Saturday, June 27, 2009


When I decided to blog again my biggest problem was what to name the blog.
Close to my heart are various humanitarian, political and social issues; however, every name I came up with that spoke to one of those issues was taken. Then I thought I would go with my first and last name or variations thereof. It turns out I am not as unique as I thought I was. So I went with my first name and a family name, Charlton. Because Charlton's are also close to my heart.
On my Dad's side of the family we are Charlton's, my paternal grandmother was extremely proud of having been a Charlton. Charlton's are strong and independent survivors. I learned we are descended from a clan that lived on the English Scottish border and were known as the border reivers. To follow is my favorite Charlton story:
The River Tyne is found in England and flows east into the North Sea. It has two main tributaries, the North Tyne and the Rede, and in the valleys of these two rivers lived the most active and the most feared of all the reivers in England. These infamous people vied with the Armstrongs of Liddesdale in notoriety, and for generations were a constant threat to their neighbours, not only in Scotland, but in England, too.
There lived the Robsons, the Halls, the Dodds, the Herons, the Fenwicks,the Selbys, the Charltons, the Potts and others. Their descendants still live there as they were not deprived of their land and dispersed, as were the Armstrongs in Liddesdale.
One day, a body of Charltons made their way by well-worn tracks, not into Scotland, but west, across the hills into neighbouring Cumberland. Reaching the territory of the Graham families, they ‘lifted’ several hundred of their sheep and made off for home.
The journey back was a slow one, being restricted to the unhurried pace of the flock of sheep, and the need to keep to secret tracks to avoid detection. Eventually, they returned to Northumberland safely, well satisfied with a job well done.
But only days later, they noticed that all was not well with their sheep, and on close examination they discovered that their newly acquired flock was infected with sheep scab and, worse, the Charlton’s own sheep had become infected too.
This was more than the Charltons could suffer and, in fury, they rode off back to Graham land.
There, they grabbed the first Grahams they encountered, seven in number, and promptly hanged them.
Before leaving they left a warning:-'Next time gentlemen cam to tak ther schepe, they were no to be scabbit!'
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You will find the village of Charlton, near Bellingham, Northumberland.
From bordersreivers.co.uk
Yes, cruel and savage I know but a family of survivors. This is the way those who resided on the Northern border of England between the 13th and 17th century lived. They did what they had to do to survive.
While I personally have no desire to live a life of war and reiving there is something deep within me that understands them and their life. That same something tells me I could do it if I had to and I admire them.
On my blog there will probably be future stories and history's of Reivers but it will not be devoted to that subject. All this was to say I have a more humanitarian view of the world. I understand why people do the things they do and my heart hurts for the world and all people. Because the hardest thing about this world is living in it.
I believe in peace and love, I believe we can be better than we are, and I believe the world can be a better place for us all.

Friday, June 26, 2009



















I am sad that he is gone but I am more sad that he always seemed so lonely.