Doris Lilian known as Dori Andrew (30 Dec 1935 - 11 Dec 2022)

In loving memory of Doris Lillian known as Dori Andrew who sadly passed away on 11th December 2022. She will be laid to rest beneath the trees and surrounded by birds at Tithe Green Burial Ground, Oxton at 1pm on 26th January 2023. This will be followed by a memorial gathering at St Peter's Centre, Sheepwalk Lane, Ravenshead around 2pm and will be an opportunity for Dori's friends who were unable to visit Tithe Green to remember Dori and say their Goodbyes.re she
We all have different memories of Dori as she touched our lives. Born in 1935 on a sheep farm at Bishops Castle to Eric and Doris, she always identified as more Welsh than English - and how many children walk 5 miles to school nowadays as she did along with her sister Elsie.? Oswestry was her next scene of triumph as she qualified as an orthopaedic nurse as well as physiotherapist and her fellow students tell of laughs and larks especially taking Edinburgh by storm - so much that Dori took herself to up north to work there. It is the good fortune of so many schools, children and families that she ended up in Mansfield as their supreme physiotherapy strength and stay
We know Dori as an elegantly dressed, dignified and cultured lover of theatre, poetry and gardens.. How many of us know that she was an intrepid mountaineer, travelling the world in the company of top climbers and where she met her (now ex) husband Bruce - Doug Scott was his best man!. They had a fine time - taking 3 months off work to tour Europe on a motorbike!. Dori has the distinction of a very difficult and famous climb named Wee Doris at Stony Middleton.
Dori had such a rich and varied hinterland - the John Clare Societry, Pleasley nature reserve, gardens of every hue, butterflies, wild flowers, classical concerts plus Bob Dylan, walking the countryside. with Sharper Sheepdog , rearing baby lambs on the farm: but everyone who knew Dori would say that her first love was the bird population of the world. A passionate contributor to and supporter of the work of the RSPB she travelled the world from China to USA to Ukraine - making friends wherever she went.

DORI WAS A MAGNIFICENT ADVENTURER WITH A LIFE WELL LIVED. WE AND THE WORLD WILL MISS HER

CHARITIES Ravenshead Ready Call and Cornwater Evergreens
Over the past 18 months, when Dori was becoming more frail, 2 local charities supported and befriended her a way that totally changed her life for the better. We thought that she would appreciate it if people who wished to do so would make a donation in lieu of flowers to support these chartities to thank them for the practical kindnesses they bestowed on Dori to enhance her life.. Donations can be made by contacting AW ymn Mansfield or via a collecting box at St Peter's centre memorial gathering

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JO MAKINS OBITUARY FOR HER GOOD FRIEND DORI

I met Dori at Ernest Snow’s in the early 70’s when I first started going out with the Polaris Mountaineering Club. I was soon to find that she lived around the corner from me and we became friends.

I gradually heard about her long walk to school and how in springtime as a small child she had to suffer the terrors of the seagull colony she walked through. I heard of the life she led on the isolated family farm on the Long Mynd, her mother’s bread baking and Dori churning the butter after school, how many years later she visited the farmhouse to find her pony’s bridle still hanging in the barn and saw the damp remnants of the wallpaper that had hung in her bedroom. I learnt of her climbing forays with Bruce her ex-husband, her riding on the back of his motorbike with the climbing gear, the trips to the Alps and the Dolomites and climbing in the West Highlands with the SMC and with the late Tom Patey who at that time was the doctor in Ullapool.

Through our attendance at the PMC Wednesday evening meets on the Derbyshire crags I realised Dori was an impressive and elegant climber. This petite, dark haired lady with the cornflower blue eyes used holds I couldn’t reach and walked tirelessly for many miles without complaint. At that time she was accompanied by Sharper sheepdog. “Why Sharper” I asked “Because he’s cleverer than other dogs” she replied. Sharper sat excitedly on the back seat of Dori’s VW Beatle panting heavily down my neck. Dori indulged his every whim tying his hair up from his eyes so he could see out down her garden then rush out to chase the birds. His indoor game was running up the stairs to drop an apple down as he bounded down after it to land as a hairy heap at the bottom only to return to repeat the game over and over. On PMC meets he would run up and down the line of stragglers trying to round us up, happiest when mud was flying in all directions with Dori urging him to desist.

As time went on John and I would drive Dori to meets. With an increasing interest in birds she and John would go bird watching sharing their excitement at seeing black guillemots from the CalMac ferries, the king eider duck on Lochranza bay, crossbills and ospreys in the Cairngorms, the migrant birds from the mist nets on Lundy.

Away from climbing I discovered Dori had a keen interest in the arts, music and poetry especially the poetry of John Clare so empathetic with the countryside. Dori loved clothes and had an impeccable sense of style, always elegantly dressed. While she was still young Dori’s hair turned white emphasizing her cornflower blue eyes. On her trek to Kanchenjunga base camp her white hair intrigued the Nepalese camp staff. They loved her so much they called her Didi – older sister - a term of respect and endearment in Nepal and were still talking about her years later.

Her life was not always easy. As a peripatetic physiotherapist she was deeply moved by the genuine hardships and tragedies she witnessed. I remember how Dori attended the funerals of little ones who had been in her care and how much it upset her. Some visits were to homes that were none too hygienic and she would keep a dressing gown in her garage so the clothes she had been wearing could go into a plastic bag to be transferred straight to the washer!

As time went on Dori became increasingly interested and knowledgeable about birds and travelled not only around Britain but around the World to add to her many lists of must-sees: Greece, the ’Stans, North Africa, the Azores, Texas, India, and China to name a few destinations.

In the 1980’s for several years Brian Daffern took a cottage in Scotland just south of Ullapool for Christmas and the New Year inviting Dori, John and I to join him. I remember us climbing Seana Bhraigh and Dori’s excitement at seeing not only ptarmigan but a flock of snow buntings whirling in the falling snow. Many more hours were spent on the freezing cold jetty at Ullapool scanning for glaucous gulls among the restless flocks. In the evenings Dori would often take care of preparing our evening meal as she was an excellent cook.

After John’s demise it fell to me to drive us to Scotland. No sooner had we settled on one campsite and trekked to a remote loch or glen for her to locate some avian rarity when we would have to up sticks to relocate for the next find: watching horizontal rain sweeping the Insh marshes, the terns at Kyle of Tongue, the sea cliffs at St Abbs Head and on Handa Island. The Western Isles became a theme and we visited Lismore, Seil, Islay, Jura, Harris and Lewis, and the Uists. Dori had been to Rum with Tony Hutchinson and she flew on trips to the Shetland Observatory. Many journeys also included visits to gardens often with me to Professional Gardeners’ Guild meetings including Arran and Bute. This also ticked off two more islands. Gradually Dori found her knees increasingly arthritic and walking restricted to a few miles. However on the Isle of Eigg the local naturalist, having assessed Dori’s intellect and knowledge of birds, volunteered to take us to see a hen harrier’s nest. That thrill achieved he suggested we could go to see the eagle chick in a cliff nest some miles away. Undeterred Dori agreed. We must have walked 8-10 miles that day poorly knees forgotten!

Dori was a keen gardener referring to her own garden with characteristic modesty as “loosely structured” while it clearly demonstrated her grip on the artistry of gardening. Having an interest in wild flowers between birdwatching she was happy to help me seek and identify the native flora of Britain.

Over the last few years our lives drifted apart although we did exchange phone calls from time to time. Some two years ago the last time I contacted Dori she told me she had suffered a minor stroke and I received no more Christmas cards after that.

Dori Andrew, farmer’s daughter, physiotherapist, birdwatcher, mountaineer, rock climber, botanist, excellent cook, gardener, lover of the arts, the kindly elegant lady full of fun with the cornflower blue eyes and the ready smile RIP.

Jo Makin