176: a week of two halves

A somewhat misleading title but does lead nicely into one of my work visits this week, which saw me heading to north London for a visit to the Emirates Stadium. It’s not often a single meeting puts me within a hop and skip of the 10,000 daily steps target but this one did, with a whistle-stop tour taking in the changing rooms, the press conference room, the post-match interview bit (which looks a lot more glam on the telly, I can tell you – in reality it’s a corner under a concrete stairwell), the stands and various corporate spaces, as well as the pitch and the Hub.

Not shown: any football players changing

The Hub was what I was there to see, really: having spent 17 out of my 21 years in museums knocking about Tower Hamlets, I’m now being let loose on Islington as we’re embedding ourselves in the borough while we develop the new Quentin Blake Centre for Illustration at the old New River Head site. Islington isn’t somewhere I know very well, other than sneaky visits to drool over yarn I can’t afford at Loop and hanging out at the Crafts Council occasionally. Islington, in my head, is a literary thing: Douglas Adams and Nick Hornby, Charles and Carrie Pooter in middle-class Victorian Holloway. As it turns out, it is quite literary, but also full of actual people as well. Who knew! So I am on a bit of a mission to talk to a lot of them in the hope that we can work together.

As well as the Hub, I found myself at the Museum of the Order of St John this week, where I was enveloped in an enormous hug by lovely Maggie, an ex-colleague from Museum of Childhood. Coming as a nice surprise to someone instead of a terrible shock is a good thing! If you haven’t been to this little gem of a museum, it’s worth a visit: full of interesting medieval things and housed in a fascinating building, and they have a lovely family programme. Time it right and on the same day you could do The Charterhouse and wander through to St Bartholomew the Great, tucked away behind slabs of modern brick and concrete, and the Postman’s Park.

Between St Bartholomew the Great and Smithfield

Other things tucked away behind modern slabs in the area include Bleeding Heart Yard, where Amanda and I finally managed to go for our belated 50th birthday dinner – we’ve rearranged it twice when work got in the way, but it was worth the wait. We ate at the Bistro, sitting outside on their shaded terrace which was quiet on an early Tuesday evening. We chose the set menu: I had gravadlax of salmon, followed by wild Brixham seabass fillet and crème brulée, while Amanda had roasted beetroot, Chicken Paillard and chocolate delice. We shared fine green beans and pommes frites…and a side of fresh, warm madeleines which were wonderful. The friendly waiter didn’t even bat an eyelid when we asked for a side with our desserts, bless him. The Aperol Spritzes were perfect, too, and we laid off the wine as migraines are no fun at all, and that’s currently the result of even a small glass at the moment. Why prosecco doesn’t have the same effect is anyone’s guess, but I won’t complain.

Other things making me happy this week:

A conversation with illustrator/author and fellow South Walian Isabel Benavides who launches her first picture book in August and who is coming to do a family workshop for me at Finsbury Library
A 90-page conservation plan for the site which was full of fascinating information.
An early morning walk with Thing 3
Far too much crochet and my new Banks jumpsuit covered in otters. I sewed it on my Aunty Jo’s old Singer Samba sewing machine, freshly serviced and a dream to use.

Things making me sad this week:

The death of Sinead O’Connor, who I loved as a teenager. The Lion and the Cobra is a hugely powerful album. Hopefully, whatever the cause of death turns out to be, she’s found some peace now.

Same time next week!

Kirsty x

Cover image: “The Laurels”, “a nice six-roomed residence, not counting basement” – Drawing of “The Laurels”, the fictional home of the Pooter family. First published in The Diary of a Nobody by George and Weedon Grossmith. London, J.W. Arrowsmith 1892.

What I’ve been reading:

Heir of Uncertain Magic – Charlie N. Holmbury. Also started The Will and the Wilds but it was bloody awful so I stopped. Life is too short to read books you’re not enjoying.

Museum of Magic – Beth Revis

Odds and Gods – Tom Holt

Broken Homes/Foxglove Summer/The Furthest Station/The Hanging Tree – Ben Aaronovitch (Audible)

The White Hare – Jane Johnson

175: back in my happy corner

It has been a busy couple of months, what with all that training taking up weekends and so on, and apart from the ongoing tube crochet I haven’t done a great deal of making stuff. I started a laptop bag using this free tutorial and a yellow waxed cotton to match my beloved Fjallraven backpack, and I really must finish it off just as soon as I find where I put it.

In May I answered an open call by Tauko, a Finnish/German magazine, to be part of the Make and Share community for Issue 8’s patterns. I’d bought a couple of their patterns before, as I like their aesthetic, so the opportunity to test a new design with a free pattern was pretty irresistible.

We were sent a digital proof of the magazine and asked to choose the pattern we’d like to make up, and the deadline (but a relaxed one, as tauko means to pause or take a break) was publication date on the 18th of July. I must admit it hadn’t really occurred to me how much of June’s weekends would be taken up with training, due to being deep in denial about how far 100k actually was, so in the end it was all a bit of a rush! Day one of this project was the Tuesday following the Long Walk, so I mostly did it sitting down and watching the Great British Sewing Bee.

I chose the Kindling top, designed by Shannon McCann, as I like a structured top layer. I have a habit of working in historic buildings with erratic heating so a bit of quilting never goes amiss! I liked the wide sleeve option and the side ties, and the bias bound hems.

In my stash I had a double duvet cover in 100% cotton that I’d bought in a sale, which meant I could skip a step and cut out the lining and outer fabric at the same time. You can see the top fabric above, and the reverse is a pale sage colour. Also in the stash I had some sage green bias binding, again from a sale, and some toning grosgrain ribbon that had been handed to me as part of someone else’s clear-out. As long as I wasn’t too fussy about thread matching, the only thing I needed to buy was some cotton batting for the inner layer. I bought a fairly thin 100% cotton one to avoid too much bulk, and all the scraps went to my beloved to use either in the compost or to line plant pots. The batting was opaque which made it a bit tricky to line up the layers properly – one reason why you have a lining as well as a backing in other items, and if I make this again I’ll use an additional layer. I may make a sleeveless version, as I have enough fabric left from the jumpsuit I cut out today in a dark green otter-print fabric.

I started by cutting out the pieces and quilting them with simple vertical lines – my long acrylic quilting ruler made marking the lines easy, along with a heat-erasable pen. I spaced the lines quite widely, and stitched them with a multicoloured thread. Construction after this was very straightforward, the pattern instructions are clear and thorough, and the piece is easy to size.

Once the front and back are quilted, the shoulder seams are stitched and bound with bias binding, which gives a lovely clean finish. All the seams are supposed to be bound, in fact, but I confess I didn’t bind the inside of the sleeves as I was short on time. I used a zigzag stitch to finish them instead.

Next up was binding the edges. The pattern calls for creating your own ties using the bias binding, but as I had this pretty toning ribbon I skipped that step as well and. Binding around the outside is a single straightforward step, though I did have to unpick a few times when I forgot to tuck the ribbon out of the way.

The neckline was where I nearly threw the towel in and the sewing machine out: this should have been a very quick job but my trusty Brother LS14 is badly in need of a service and the tension keeps slipping. I tried rethreading, changing the bobbin, swearing and all other known sewing tricks, but kept getting the dreaded birds nest on the reverse and having to unpick. I gave up for the day instead. As you can see from the image above, the sleeveless version is very wearable and I gave some thought to making detachable sleeves with poppers.

I was in a much better frame of mind a few days later, and the first thing I did was to wind new bobbins and rethread, which solved the birds nest issue and the neck binding went on easily. I was tempted to leave it sleeveless but I’d already cut and quilted them, so…

The sleeve hems and heads are bound and then attached to the bodice. This was the trickiest bit: I’d marked the notches with heat-erasable pen, as the snips had been bound over….and then I’d ironed it. It took a while to work out where to start and stop sewing as obviously I needed to be able to move my arms in it, but I got there in the end! Again there was a bit of unpicking where I’d pinned wrong, but the double bindings create a structured effect so worth the effort. A quick press and try on, and then it was time to nag my beloved to take photos in the garden. Apart from making a sleeveless version, if I make it again I’ll crop the sleeves and use a thicker batting, but I can see this getting a lot of wear.

In other crafts…

June updated on the Supernova – hottest June on record, apparently

The nudibranch and mushroom sprite patterns are by Crafty Intentions, and the crochet round barrel cactus is by ZoeCreates.

This week I am looking forward to a belated birthday dinner with Amanda celebrating our 50ths, and another visit to The Museum of the Order of St John.

Kirsty x

What I’ve been reading:

The Good, The Bad and The History – Jodi Taylor

Queen Charlotte – Julia Quinn & Shonda Rimes

Whispers Underground/Broken Homes – Ben Aaronovitch (Audible)

Odds and Gods/Ye Gods! – Tom Holt

The Forgotten Witch – Jessica Dodge

174: a day trip to Cambridge

A week post-Race to the Stones and my feet are almost back to normal size, although luckily I haven’t had to test this by putting anything like shoes on! The only day I’ve left the village was Thursday, when we went on a work team outing to Cambridge where the University Library is showing our exhibition Raymond Briggs: A Retrospective until late August.

Cambridge isn’t somewhere I have spent a great deal of time – I went to a humanist naming ceremony there once, and while Timeshare Teenager 1 was at Anglia Ruskin we popped up to see her, but other than a two-hour delay on a train back from somewhere where we got to sit in the station that’s been it. My very efficient Public Programmes Producer Jo organised the day, finding out about trains and buses, which was much appreciated by myself and the other member of the team Valentina.

Jo knows about things like group save tickets, and so we met at Kings Cross to catch the train and grab breakfast from Leon. Miraculously the trains were well-behaved all day (unlike the tube on the way home). Cambridge University Library is an impressive 1930s building which reminded us all of a power station – which makes sense now that I have discovered the architect, Giles Gilbert Scott, also worked on Battersea Power Station (and the red telephone box, which is cool).

The gallery is tucked away to the side of the main library entrance; quite a small space but the exhibition is full of sketches, roughs and proofs from some of Briggs’s best known-works like The Snowman and Father Christmas as well as from his longer graphic novels like When The Wind Blows and Ethel and Ernest. My sister’s favourite, Fungus the Bogeyman, also featured – I’d forgotten all the wonderful words in this one, and how endearing Fungus was.

We liked the simple sketch/make trails, especially playing with scale and getting messy with the giant’s footprint. We were amazed at the different illustration styles Briggs used over the years, and at the neatness of his typography for Fungus’s pages. The scrawled notes like ‘no full frontal nudity for Father Christmas’ made us laugh. When The Wind Blows brought back memories of the 80s and the very real fear of nuclear war, and The Tin-pot Foreign General and the Old Iron Woman was a stark look at the Falklands War.

If you’re in the area do go and see it – free entry and you also get to marvel at the University Library.

After leaving the library we walked through the grounds of one of the colleges, watching people punting and a fashion shoot with preppy clothes on the banks of the Cam, and made our way to Kettle’s Yard where we were planning to have lunch and a look at the Palestinian embroidery exhibition. The pavement on the way was scattered with bronze flowers, which Google informed us was the Cambridge Core and Flower Trail, inspired by a medieval coin hoard found by Anglian Water workers.

Lunch was a salad with hummus and falafel, with a lemon and ginger lemonade, while Jo and Valentina had huge vegetarian wraps. Jo tried the sticky toffee cake too, while I resisted the delicious-looking date flapjack.

Material Power

Our slot to visit the house was at 2pm, so we visited the Material Power exhibition first. The show covers both historic and modern dress, and the role of embroidery as a social signifier and a form of protest and resistance. As a cross-stitcher and very basic embroiderer, the amount of work and detail in the gorgeous garments left me speechless (I know!), especially the inside out garment where the back of the work was spectacularly neat. The image of the ’embroidered woman’ in the PLO material was striking. Upstairs was more modern clothing, and we were struck by the foregrounding of Palestinian women’s voices by simply having their video playing out loud, while the curator had to be listened to on headphones. Valentina has Palestinian ancestry, so the exhibition held personal meaning for her.

The piece that moved me most was the one above, Aya Haidar’s Safe Space series: a set of six hoop embroideries documenting her mother’s memories of growing up on Lebanon in the Civil War (1975-1990), and the steps people took to stay safe from everyday violence. Saucepan helmets and bullet proof vests, sleeping under beds, piling furniture to protect from flying glass, captured in a ‘domestic’ craft.

Finally we popped up to look at the ‘reflection and response’ space which turned out to be a corner in a corridor. The rest of the exhibition was so well done that I was a bit disappointed by this, though space is obviously an issue. There was a lot to reflect on and this felt like an afterthought.

To the house!

I’d heard of Kettle’s Yard as someone on my MA course was a volunteer there, but didn’t know much about it so had no idea what to expect. I was completely enchanted from the moment we walked in.

The website says, ‘Kettle’s Yard is the University of Cambridge’s modern and contemporary art gallery. Kettle’s Yard is a beautiful House with a remarkable collection of modern art.’ This does not do it justice. You can take a virtual tour here, but if you’re in Cambridge – perhaps to see the Raymond Briggs Retrospective! – go and visit. It’s magical in the same way that Dennis Severs’s House is: out of time, and with the sense that someone has just left the rooms. Apparently Helen and Jim Ede welcomed visitors and fed them tea and toast, and this spirit of home remains.

When your timeslot arrives you are escorted to the house where you ring a bellpull and are greeted by an incredibly knowledgeable person who clearly loves their role. You can sit in any of the chairs but you can’t touch any of the exhibits, which was frustrating for someone likes me who loves a pebble and a found object.

This being me, I gravitated to the packed bookshelves in Helen Ede’s room where I found such old friends as Lucy M. Boston’s Green Knowe stories (set in Huntingdon) and Sellars & Yeatman’s 1066 and All That. I wanted to find a chair and read for a while. The whole house exerts a sense of calm that I usually get from being at the seaside. Many of the paintings that called to me were seascapes, particularly Seascape with Two Boats by Winifred Nicholson where my eye was caught by the small child exploring the rocks and the Alfred Wallis Five Ships, Mount Bay which reminded me of Aberaeron.

*Seascape with Two Boats –* Winifred Nicholson

I also liked Cornelia Parker’s Verso series – photographs of the reverse of button cards from a museum collection, which highlight the work of the seamstresses who had to mount these buttons.

You can read more about Jim Ede and Kettle’s Yard here and here. If I go missing, you’ll find me tucked in a corner of his house with one of Helen’s books.

Next week will be a crafty update as I have been busy with crochet creatures, cross stitch and a make and share for the new issue of Tauko magazine. Here’s a teaser…

Kirsty x

What I’ve been reading:

Overboard– Sara Paretsky

The Ward Witch – Sarah Painter

Moon Over Soho/Whispers Underground – Ben Aaronovitch (Audible)

Emily Wilde’s Encyclopaedia of Fairies – Heather Fawcett

Desert Star – Michael Connelly

Ye Gods! – Tom Holt

The Good, The Bad and The History – Jodi Taylor

173: and a bit

Or, things we know now that we didn’t know last week, by Gwrachod Ar Daith (witches on tour). Faithful readers will know that earlier this year we all signed up to do an ultramarathon to raise money for Parkinsons UK. The event was Race to the Stones, 100km along the Ridgeway from Lewknor in Oxfordshire to Avebury in Wiltshire.

We all finished it – not together, but I was only a few minutes behind the others – and over breakfast this morning we put together this handy guide for anyone else signing up to an event like this.

Before the event

Do the training.
No, really. Do all the training, no matter how often you run/do classes/other things. DO THE TRAINING.
Test your shoes and socks. Find what works for you. Your feet will thank you.
Train in the kit you’re wearing on the day. Test your fuelling. Race Day is not the day to experiment.

Three days to go:

No, you’re not coming down with Covid/flu/Bubonic Plague/the screaming lurgy. This is pre-race hypochondria.
Pack early so you can repack at least five times in consultation with your race buddies
A whole bag for your snacks is perfectly reasonable.
Carb load. Pasta or rice every day for a week? FINE.
You will question your life choices. A lot.

The day before:

Eat well. Hydrate. This is not the time for an Indian takeaway and a few pints of Cobra.
Get an early night, because you’re going to be awake very early.
Not all glamping sites are created equal. When they say ‘cooking facilities in each tent’ ask for details, because you don’t want to be messing with a fire pit at 5am. Also ask if ‘complete luxury’ includes bedding. Thank heavens we had our sleeping bags and pillows for the following night.

On the day:

Have that last wee. You won’t regret it.
Start with your team even if you know you won’t finish with them. Have a plan, find your pace and don’t feel you have to keep up. Enjoy it!
Even if you haven’t had a single blister in training you’ll get one on the day.
Use the walking poles and you won’t get sausage fingers.
Small children proffering Haribo are angels in disguise.
Weather happens. Slather on the suncream and bug spray, have the waterproof.
Talk to people. I had some great conversations, and it takes your mind off the distance.
Check in with people, say hi, make sure they’re ‘re ok. It’s an ultra and it’s hard mentally as well as physically.
Use all the pitstops, especially if there are piglets.
Eat ALL the snacks. Fill your bottles. See the medics if you need to but don’t sit down too long.
At some point everyone and (almost) everything will smell better than you.
Look up sometimes and see the scenery!
Just make it to the next stop: bite sized chunks!

Basecamp:

Shower, eat, sleep. Do not be tempted to party into the night, there’s another 50k tomorrow.
Earplugs are your friend. We used Loop ones. .
Eat breakfast.
Rehydrate. Keep warm.

Post-race:

Book a hotel.
Don’t sign up to next year on that wave of post-event euphoria.
Be really bloody proud of what you’ve achieved.
Eat ALL THE FOOD.

And now I need some food!

Kirsty x

What I’ve been reading:

Alexandria/Nemesis – Lindsey Davies

Amongst Our Weapons/Rivers of London – Ben Aaronovitch (Audible)

Overboard – Sara Paretsky

172: Piriton, Posters and Prosecco…

…both of which knock me for six these days which at least means I have slept well!

On Monday I was fifty, and while for the past few years my birthday has been celebrated in the garden with barbecues and coffee tequila, this year I’ve been training hard for the Race to the Stones so I didn’t plan anything. My lovely neighbour Sue had invited me round for a hot tub in the evening, which turned out to be a surprise mini-gathering with cake and fizz and presents, which was most unexpected and very lovely!

The cake did actually catch fire, thanks to Jill’s sparklers and decorations – not down to the number of candles: all we in the garden heard was “happy birthday to AAAARGGH!”.

Presents included a selection of plasters and a voucher for our local salon so I can book myself a post-Race pedicure or massage – bless them!

The second prosecco event was the private view of Young V&A on Wednesday evening, at which I was so excited I didn’t take any photos.

Even knowing what to expect (having worked on it for five years!) I still had a wow moment when I walked in and saw it full of colour and people. Last time I was on site, about two months ago, it was in full chaos with cases and objects being installed, and it seemed very unlikely that they’d ever be ready to open on time.

The mission – thanks to a throwaway comment by a snarky pre-teen – was to create the most joyful museum in the world. There were definitely moments during the five years that joy was in very short supply, but the end result is wondrous. At the event I attended there were adults and children interacting in the all the ways we’d hoped and my new colleague Cassie who joined me at the event was enchanted too. The museum is bright and full of colour, yet definitely not a play area. Opening up the roof lights has changed the atmosphere in what is essentially a Victorian greenhouse. The huge gallery titles bring colour and playfulness to the central space – not to mention the flying Microlino car – and there are still enough ‘I had one of those!’ moments to draw in the adults. Clever moments like the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles’ house being added to the dolls houses make you smile, as do the poems commissioned from people like Michael Rosen and Valerie Bloom to illustrate the letters in the ‘Apple is for A’ section.

The Design gallery – the one I worked on and which at times felt like an afterthought – does exactly what we wanted it to do: brings the stories of the design case studies to life, and highlights the work of young people. Works by teens are hung next to work by Issey Miyake and Bethany Williams, and I was sneakily thrilled to see the border panel I made as part of the quilt. The open studio was filled with people, the ‘boob carpet’ is in place (go and see what I mean) and the Shed walls were filled with amazing pieces by the resident Clara Chu.

The overall shine was tarnished for me by the discovery later in the week that for some reason the V&A’s director, Tristram Hunt, had ordered the removal of two posters from the ‘Design gives people a voice’ display and some books from the shop. The space limitations in that area of the gallery meant that every single object had to work hard to get its message across, was included after much debate and the gallery had been through multiple presentations to the directors and various trustees before this point. Our ethos throughout the project had been to reflect our audience in what we showed and to be genuinely inclusive. To have a Stonewall poster removed and the books from the shop – on the anniversary of Pride in London – denies and devalues the work we did towards this. Kristian Volsing, who was lead curator on this gallery, wrote a brilliant blog post this time last year about the pieces. Please read it and understand what our mission was.

I’d be interested to know what prompted the decision to censor objects in the gallery and in the shop mere days before opening and what apologies will be made to the communities being hidden by the V&A. I hope Hunt is challenged and the objects are reinstated. So far he has refused to retract the decision despite representations from the LGBT staff forum and the union.

As for the Piriton…bloody mosquitoes.

Next week’s blog may be late as I have to go for a walk…

Kirsty x

What I’ve been reading:

Saturnalia/Alexandria – Lindsey Davis

Amongst Our Weapons – Ben Aaronovitch (Audible)

Back When We Were Grown-ups – Anne Tyler