208: so, what do you want to be when you grow up?

So here we are at week 208 – four years of me rambling (physically and literarily), reading, making stuff, working, swimming and anything else that’s taken my fancy., Happy birthday to WKDN once again. 11,688 people have visited my little corner of the internet, which is pretty cool – thank you, especially to those people who drop in every week to see what I’ve been up to. Some of them aren’t even related to me!

Does this make me a writer of sorts? There’s certainly been a lot of words. 214,103 to be exact. Some of them have been quite cross and some of them have been airyfairy and about mushrooms and flowers and things, and a lot of them have been about various crafts. Some of them may even have made people think about things differently – I hope so, at least.

At one point in my life I wanted to be a writer, but the trouble was I didn’t know what I wanted to write about, and as it turned out I accidentally fell into a career I rather liked so that worked out quite well.

I’ve been thinking a lot about careers recently thanks to a couple of events I’ve taken part in: one for Year 10s with Inspire, our local Education Business Partnership, and one for undergraduate Education Studies students at the University of East London, but both aimed at helping various levels of students think about their career choices post-education. I’ve just signed up to the latter’s professional mentoring programme, in fact.

When I do these events we’re always asked to talk about our ‘career paths’ and in the last year or so there’s been a focus on non-traditional paths to the workplace – less of the narrow academic routes and more about apprenticeships, traineeships. Definitely less of the ‘I got 3 A*, went to Oxbridge/insert Russell Group uni of choice, got the job of my dreams and now I have a house, 2.4 kids and a dog called Volvo’ career path. I do see some of those people still around – one engineer telling students that they have to do a degree or they won’t get a job, for example, which in the middle of a white working class council estate in depressed post-Ford Dagenham isn’t really the most helpful advice in these days of student debt.

I was on a panel the other day with someone doing youth work and marketing, and he was really open about the fact that he’d dropped out of university having made a mess of his first year, and his dad made him get a job. The job turned out to be in youth work, and he loved it – so he went back to uni with a purpose and now is doing amazing things. He also had an excellent hat.

Another event saw me talking to an environmental scientist who wishes she’d gone down the apprenticeship route as she’d have entered the workplace with practical experience rather than a lot of theory. Her job, on the Tideway Tunnel project, seems mostly to involve telling the construction workers off for throwing mitten crabs back in the river.

The panel event at UEL was essentially for opening up the students’ horizons about the different careers in education: as well as the marketing youth worker, there was a teacher and someone who works in outreach in the Home Office. I always like to describe my career as accidental, as the move out of teaching came as a result of an Inset Day arranged (coincidentally) by the very EBP I did the school event with a few weeks ago. I like these circular moments.

We inevitably get asked at some point what advice we’d give to people starting out, and mine is invariably to take every opportunity you can as you’ll always learn something useful. A range of handy teaching skills, for example, actually came from working behind a bar and clearing people out at closing time. Be curious about all the people around you and what they’re doing – getting the whole picture of an organisation helps you work as a team, and builds relationships. I mean everyone, from the cleaners upwards – make friends, ask them how they are. No one is too low or too high to say hello to. Play nicely, and – this is my current office bugbear – always put your cups and teaspoons in the dishwasher.

Other things making me happy this week

Interesting online meetings about working with young volunteers and Bradford City of Culture
A surprise birthday breakfast for Rachel at the lake after a chilly swim
Good progress on the current cross stitch
Visit from Timeshare Teenager 2 and Grandthing 2
Coffee and world-righting with Amanda
Still watching Silent Witness. We’re up to series 15!
A visit to the Foundling Museum with a colleague

Same time next week then 🙂

Kirsty x

What I’ve been reading

The Rules of Magic/Magic Lessons/The Book of Magic – Alice Hoffman

The Wild Rover – Mike Parker

At Home – Bill Bryson (Audible)

Killing the Shadows – Val McDermid

207: listen very carefully, I shall say zis only once

You may have noticed that I love an audiobook. As an accompaniment to the continuing chaos of a Central Line commute (along with a crochet project) it can’t be beaten – it’s like someone reading bedtime stories, especially with the right voice. Kobna Holdbrook-Smith is perfect for the Rivers of London series; Neil Gaiman narrating his own books is a joy; Michael Sheen could read me a shopping list, quite frankly; Esme Young reading her autobiography; Stephen Fry reading the Hitchhikers series; Zara Ramm reading The Chronicles of St Mary’s; and many others. This week I’ve started listening to Bill Bryson reading his own At Home book about the history of all the things in our houses.

The wrong reader can kill a book – the person who narrated Mike Carey’s Felix Castors series was awful, and there were a few of Lindsey Davis’s Falco books with the ‘wrong’ narrator. Tony Robinson was wrong for Discworld, Nigel Planer was a bit better, Stephen Briggs and Celia Imrie were great but the new Penguin versions with people like Richard Coyle, Andy Serkis, Katherine Parkinson, Indira Varma, Sian Clifford and others – all with Peter Serafinowicz as Death and the glorious Bill Nighy as the Footnotes – were perfect.

And then there’s accents. Sometimes – done well, and done appropriately – they can add to the listening experience, but sometimes they’re excruciatingly inappropriate and give you what the kids call ‘the ick’. Posh white readers doing ‘generic Chinese’, for example (as my lovely colleague was horrified by the other week) or posh English people doing cod Welsh, which quite ruined the final instalment of Susan Cooper’s The Dark is Rising sequence. This particular voice belonged to an actor I rather like, usually – known for playing quite posh people – but oh lord, he mangled the Welsh accents in Silver on the Tree and had clearly made no attempt to find out how to pronounce the Welsh placenames he was reading (despite the fact that in the previous book he’d narrated a section where the Welsh character taught the English one how to say them). It was painful to hear, and I apologise to anyone who saw me grimacing every time he mentioned Machynlleth or Aberdyfi.

Things making me happy this week

Catching up with this year’s temperature tracker cross stitch
Getting a good start on Country Magic Stitch ‘Welcome to Rivendell’
Coffee with Amanda
A chatty evening on Wednesday instead of D&D
A chilly but sunny walk on Monday morning (and a rainy one on Saturday morning)
Harry in Silent Witness
A chilly but refreshing swim at the lake

What I’ve been reading:

Hedge Witch – Cari Thomas

The Book Keeper – Sarah Painter

The Wild Rover– Mike Parker

Silver on the Tree – Susan Cooper (Audible)

The Owl Service – Alan Garner (Audible)

The Familiars – Stacy Halls

Practical Magic/The Rules of Magic – Alice Hoffman

At Home: A Short History of Private Life – Bill Bryson (Audible)

206: a right pain in the neck

This week has been mostly notable for a migraine which has been sulking and stropping around since Tuesday, making its presence felt in a variety of unpleasant ways. Quite apart from the pain, a full-on migraine comes accompanied by visual disturbances, nausea, light and sound sensitivity, shakes and – joy of joys, these days – hot flushes which are a new and entirely unwelcome addition to both the menopause and the migraines.

The migraine landed on Tuesday night and I beat it into submission with painkillers, heat packs and an early night, and then (thinking I was winning) I went to work on Wednesday morning. The Central Line, which at the moment is a portal into the deepest pits of hell (and no, I am not exaggerating) was crowded, hot and delayed. By the time I got to work the side-effects were back with a vengeance and the pain was gearing up for round two, I went home after a couple of hours and took to my bed, which helped, but I’ve had to be careful with my choice of activity for the rest of week.

I’ve had migraines since my late teens, occasionally triggered by food and drink (red wine, white wine and lager – halfway down the first glass, which effectively ruins an evening out; strong cheese; too much dark chocolate – all classic triggers). Sometimes they’re hormonal, sometimes stress-related; sometimes they just turn up for no good reason whatsoever. They’re exhausting, and the really bad ones leave you knocked out for several days and feeling fragile. Painkillers take out the pain, but not the rest of the symptoms – over the years I’ve tried all sorts of thing, like Migraleve and Syndol when they strike; amytriptyline which didn’t work; a nasal spray containing ergotamine which came with a long list of side effects including death, so I didn’t use that much; Tiger Balm, Kool’n’Soothe, heat packs, Deep Freeze gel, and right now I have my neck on an acupuncture pillow which is spiky but effective. It would be nice to find something that worked consistently but so far no luck. Everyone seems to have their own ways of dealing with theirs – currently I take Paramol alternating with Ibuprofen, use Tiger Balm on my temples and a heat pack or cold gel on my neck – I have seen something that recommends a bag of frozen peas on your neck and your feet in a bowl of hot water, but that seems complicated at a time when even thinking in single syllables is a challenge.

Things that were better about the week…

Interesting meetings – the Participatory Arts Network and a friendly rabbi
A great walk in the chilly sunshine with Toby and Loki the Weimaraner on Saturday morning – we anticipated squirrels and rabbits but the geese were a surprise!
Finishing the cross stitch that’s been on my frame for about a year and kitting up the next one
Finishing the scarf I’ve been crocheting on the train
A bit more attempting to draw – this time I liked the bricks but I need to learn about perspective and things. Somewhere I have a book but it’s hiding from me!
The Naked Marshmallow Company’s salted caramel gourmet flavour (thanks Tan)
Thing 2’s lemon and cranberry biscuits

I am off for a swim this morning for the first time in a couple of weeks – let’s hope I haven’t lost my acclimatisation!

Kirsty x

What I’ve been reading:

Threadneedle – Cari Thomas

Silver on the Tree – Susan Cooper (Audible)

Neighbours from Hell?/The Wild Rover – Mike Parker

205: it’s very nice…what is it?

One of the things we believe at work is that – given the right tools – everyone is an illustrator, and we don’t limit illustration to picture books which is the answer virtually all school children give me when I ask ‘what is illustration?’ at the start of a session. That includes the Year 10s I worked with last week, and even post-graduate illustration students seem puzzled when I ask them how they’d define illustration.

We say it’s art with a job to do, the art we see all around us, the art which helps us make sense of the world. It’s art that communicates without words – though typography is part of illustration – and it’s art that’s been around since before words. There’s a lovely animation here that illustrates (see what I did there?) all this much more eloquently that I have.

I love all these definitions and the learning strategy I’m currently writing has this as its mission, and I’m quite prepared to think of myself as an illustrator but…not a very good one, and I’d never apply the word ‘artist’ to myself. For that I blame school. Art, after second year comprehensive, was for people who were ‘good at’ art. I was not ‘good at’ art – the best mark I ever got was a B- for a drawing of mum’s avocado plant which I was very proud of, but that mark was all the feedback I got – nothing constructive, no next steps, no ‘try doing this’. I don’t remember ever being taught to draw, or indeed to use watercolours, to try typography, or collage, or any other art form – these were things you either could or couldn’t do, and no real effort was made to change this state of being. Presumably this changed when you got to do art GCSE, but I don’t know – maybe the teachers gave that sort of feedback then as exam results depended on a certain level, but also there was an expectation that if you were doing the subject you were already good at it. This still makes me sad, and I can see the impact that this sort of school experience has had on a lot of the adults we engage with: ‘I haven’t done this since school’, ‘I used to love painting in school but I was no good at it.’

Thing 1 did art at GCSE, and Thing 2 is in her first year of GCSEs and she gave me a tour of her sketchbook the other day – I was very impressed. I am biased but they’re a talented pair – they get it from their Dad, who did Art to A-level, and who is able to help them with this subject. I was impressed with their teacher, who didn’t require that they should be ‘good at’ the subject, only that they were passionate about it and prepared to put the time in. This, I think, is the right way to think. How will young people ever find out if they are artists (of any calibre) if they never get the chance to find out? Even if they find out that they aren’t ‘good at it’, they might find they get great joy out of it – mot a quantifiable outcome but still a very valid one.

The artist Bob and Roberta Smith said that every school should be an art school, and even Ofsted said last year that ‘art should command an important place in every school’. I’ve written about the importance of creativity – not just on wellbeing but on general thinking – previously and posed the query ‘what happens if you replace the word craft with the word art?’ Obviously I understand the pressures on the curriculum (which sadly begins in the early years, just when children should be free to explore all the amazing art and craft materials around them) and the pressures for schools to achieve certain levels of GCSEs and A-levels, and the EBacc, blah blah blah, but I also understand the importance of being given the space to create and explore and scribble and doodle (sorry, boss) and generally play with art and craft materials, even if you’re not ‘good at it’. I understand, too, that at primary school in particular the majority of teachers are not art specialists, and have been given only the most minimal training in how to deliver the subject.

The creative industries contributed £115.9billion to the UK economy in 2023 – OK, this is only 0.4% of UK GDP, 260,000 full time jobs, but this is growing year on year. The soft skills that come with creative learning – empathy, creative thinking and problem solving among others – are among those most highly valued by employers according to research by the Edge Foundation. Unfortunately the current pressures from government, tightening budgets throughout the education, bad PR around ‘creative’ degree subjects and more are drying up the pipeline of young people into these industries.

All this, by the way, was just a lengthy preamble to what I’ve been attempting to do this week, which is to try and draw the things I’ve seen around me – from Sunday to Tuesday I did the ‘draw my day’ thing but on the days I was in London I didn’t have time. I took photos of the things I saw on my travels though – I am finding myself drawn (if you’ll pardon the pun) to signage and buildings, as well as my usual plants, Landscapes are nice but I have no urge to draw them – I like small details rather than the big pictures, it seems. I don’t think I’ll be any threat to the livelihoods of any artists out there but I am really enjoying stopping and looking and then spending time focusing on details. So keep your B-, Mrs Allan, I’m having a go at drawing whether I’m any good at it or not.

Other things making me happy this week…

Making an effort to go for early morning walks on the days I work at home
A long walk yesterday morning- the floodwaters have receded so I managed to complete the loop I tried last week
Volunteering in the garden at Copped Hall with my Beloved and Thing 3 last week, except there was mud.
Interesting site tour with colleague Laura and Studio Weave. I like people who get excited at the potential of our site.

And that’s it from me for the week – half term this week, at least for the Horde.

Kirsty x

Cover image: Dial House – https://www.radical-guide.com/listing/dial-house/

What I’ve been reading:

The Cold Calling/Mean Spirit/Marco’s Pendulum/Marco and the Blade of Night – Phil Rickman

Greenwitch/The Grey King/Silver on the Tree – Susan Cooper (Audible)

Map Addict – Mike Parker

204: unexpected water hazards

Yesterday I accidentally went on a nearly-13km walk. I’d woken up at 6am and been unable to go back to sleep, so once I’d had a cup of coffee and had a bit of a read and since it wasn’t raining I decided I’d go for a bit of a wander in search of inspiration. My plan, such as it was, was to head to the farm to say good morning to the baby cows, turn around at 2.5km, pick up some milk and be back for breakfast. Yup, that sounds pretty straightforward, I hear you say. Baby cows, milk, breakfast.

Well, once I’d said good morning to the baby cows and arrived at the 2.5km point, I was feeling full of the joys of spring, as you do when the sun is shining, the bushes are full of robins and blue tits and there’s a good playlist on Spotify (a lot of glam rock, as it goes.). 10k felt doable, so I kept going into Toot Hill and turned down towards the wonderfully Hobbitish-named Clatterford End.

This is a lane that I’ve been down before, but always turned round at 5km as I don’t really know where it goes. Clatterford End isn’t really a place at all. So – and I can pinpoint this as the moment it all got out of hand – I looked at the map. Just a little Google, I thought, to see where the road goes. I might see some interesting things to put in my sketchbook at the end of the day, at the very least, and I might find some new footpaths to explore when swamp season is over in Essex. We’ve had so much rain recently that the clay is saturated and the footpaths are running water, so offroading was very definitely not in my plan.

Well, it turned out that if I carried on down this lane and turned left I would end up going in a big circle back to Toot Hill and it probably wouldn’t be much more than 10k. So I carried on. It was all going well- I even knew where I was which, as it happened, was a bit of a blessing. My mental map of the area had just connected a few dots….and then there was a flood, So deep it had an abandoned car on one of the banks. I could not go over it. I could not go under it, and I damn sure wasn’t going through it.

Offroad it was then. You can see from the map that there’s a weird loop-the-loop. This is where I opened the Ordnance Survey app, found a route back to the road which would take me past the flood, only to find that the footpath was blocked by brambles and more water. So I resigned myself to a trek along the Essex Way and it was exactly as swampy, sticky, slippy and slurpy as I expected it to be in early February. I muttered and grumbled and slipped and slid slowly back through to Toot Hill, glaring at small streams and puddles and passing dogwalkers, said hello to the baby cows again and stomped back up the hill. I remembered the milk though, and treated myself to a hot bath followed by tomato soup and a Spanish hot chocolate. And a nap.

I did get to draw my day, and was quite inspired by some road signs mostly as I didn’t feel brave enough to try sketching the baby cows. I did try the cherry blossom from the garden, and noted down my soundtrack and a lyric from one of my favourite songs. Saturday is clean sheets day, so that was marked too, and I took a leaf out of Bob Ross’s book and turned my mistake into a bird. I enjoyed playing with pencils and markers and colours, and I’m quite pleased with how it turned out.

Also this week…

Last Sunday the entire clan visited Get To know Animals, a relatively new mini-zoo and animal experience centre just outside Epping. It was an interesting experience – Thing 2 ended up traumatised by seeing two ring-neck parakeets attacking a quail in the bird enclosure. Grandthing 1 handled a rabbit called Gandalf that was almost as big as he was, and Thing 3 was given a ferret experience as a birthday present from his big sisters. He and my Beloved were rolling around the floor with them.

Thing 2 loves a ferret, and feels I should love them too. Actual conversation:

Thing 2: You should hold the ferret, mum

Me: No thank you

Thing 2: No no, hold the ferret, he’s really furry

Me: I do not want to hold a ferret, thank you.

Thing 2: <puts ferret on me>

Ferret: <sinks fangs into my chin>

Me: OOOWWWWWW

I liked the flirty alligator though and I’d happily adopt a cloud rat or take home a tortoise or two.

Thing 3 and I had a great night out seeing the RSC’s My Neighbor Totoro at the Barbican for his birthday treat – no photos are allowed, but I can say it was absolutely magical: the special effects for the Totoros, soot sprites and the Catbus were so cleverly done, and we had an amazing evening. It was his first theatre experience and it’ll be hard to beat. Thing 2 made him an amazing birthday cake.

Also…

Coffee and a good catch-up with an ex-Museum of London colleague
Taking part in a Careers Day at a school in East Ham
An inspiring meeting with the wonderful Parent House in Islington
Coffee with a friend at the King’s Head
Getting up to date with this year’s cross stitch temperature tracker

And that’s it for me – it’s been a pretty busy week, in and out of London and wrestling with the Central Line every day (ugh), but that does mean I have done a lot of crochet on the leafy scarf!

Same time next week then!

Kirsty x

What I’ve been reading:

Over Sea, Under Stone/The Dark is Rising/Greenwitch – Susan Cooper (Audible)

The Fever of the World/The House of Susan Lulham/The Cold Calling – Phil Rickman

Draw your Day – Samantha Dion Baker.

203: a wander through the realms of imagination

This week my team and I headed to the British Library to see the Fantasy: Realms of Imagination exhibition before it closes later this month. As I may have mentioned once or twice over the course of this blog, I love a bit of SF/F, so I was very excited about seeing this show.

Entering the space through a sparkling, fairy-lit forest portal (I knew it was going to be good) and avoiding the first hazard in the shape of a couple of school groups, we were immediately immersed in the very beginnings of fantasy through ‘Fairy and Folk Tales’. Highlights for me were glorious Arthur Rackham illustrations, a 1918 ‘Ancient Mappe of Fairyland’ by Bernard Sleigh and an earpiece playing Steeleye Span’s Thomas the Rhymer. It’s easy to dismiss fairy tales – especially if you grew up with the later, heavily sanitised Ladybird ‘Read it Yourself’ versions - but the original stories as written down by people like the Brothers Grimm were, well…. grim. One of my favourite childhood books, Alan Garner’s The Owl Service, was featured here along with a plate from the service which inspired it.

‘Epics and Quests’ was the second section, and of the things I liked about this exhibition was that it delved far deeper than the the European traditional forms of fantasy and ‘sword’n’sorcery’ tropes. Studio Ghibli’s Princess Mononoke appeared here, along with more of my all-time favourites in the shape of The Dark is Rising by Susan Cooper, T.H.White’s The Sword in the Stone, Tolkien in book and film (Gandalf’s staff!), and Warhammer. Tove Jansson’s illustrations for the Swedish translation of The Hobbit were included, with a rather trollish Gollum facing off with a behatted Bilbo Baggins. Apparently her depiction of Gollum caused Tolkien to amend his description to include the word ‘small’ in future editions! Dungeons and Dragons also popped up here, Livingstone and Jackson’s Fighting Fantasy series, and a marked up script for Monty Python and the Holy Grail. I refrained from quoting large swathes of the film, as I’d like my team not to think I’m a complete geek. Ha.

Section three covered ‘Weird and Uncanny’ – Valentina and I had great fun in the interactive wibbly wobbly space where you appeared as if by magic and went all swirly. Here there was also a game called Fallen London, a text-based RPG set in a London stolen by bats. Of course! Philippa Pearce’s Tom’s Midnight Garden was included, along with Neil Gaiman discussing The Sandman and the power of being a writer. H.P Lovecraft’s Cthulhu (that’s hard to spell) featured, and the board game A Study in Emerald based on a Neil Gaiman story.

Section four, ‘Portals and Worlds’, explored the alternative realities built by fantasy writers and artists. Here was Terry Pratchett’s Discworld Map, and a whole lot of schoolchildren building their own worlds with the help of a gallery educator. We had to step over them to see Elphaba’s costume from Wicked, as they were worldbuilding all over the floor. I felt there were some gaps - not enough urban fantasy which, given the quality of work in this genre over the last 30 years or so by people like Charles de Lint and Ben Aaronovitch, felt like a real missed opportunity. Finally there were some Live Action Role Play costumes including a spectacular dryad.

It was inevitable that I was going to leave the exhibition with a reading list! Uprooted by Naomi Novik and Gods of Jade and Shadow by Silvia Moreno-Garcia are the ones that caught my imagination.

I was quite disappointed to reach the end of the exhibition, which came far too quickly. The exhibition design was atmospheric, and managed to stay away from the whimsical in the main. It finishes later this month so get in quick!

Other things making me happy this week:

Mooch round the market with Miriam
A D&D game where I got to call down a lightning storm and be all Dr Strange
A birthday trip for Thing 3 on Saturday night to see My Neighbour Totoro at the Barbican, which I’ll write about next week
Starting a new scarf as my portable project, using this pattern. I had to adapt it as working into slip stitches all the time would be a nightmare. This is using a Stylecraft DK yarn that I bought in a sale a while ago.
Good progress on the temperature stitch for the year – I’m still not ready to start the books but the shelves are nearly done!

Now I must get up and make a banana cake….

Kirsty x

What I’ve been reading:

Friends of the Dusk/All of a Winter’s Night/The Fever of the World – Phil Rickman

The Chalice – Phil Rickman (Audible)

Over Sea, Under Stone– Susan Cooper (Audible)

Map Addict – Mike Parker

Draw Your Day – Samantha Dion Baker

202: my body is in the chair but my mind could be anywhere

On a trip up to Upper Street in Islington this week I was secretly quite excited to spot the estate agent Hotblack Desiato, whose name(s) were borrowed by Douglas Adams for the frontman of his fictitious rock band Disaster Area in The Restaurant at the End of the Universe, book two of the The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy trilogy. I’ve seen it before, of course, as I find myself frequently at that end of Islington for work at the moment, but it never fails to make me smile and I will always associate it with Ford Prefect. I wonder how many houses they have sold to Adams fans?

H2G2 – as it’s affectionately known – was probably one of my earliest introductions to SF/F, as my Dad had the original trilogy up on the top level of his bookshelf along with Anthony and Asimov (it was a very well-organised bookshelf, which filled an alcove in our living room and he made it to measure using wooden dowels and things. It was also very full). I still love it (though not the final Eoin Colfer addition, that’s bloody awful), although some of the other SF/F I was reading at the time is now a little dated, especially some of the sword and sorcery and Robert Heinlein, who was a very odd chap.

Places that appear in much loved books have such a hold on the imagination that sometimes I am afraid to visit them in case they don’t live up to it. I have read so much about Los Angeles, Chicago and New Orleans (OK, in crime novels, but still) that if they didn’t have the noir of my imagination I’d be very disappointed. I blame an American Studies module called ‘Images of the City in the American Mind’ for this – one of Sara Paretsky’s V.I Warshawski novels was on the reading list, featuring a wintry Chicago as a looming backdrop. The equivalent American Gothic course failed to capture my imagination in the same way, for some reason: Moby Dick, meh.

Similarly, I’d love to go to San Francisco after reading Armistead Maupin’s Tales of the City (thank you Amanda for introducing me to these) but only in the 1970s and 80s. 1930s Berlin as lived by Christopher Isherwood in Goodbye to Berlin (the one Cabaret was based on) is also on my time-travel bucket list. The magical France of Joanne Harris’s Chocolat series, Charles De Lint’s Newford, Tony Hillerman’s Navajo country – all these places have physical presence in my mind. I need a TARDIS or a bridge to Terabithia or something.

Even places I know well are enhanced by that fictional overlay, especially if what you’re reading is a little bit atmospheric and magical. Right now I’m re-re-re-reading Phil Rickman‘s Merrily Watkins series, set around the Welsh border country where we grew up and featuring a Diocesan exorcist. Drawing occasionally from local folklore (black hounds, apples and more which you can also read about in Ella Mary Leather’s Folklore of Herefordshire) and more modern aspects of Herefordshire (the SAS), along with aspects of police procedurals and mysteries, I recommend them frequently. Especially to people who also grew up there and understand just how weird it can be at times. His standalones are also good, with enough recurring characters across them all to build a believable world – Glastonbury, the border again, and a mossy bit of Manchester. (Phil, if you’re reading, can you crack on with the next Merrily please and thank you? At some point I’m going to run out again.) The TV adaptation of the first couple of books was dire, unfortunately, despite the presence of Anna Maxwell Martin as Merrily. The novels are grounded enough to be believable - as Phil himself says,

There’s probably a link here to my other reading pile of pyschogeography books – Ian Sinclair, Tim Moore, and other people armed with an A-Z and handy with a pen. London fascinates me in fact and in fiction and – unlike many of the places listed above – is easily accessed.

This week my team and I are having our monthly meeting at the British Library to see their Fantasy: Realms of Imagination exhibition, and the Malorie Blackman one if we have time.

Other things making me happy this week

An early morning walk through to Toot Hill on Saturday – chilly and sunny and it’s baby cow season already
Early coffee with Amanda in London
Late afternoon coffee with Cath in Epping
Making a personalised toadstool for Miriam’s birthday in her favourite colours
Lots of cross stitch and crochet
A really good nap (or ‘quality time with Lulu’, as she usually joins me for these siestas)
A Museums Association training course on Wellbeing at Work.

And that’s it for me for the week – I have some reading to do, you know.

Kirsty x

What I’ve been reading:

To Dream of the Dead/The Secrets of Pain/The Magus of Hay – Phil Rickman

The Chalice – Phil Rickman (Audible)

201: baby it’s cold outside

Well, this week has been a refreshing blast of actual winter cold between Storm Henk disappearing and Storm Isha landing. Short of snow, gorgeous cold sunshine is my favourite sort of wintry weather, with frosty mornings and ice on puddles to crack. We drove back across from Brittany to Calais on Monday, with Tan delivering a running temperature commentary as we went - zero degrees was the high point. As I’m doing both highs and lows on the temperature stitch this year I should be able to show contrasts in a way that I haven’t before.

The needle minder felt appropriate for this pattern!

This year’s tracker is the ‘Goth Stitch-a-Long Temperature Cabinet‘, by GrandmaBeWildin. As you can probably guess from the title, it’s a little less of a colour explosion than the last couple of years though for consistency I am going to use the same thread range for the temperatures. I’ve chose a printed aida fabric again, this time a parchmenty colour which reminds me of old library books. The cabinet is underway (only 4500 black stitches to go!) so hopefully by the end of the month I’ll be ready to start tracking. This year it’s a ‘book’ for every day in the high temperature, with a band that shows the low.

Of course this lovely cold snap also meant that Redricks Lake was frozen, with ice a good three inches thick. Yesterday’s dippers had fun with mallets breaking enough of a hole for people to dip, and despite the rise in temperatures today we still got to dip with the ‘bergs. It was our coldest dip yet at just one degree, so we were in for about three minutes before running for our robes and a hot chocolate!

Other things making me happy this week

Tea and cake with my gang of ladies, with the best china. Plans were laid for an alternative village WI which doesn’t meet on a weekday afternoon and which has interesting speakers.
The Brothers Sun on Netflix – Michelle Yeoh on top form
Restocking my supply of Surf-fizz at Carrefour
Lots of reading. Lots.
Breakfast meeting at Bench to start planning National Illustration Day 2024
Getting on top of the paperwork!
Meeting the Education Committee at Copped Hall Trust to talk about their schools programme

And now it’s time for a quick nap before the Things start demanding feeding…

Same time next week?

Kirsty x

What I’ve been reading

The Prayer of the Night Shepherd/The Smile of a Ghost/The Remains of an Altar/The Fabric of Sin – Phil Rickman

The Last Devil to Die – Richard Osman (Audible)

The Chalice – Phil Rickman (Audible)

200: surprise!

Here we are at post number 200, which is quite a lot and probably I should look back at the last 200 weeks and be all marvelly at what I’ve achieved. 200 posts is what I have achieved, despite Covid, labyrinthitis, new jobs, children, and general life happening all at the same time. Thanks to all of you who have been with me since the beginning (hello Mum, hello Dad, hello Fi), and to everyone else who’s dipped into my ramblings, roamings and adventures with the sewing machine.

Anyway, this week I am coming at you from a cold but sunny Brittany, where London sister and brother-in-law and I rocked up on Friday evening to surprise my mum for her significant birthday. I can’t tell you how old she is as she may make me sleep in the garden. Dad had managed to keep the secret, even sneakily making up the beds, hiding the extra baguettes in his office and putting the fizz on ice without Mum noticing.

Having left Ealing at 6am for a morning Eurotunnel crossing, we made good time across a snowy Normandy and a not-snowy Brittany – spotting the dozens of birds of prey, deer and trees full of mistletoe (at least while I wasn’t snoozing) and only running into a bit of traffic on the Rennes rocade where a combination of roadworks and rush hour conspired against us. At 7.10 Tan dropped me off at the bottom of the drive so Mum wouldn’t hear the car, and clutching the magazine featuring Irish sister Steph* I knocked on the door. Dad had apparently delayed their dinner as long as possible, so when the door went he said he hadn’t finished and made mum get up. She opened the door and stood and looked at me for about 30 seconds in total silence while her brain processed the fact that the daughter who was supposed to be in Essex was on her doorstep. And then I told her I’d hitched a lift with Tan and Darren…there were tears and hugs and much joy, as well as cursing Dad for being a sneaky so-and-so**.

On Friday Tan, Darren and I went for a walk along the Blavet to see if we could spot a coypu in the lagoon. We didn’t spot a coypu but we were lucky enough to catch a glimpse of a kingfisher, a heron, a kestrel, any number of ducks, a buzzard and a cormorant in its favourite tree. It’s a canalised river which flows through to Lorient, and the towpath is popular for walking and running. Last winter we did a 10 miler along there with a total ascent of about 3 metres, which tells you how flat it is!

One of the great mysteries of French life is when the polite passing greeting changes from ‘bonjour‘ to ‘bonsoir‘ – if you open with bonsoir, you can guarantee that they’ll come back at you with bonjour, so mostly we’ve given up and just start there. Yesterday’s walk was no different. On the outward stretch we bonjoured away merrily until we’d almost reached our turnaround point. Tan bonjoured a French gentleman who responded with ‘Non! Bonsoir! Nuit est arrive!‘. When we met him again close to his turnround point in Pont-Augan, I bonsoired him….to which is his response was ‘trop bonsoir!’. Er, what…. had we bonsoired him too many times? Was it too evening, in which case was there a third option of ‘bonne nuit‘? Duolingo – or, indeed, Mr Morgan French (to distinguish him from any other Mr Morgans at the school)- never covered this clearly tricky aspect of the language. Is it some secret French thing designed to catch out the tourists? Answers on a carte postale to the usual address, s’il vous plait.

We are here till Monday, when we’ll make the marathon trek back across to Calais. By then I confidently expect to be approximately 75% baguette.

*Women’s Weekly, since you ask, in a feature all about her live interpretation business, Time Steps. Steph had promised to send her a copy….

**censored, for the delicate ears of my readership

Other things making me happy this week

A great meeting with Little Angel Theatre about where we could work together
Kicking off a new project with our illustrator Alaa Alsaraji and Holborn Community Association’s Digital Arts Club
A swim with Sue and Rachel – the temperatures are heading downwards to extreme sports levels again!
Getting organised for this year’s temperature tracker and starting a new Hydrangea blanket as well as mounting last year’s.

Same time next week, mes amis

Kirsty x

What I’ve been reading:

Midwinter of the Spirit/A Crown of Lights/The Cure of Souls/The Lamp of the Wicked – Phil Rickman

The Last Devil to Die– Richard Osman (Audible)

Map Addict– Mike Parker

199: there’s a map for that

I picked up book called Map Addict in a charity shop a few weeks ago, by a chap called Mike Parker who apparently does all sorts of stuff on radio and telly about maps. I hadn’t heard of him, as he’s not doing it on Absolute Classic Rock, and I can’t bring myself to commit to Radio 4 quite yet. He may not still be doing it, I don’t know – I checked with my beloved who listens to R4 in his van, but he hadn’t heard of him either. Anyway, this book is described as ‘a tale of obsession, fudge and the Ordnance Survey’ and while I haven’t come across the fudge yet I am enjoying the story of the Ordnance Survey, and associated things like the politics around the prime meridian, the A-Z and the tube map.

Perhaps surprisingly for someone with no sense of direction, I love a map. I am building up my own little collection of OS maps, although sister Tan will tell you that me possessing a map is not the same as me being able to locate myself or, indeed, anything else. She has an excellent sense of direction, whereas I can’t find myself on a circular route unless we start at the beginning. Heck, who am I kidding? I can’t find myself in a large Sainsburys. I have found the OS map app very handy in the last year or so, as it has a little arrow that shows me where I am and which direction to go next. I love walking around my local area (aka ‘the flyblown wasteland’ as Tan refers to Essex) and take mental notes of footpath signs to explore when I’m rambling. If I can locate those on my paper maps when I get home I can plot out a rough route, and just hope I can follow it…

Google Maps is more of a challenge, however. On the rare (usually only once per driver) occasions I was handed a map and asked to navigate in those exciting pre-SatNav days, I discovered that the only way I can make sense of them is to hold them in the direction of travel. If you try this with Google Maps the phone autorotates and so it can take me three or four attempts to make the little blue arrow go down the right road. As for TfL directions which say things like ‘continue down Acacia Avenue for 500m’, well – this is fine when you’ve just got off a bus, but less so when you’ve exited a tube station from several levels underground and have no idea which way that is. External meetings in my new role were an adventure for the first couple of months as it was always hit or miss whether I could navigate back – my mental map of Farringdon is a bit better now, fortunately! I had the same problem when I started at Docklands, as Canary Wharf was very disorienting and the museum wasn’t very well known. After a few months I start building up my mental map, and I try and take different routes around the area to embed it.

As a form of illustration and source of information, though, maps fascinate me. When my Dad would occasionally have an interview in other parts of the UK – like England! – I loved to look up places around it and find funny village names on the map (Piddletrenthide, anyone?). I like the OS maps for finding little curiosities like archaeological sites – even if there’s nothing to see there now, I like knowing that something was there once. The London Underground map is a work of art, and colleagues have been known to use me as a travel planner (although not for walking routes), and I can spend hours falling down the rabbithole of sites like Bombsight (sadly not working at the moment), Layers of London and the Booth Maps, making links between modern and old London.. Maps in fantasy novels enchant me, and I’ll be making a trip with my team to the British Library’s current exhibition Fantasy: Realms of Imagination later this month.

Anyway, Mike Parker’s book is great – if you, like me, enjoy finding out how places like Greenwich became the centre of navigation (to annoy the French, apparently), and whose brilliant idea it was to triangulate the whole of the UK and what happens when bits fall into the sea, then I recommend this book as an entertaining and informative read. I’ve just ordered his book on the history of public footpaths, too, and added a few more to the wishlist.

Other things making me happy this week:

New Year’s Eve with friends
New Year’s Day swim with several of the same friends
A mooch round the market with Miriam (and a new jumper)
Early morning hot chocolate with Amanda
Finishing the Temperature Supernova and deciding on this year’s tracker
Finishing my very snuggly cardigan using The Maker’s Atelier Raw-edged coat pattern, and binding my Double Down Dress
Seeing my sister’s company featured in Woman’s Weekly magazine this week
Not the flipping rain though, no. Or tube strikes when I have to get to work. Not them either.

See you next week!

Kirsty x

What I’ve been reading:

Map Addict – Mike Parker

December/Wine of Angels/Midwinter of the Spirit – Phil Rickman

The Man Who Died Twice/The Last Devil to Die – Richard Osman (Audible)