Remembering Dot (1937 - 2026)

Chris Moule is a singer and songwriter and Dot's son.  Scarlett Moule is Dot's grand-daughter.

Mazzy's  contribution

                              At 10, Oxford Avenue, circa 1989.

During my first winter as the wife of Donald Iain Buchanan, Dot and Frank came over to our abode with two bin bags of winter clothing for Mazzy (Frank and Dot's call-out name for me).  Frank had attached a little label to the gifts; "For Iain's little tropical flower".  

Oh Frank, if only you knew what Iain knew.  I warned Iain I was no delicate, obedient tropical flower.  I am more of a cactus! Although he thought I was too hard on myself and likened me to my favourite wild flower: the bunga tahi ayam (chicken shit flower), a shrub very much loved by tropical birds.  By the way the botanical name is lantana camara.

A birthday present inspired by the lantana in our garden.

That gift for my first Leicester winter was the introduction to the warm and generous spirit that was second nature to you.

Dot, I recall this with much joy and affection

There was Frank's blue station wagon, his workhorse for going to work.  Iain mentioned to me about Frank's bag, his mother's bag; where he kept his work tools.  That bag went with Frank to wherever he was going during his working days.

So it travelled with us when we went to London, your first time  you said.  Iain and I got you and Frank and Ann tripping from one Tube station to another, to all the must-see places for tourists, both foreigners and the natives like the good folks from Birstall.

But we four agreed that  London was not a patch on the North East where we had a wild time with Iain's Aunt Peggy.  Peggy was very familiar with Bishop Auckland where she lived,  County Durham and Northumberland, and the Yorkshire Moors of course.  

The Infamous Four plus Peggy, at Captain Cook's Cottage, Whitby.  There were no smart phones then for 'selfies', only smarter dinosaurs!

But that Christmas with Peggy in 1988  "takes the Xmas pudding", and as Peggy was happy living without TV, Iain especially had a wonderful time.

Christmas Day 1988.

But the piece de resistance was when we nudged you both to take a holiday with us in Singapore and Malaysia.

Melaka (left) and Singapore (right).  But you both prefererred Malaysia to Singapore.

On that visit Dot, you taught me an important lesson, more than most of the academics I have come across during my time as a student and a professional.  You enlightened me on an everyday aspect of life in my neck of the woods which I have taken for granted: the beauty and the wonder of the washing line and the gift from the sun.

We were then staying at Tanjung Bidara, Melaka.  After breakfast, we went for a walk to a Malay village just within walking distance of our hotel.  And Dot said, "What lovely colours and shapes, Maz", as she gazed at the washing on the washing line strung from one coconut tree to another; swaying and blowing on a gentle breeze on that lovely morning in a kampung by the seaside in Melaka.  "In Leicester, we will never get that sweet scent of the sun on our washing".  Dot added.   I was stunned at her observation.  After that, and till today, I never stop appreciating the sweet, crispy scent of my dry washing in our abode in suburbia, Kuala Lumpur.  And I also remember and thank  the wisdom of Dot, my mate from Leicester, for reminding me to appreciate the simple gifts of nature that we are now desecrating and destroying to kingdom come.  Thank you Dot.

 

 You hated writing and so did I.  I only changed my ways from living and learnng from Iain. But I remember how you diligently kept a diary during that holiday in Singapore/Malaysia.  While sorting and packing our stuff a few months ago,  I discovered this letter  from you and Frank.  What a gift from 1990 to boost my will and energy for the big move in 2026! 

 

Before Whatsapp came into our life.

    I was then away in Malaysia to keep my mother company during her second cataract operation.  Iain was left to fend for himself.  Although I only left instructions for you two to check on any ladies popping in and out of Oxford Avenue during my absence, Frank did a superb job of popping in every now and then for many cuppas and chats on the Social and Economic history of UK and the western world, the roles of the IMF and the World Bank, the Gold Standard etc etc .  

But Dot,  according to Iain you were priceless. 

According to him, you are the only 'other woman' he has time for.

After Frank passed away in 2004 and after Iain's diagnosis of prostate cancer in 2005 and we lost faith in the NHS and decided on Malaysia for treatment, and with Covid, our communication were few and far between.

This June , with the help and support of Steve and his wife Debi, Jacqui and her partner Giz and that tech-genius Christopher  I met up with my dearest friend in Leicester, to recall our happy days as the Famous Four and life with our beloved mardy(some of the time), grumpy (most of the time) ole gits Frank Moule and Iain Buchanan.  I reckon those two are the best washer-uppers in the whole wide world.  How we love them to bits.

Where do I begin .......... ?

I shall remember forever that look on your face when we finally met, the sweetest smile and the love in your eyes

Fare thee well dearest Dot. May flights of angels wing you on your way.  I  love you and will miss you forever.

Each night before we switch off the light, Iain would give me a kiss and whisper, "Good night love, see you in the morning. Love you."

Good night Dot.  See you later.

I love you.  xxx

For the last one left standing, nothing rhymes.

Malaya Merdeka - from Ash's vinyl collection

 

                                           Click the video twice.

A treasured part of Malay history for an octogenarian.

Seventy Five Years Ago.

 I am now an octogenarian.

This "kacang tak akan lupakan kulit" (this pea has not forgotten its pod).

A  PICTURE  BOOK OF  THE POD.

So, what has infected our long beans, broad beans, stink beans, green kidney beans,  sword beans, winged beans, and wanna-beans since the 1950s?

The Chinese are proud of their 5,000 year old history/culture.  The Malays' pea-brains cannot even cope with 75 years.

Buchanan's Wife - Jottings 2. Why and When ??

 

Today, my dear friend  Siti and a kindred spirit, sent me this video clip, amongst many others earlier; ever since the latest assault on Palestine.  Forget about names like West Bank and Gaza Strip.  Call a spade a spade as before 1945.  It has been and will always be Palestine.

[Just like Semenanjung Tanah Melayu and not Federated Malay States, the Straits Settlements, and the Unfederated  Malay States ....  and many other 'creative'  name plates given by the British to the Malay Peninsula.]

Do give a glance at https://anaksihamid.blogspot.com/2021/10/id-love-to-turn-you-on-holey-history-of.html

Shall I go on?  

But first a CAVEAT.

Chris is Siti's other half.  He suffers from COPD ( Chronic Obstructive Pulmonary Disease).  He spent several years teaching English in the West Bank.

 Check  https://anaksihamid.blogspot.com/2021/05/remember-me-no-1.html

Here's hoping this posting will not suffer the fate of my previous posting 😓.

All I can say to dear Siti ......

Siti, I hate it, I hate it.  The hypocrisy and  double standards of the Western/Christian/Zionist Lobby is despicable.

There are people much younger than us today who will find this atrocious and unacceptable, and will dedicate themselves to giving voice to the powerless and afflicted.

But 30 to 40 years from now, I dearly hope they will not end up like me (and Iain if he is still with us today), holding their heads in their hands and crying out,  " Why? Wny? When will this end?  

You are much younger than us two - you will carry on.

Buchanan's Wife - Jottings 1

 

5.22 am - Leicester

Autumn rain at 5.22 am from my window, Leicester.

Early morning cuppa and orange/almond cake.

In two days,  at this time, Ash will be on the M1 on her way to Heathrow for another 13-hour journey to KLIA.

I have this album by Mark Lindsay given to me by my late brother Akim when I moved to Brunei in 1978 to earn my living and escape the oppressive world of teaching in Singapore.  I remember this one song (though not my favourite) 'The Man from Houston'.

This time, on this journey which  I have been doing since 1985 with Iain (at least twice a year) I will be  treading a new frontier.  From now on this will be a solo trip, just like when I departed KLIA for LHR in August this year.  Just like some previous arrivals at LHR or KLIA I can depend on him to be waiting.

From now on, on every arrival, I will be wondering ......

• why there ain't nobody here to meet me
• I wonder why there's no one here to greet me with a kiss
• tell me everything's all right
• and boy I sure missed you
• and please don't stay away so long next time 
• ...  and oooh I love you .

That's as far as it goes for me.  The rest is for Shah,( my late brother Mus' son )for whenever he has to leave his wife and kids behind when he's away on Company Business.

Memories of Leicester to take back include the warmth, love  and kindness of  friends like Jackie and Julia, Jagdish and Punam, Deanna, John, at Leicester Animal Rescue, Naseema our neighbour and Mohammad and Moriom our good neighbour who live just next door, for Siti, a dear friend from Malaysia who, with her lovely daughters Sara and Hana came all the way from London to keep me company in Leicester.   And finally, some last words from our dearest and kindest of friends - Colin Brooks.

A conversation with Colin, our dear friend in Leicester

Colin - my version

Iain's view and mine as well

On Sunday 15 October .

BW - Colin, can we make it on Tuesday after 3? Am dealing with Council and the solicitors for the Will.

COLIN - Sorry, that's the day I'm in Northampton.

BW - What about Wed afternoon?

COLIN - Yes, that's fine. What time does the Queen of the Orient  command my presence?

BW - Afternoon at 2-3  says the Dowager Queen if that's okay with the Grand Vizier.

COLIN - Your wish is my command.

BW - I shall command the glass carriage to transport you, to avoid the Cycle Lane and leave a trail of horse poo for the Council to clean up for the gardens of the Green Brigade.

COLIN - I can remember ladies rushing out with buckets to collect horse poo dropped in the road by the milkman.  Well not really the milkman, his horse!  Perfect food for the rhubarb. The poo, not the milkman!

BW - We do share mind-boggling knowledge.  Iain would really approve of this!

COLIN - It's amazing how conversation seems to distil down to good honest s**t! 😀  

Yes I miss talking  to Iain.  He leaves a gap in life no one else comes close to filling.  His wife isn't a bad cook though.😃

On Thursday 19 October

BW - A confession Colin. I ate 5 pieces of your Lindt chocolate. Yummy!  

 I recall what you said Colin; of saying goodbye to someone who is not there.

To comfort me , my late brother Mus (when he was still with us) reminded me of a quote from Wordsworth.  "Though nothing can bring back the hour of splendour in the grass ....... we will grieve not but rather find strength in what remains behind."   {He was a strong shoulder for me to lean on, the last of the four most loved men in my life.}

Departed in 2023 - the last two of my most and well-loved men.

The strength is something I can sustain, but the grieving is relentless.  Thank you Colin (and this I know he would repeat to you if he could) for being there and for being you.

Take care of yourself and look after your diet, England expects every man to do his duty.

See you in Spring, God be willing.

From the Oriental Queen of Leicester.

COLIN - Wordsworth's words recited by a Malaysian Malay man.  What a wonderful thought that he used English literature to describe the world.

Grieving lessens but never fades. Ironically, without its presence we would forget those we love.  So fortunately every negative event has an equal positive.

I too miss Iain. There was someting deep inside that I related too.  I hope your journey is not too daunting and remember that England and Leicester awaits to welcome its Queen once again.

PS : The Brook by Alfred, Lord Tennyson for another Brook -  the namesake Colin Brooks.

An extract from The Brook by Alfred, Lord Tennyson.

The Atom in my life.

 

Our Cool Dude.

Din sent me this message yesterday.

"I wish I had more words to say for that beautiful man of yours, Ms Hamid."

Also yesterday, Dr Chandra Muzaffar kindly wrote this tribute to Iain Buchanan.

                           THE  PASSING  OF  IAIN  BUCHANAN  

Thank you very much Chandra.  He would have especially loved your reference to 'humane' and not just 'human' values.  More and more we both realise that most of the time humans cause a great deal of damage to the planet with their greed and ethos of profit and enterprise.  In being humane we include the protection and survival of our trees, rivers, oceans and 'all creatures great and small' but for Iain, especially trees.

Just a little slip.  He departed very quickly, of a heart attack on Sunday 8th January 2023 while we were on the way to hospital.

Early this morning , I sent this photograph to Bride, my sister-in-law in New Zealand. 

AsH  Dear Bride.  Here's Iain's final resting place with our favourite Banjaran Titiwangsa  in the far distance." 

Bride  That is a lovely setting. The one with the flowers all over it?  How are you doing Maz?  

AsH  Yes, that's  where my maddeningly 'beautiful' ole git is enjoying his snooze before his Malay tart arrives.  I am still expecting him to come downstairs, make me my coffee/tea.    (he 's a fabulous beverage manager) albeit after getting an earful of cussing and threats.  After that he will nestle in his rocking chair, gaze at the birds and tree-shrews and perhaps Mr Toad -  in his unkempt garden, then shuffle about in the chair to settle Comot and Socks on his lap, pick up the mobile and get the news and lovely pictures of  NZ from his crabby little sister.

Bride  You're back on form Maz.  Yeah! And I'll miss all those little calls asking odd questions I'd never have the answer to.  I hope you can find a new equilibrium and comfort space.

I just sent these to Keith he asked if I'd sent to you.  I have sent to Iain in the past (yes we have but he has tucked it away where I can't find it - because it's a handy tool for blackmail) but as he died on Elvis's birthday they are probably rocking' on down somewhere rather than getting on with the housework!

AsH  Cool man! Reel cool.

Bride  What a dude eh?

AsH  Indeed! Your lovable, wacky brother, my beloved pain-in-the-everywhere and soul-mate and Keith's loving dude of a Dad.

Rock on sweetheart!!! We miss you  but look out for bus number 104319 and keep the kettle on warm.

Al Fatehah.