alive in him a sense of identity. Sense of identity for me came a few years ago when I was alone on the coast of St Andrews well after mid-night. I was there for work re-lated business and my family was back at home. Alone, yes but a right to be here and to feel as if it is a part of me. Afer all, my Dad was from Ladybank, not too far away. I can recall him mentioning Cupar and Auchtermuchty. Some town and village names of Fife often struck a cord when heard. On the coast of St Andrews that night, inner feelings of belonging, guilt and confusion surfaced.
My love for Scotland is apparent in my writing but I never lose sight of my Wulfrunian up-bringing. I am proud to be connected with family names that are scattered all around. The city of Wolverhampton has a documented history that goes back to AD. I live everyday a Wulfrunian way, And there is nothing that I want that is not mine Three days before Christmas I met my brothers in Wolverhampton for a festive drink.
At the end of the evening I awaited for the bus to Codsall opposite St Peters gardens. The church was a picture with the roof shining and the festive lights. My mind was taken back to All Saints School in When we played away games on Saturday mornings we met at St Peters gardens Wolverhampton, by the monument of the sailors head.
Further down the road I have a childhood memory of standing with my mother awaiting to see the Queen visiting Wolverhampton, the town of the famous Wanderers. A wanderer with a Scottish heart, A man divided in two. I believe that it would be wrong to forget my other ancestral side.
- Savoirs, N° 20 : LAccompagnement Dans le champ professionnel (French Edition).
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- The Coffin Ship.
Having lost my dad in when he was aged 59, I think that it is important that his grandchildren should not forget their Scottish ancestry background. Returning to the land where generations of my family have lived and toiled is inspirational. I can instantly see the St Andrews Saltire flag flying, or even stickers on cars and lorries on the motorway, it draws my attention from far away.
My football interest appears to have came from my Mother's side, her real Father having played in goal for Merthyr Tydfil. On her side is also Rowley, a name of football recognition. As a young lad I attended and played for the school football team, like family before me.
This was before the day of mini-soccer when teams played 11 v It was my first introduction to organised football and I had to learn the rules very quickly. I was a player from the year below and played on the right wing. The next day in school the headmaster would take me aside and again explain the offside rule. A Wanderer with a Scottish heart, and I know where my inspiration comes from, and it is not all from my Scottish side. It is about the realisation of having a past somewhere away from my place of birth.
Guilty feelings surfaced but I felt a belonging and an ancestral right to be there. My Mom has always been supportive of my brothers and I connecting with our Scottish side if we wish to. She loves Scotland herself and in April she was with me for her first visit to Ladybank, my Dad's village in Fife.