By day, I'm the Head of Learning and Participation at a small illustration charity, and the happiest commuter on the Central Line with crochet hook and Audible subscription.
After hours, mother of three kids, staff to three cats, slave to the smoke alarm. Hoarder of yarn and fabric, maker of stuff, obsessive reader. Walker with ambitions.
On Friday it was soooo muggy that I gave up on indoors and spent the afternoon working in the garden shelter, watched occasionally by next door but one’s cat Ziggy and some pigeons. Not at the same time though, as Zig has a well-founded reputation as a mighty hunter and has been plotting to poach our roof-pigeons for quite some time. He sits on our conservatory roof and watches them, and they peer down at him from the guttering. One day he’ll make the leap…
He’s a very beautiful ginger tom who – like all animals – is a sucker for my Beloved and also for the nepeta planted near our pond. The pictures above are a before and after set for his plant love-in. The Chinese rhubarb on the other side of the pond is considerably less battered as Ziggy and the occasional other cat visitor doesn’t luxuriate in it. The nepeta was almost completely demolished but is making a comeback. As long as they leave the newt who has recently taken up residence in the pond alone they can keep the plants!
The pigeons, on the other hand, were mostly side-eyeing me as they stripped the blackcurrant bush of pretty much every last currant. I don’t mind this as we never really do anything with them other than make blackcurrant vodka if there’s enough, and also if they’re nicking the currants they’re not eating the strawberries. I am mostly eating the strawberries and the raspberries: there is nothing like a perfectly ripe strawberry picked in the sunshine and eaten still warm.
The promised thunderstorms scheduled for Friday afternoon and evening failed to appear, though it is at least a bit fresher with some breezes. Today we have the family round for a Father’s Day barbecue, which is causing me to wonder why I am supposed to have an encyclopaedic knowledge of what was put in the freezer after the last barbecue in April.
A full moon swim at Redricks Lake on Wednesday night – the water was hovering about 20 degrees, and I was feeling lazy so I mostly dipped and enjoyed the atmosphere. It’s always so pretty with the fairy lights.
And that’s it from me for the week – I’m off for a swim this morning to set me up for the day, then a bit of sewing to finish the prom dress before the hordes descend!
A happy Father’s Day to my excellent dad, too! He may need to re-register his Kindle as apparently we can no longer buy Amazon.com e-gift cards to be sent outside the US.
Kirsty x
What I’ve been reading:
Anna Again/My Favourite Mistake – Marian Keyes
Shadowlands – Matthew Green
The Gilded Nest – Sarah Painter
Earl Crush/Ne’er Duke Well – Alexandra Vasti
The Secret Service of Tea and Treason – India Holton
A Demon’s Guide to Wooing a Witch – Sarah Hawley
Hex Appeal/Hex and the City/Hex and Hexability – Kate Johnson
On Wednesday I attended – from the comfort of my living room – a session of the What Next? culture group. This is a wide-ranging, first-thing-in-the-morning, ‘free-to-access movement that brings together small and large organisations and freelancers to debate and shape arts & culture in the UK’. I don’t get to attend them very often as Wednesdays are usually my later-into-the-office days due to teenager wrangling responsibilities.
Anyway, this week’s was about the power and importance of reading to small children from a very early age. One of the speakers was the Children’s Laureate Frank Cottrell-Boyce who pledged at the start of his Laureateness (Laureacy?) to campaign to reduce reading inequality through the Reading Rights campaign. The first report has recently been published, calling on national and local leaders in early years, health, education and culture to come together and make reading a part of daily life for every child in the first seven years of life.
Mr C-B spoke about visiting the Babylab at Queen Mary’s in East London, where he watched in real time as a mother and baby were wired up to a brainwave thingy and the mother read a story to the baby on her knee. The act of being read to by a loved one visibly calmed the baby’s chaotic brain waves, their heart rate, and their breathing came into sync. He called it ‘love at a synaptic level’. From this mum’s point of view, too, there is nothing quite like the feeling of a warm, sleepy baby or toddler snuggling in for a story at the end of the day. I recognise, too, that the act of reading is also a privilege.
“If you’ve been read to, as a child, by someone who cares about you, you have been given an enormous invisible privilege. If you haven’t been given that privilege, then you’ve been left with an enormous mountain to climb.”
Frank Cottrell-Boyce
According to BookTrust’s research, 95% of families know that reading is really important but only 42% of children in lower-income families get a regular bedtime story. There are a whole lot of reasons for that – aside from parents possibly not having that experience themselves as a child, or lacking the confidence in their own reading skills to read a story ‘properly’ – but a key reason is that living in poverty or need is really, really hard. You spend time in meetings with benefits people. You spend time getting to places on public transport getting to meetings or the supermarket with the cheapest food, or on hold to government organisations, or sorting out housing, or working one or more minimum wage jobs, or worrying about your electric or gas or other bills. All this as well as caring for your small person…. the mental bandwidth this all takes up is enormous and things like bedtime stories aren’t always top of the list. Survival is.
Those of us who grew up with being read to nightly – and, with the benefit of younger siblings to listen in on later – for many years are lucky. I did the same with my own children – I was certainly still reading chapter books to my reluctant reader Thing 2 when she was eight or nine and Things 1 and 3 were listening in. M.M.Kaye’s The Ordinary Princess was a favourite, as was Jill Tomlinson’s The Owl Who Was Afraid Of The Dark which we took on holiday and I read a chapter a night to my three and my niece. Bedtime story time was one of the joys of being a parent, honestly, even when I was in the depths of PND and could barely function. It was a moment of peace and routine in what were some very hard days, but then books are my own go-to moment of sanity as an adult so this makes sense for me. Admittedly there were days when the fifth or sixth reading of the same book got a little wearing, but there we are.
Cottrell-Boyce also made the excellent point that children who aren’t read to at home then encounter books for the first time when they get to school and they’re suddenly being asked to sit down and decode things they have no experience of. Books become difficult and scary, and not something to be experienced as a joy: these children aren’t making the connection between the words in front of them and the pictures on the page because they don’t have the literacy capital to do so. He likened this experience of reading as being presented with a recipe to cook before you have ever experienced food – the pain without the pleasure, as it were. Illustrations are the first encounters with visual art that children have. Illustration – as I say a lot to people in my day job – is art with a job to do, it’s art that communicates.
The wonderful BookTrust are working with Cottrell-Boyce on this campaign. The BookStart scheme, which provides families with free books via health visitors and libraries, is the last man standing from the brilliant SureStart scheme that was one of the great successes of the New Labour government. Early Years provision has been steadily eroded over the last 14 years which has removed an enormous and incredibly important level of support from the people who desperately needed it. Increasing free childcare is all very well, (before someone says ‘but they’re doing this for parents’) but – in reality – that’s aimed at getting adults back into work and isn’t a benefit for the family. The other problem with increasing free childcare provision, of course, is that it’s not properly funded so early years settings are closing as they can’t actually afford to pay the staff to provide the care. That’s a rant for another day, however – another conversation this week was about the cost of childcare.
In our local Tesco’s they have a ‘free children’s books’ stand by the checkouts, which is brilliant – adult books are offered for a donation but for small people they are free. There are Little Free Libraries popping up in disused phone boxes and bus shelters and train stations. Libraries – thank the lord – are still free and anyone can use them, even if (like my local one) they’re only open two days a week. Librarians – a big shout out to this amazing bunch of people – still do free RhymeTime or Storytime sessions. But if people haven’t grown up with libraries as part of their lives they may not have the confidence to go in – like museums and galleries, there’s an ‘is this for me?’ barrier to get through. I’m not sure what the answer is, but this campaign might be a good start. I’m in a position to be part of the change as I start to plan what our Early Years and Families programme will look like when we open in 2026: there has always been a plan for regular storytime, sharing books and illustrations with our visitors, but now I can back it up with science and stuff. Hurray!
A catch up with Emma T on Friday, covering cats, small people, and what’s going on in the world of museum research. She’d been to Cardiff the weekend before to visit a mutual friend, and she also got to meet one of my force-of-nature cousins. Honestly, we are EVERYWHERE.
An afternoon at Copped Hall last Sunday, chasing around the GT2. I am out of practice at the toddler thing!
Salad. I like salad. A lot.
This Pangolin amigurumi – I love pangolins! They always look like they need to tell you something very important.
A happy commuter moment on Friday when I was crocheting on the tube, finishing off a little apple amigurumi. A family opposite me were off on a day trip and the little girl was very excited watching me give the apple a leaf and a mouth. When I’d finished it I gave her the apple and I think it made my day. They were off to Paddington Station to see the bear statue and then to see the Natural History Museum, so I extracted a solemn promise that she’d say hello to Paddington and give him a marmalade sandwich. ‘We’ve GOT marmalade sandwiches!’ she said in very serious tones. I hope they had a good day – I know I did after this joyful exchange.
The strawberries coming ripe in the garden in large quantities.
Meeting Oliver Jeffers, who wrote one of our all-time favourite bedtime stories. I probably should be a bit more chilled about these things by now but I’m not. I was very well behaved though.
Things I am withholding judgement on this week include Thing 2’s prom skirt which she had a very clear plan for and which I am making from duchesse satin with an embroidered tulle overskirt, and (of course) pockets. I may try and negotiate on the pockets and provide a matching wrist bag instead. She also wants a ‘train’ so no one can see her feet, despite the invention of shoes. I’m glad I fitted a tissue paper toile on her yesterday morning as the size we’d printed going on her measurements wasn’t big enough, so I could reprint at the next size up and do another fit check before cutting the fabric. I’ve bought from this designer before and have always had to contact her about missing instructions, or fabric quantities, and the instructions always assume a lot of prior knowledge so I wouldn’t buy from her as a beginner. The one moment of joy (for me, at least) is that she was hoping a pair of my glam and presumably now vintage heels would fit her but NO, they’re all too small. Actually – I’m also quite joyful that she bought the corset top and didn’t ask me to make that. She had a very clear idea about what she wanted to wear, and what colour, and of course she couldn’t find the perfect thing in the shops… this summer I will be teaching her to use a sewing pattern. It would have been more helpful if she’d stayed home with me so I could start sewing, but nooooooo…..that’s my day gone today then!
Things not making me happy this week include the doctor’s surgery. By Wednesday evening I had spent more than two hours on hold to the surgery just waiting to speak to the reception team. Phone call one had been in mid-May, where I’d asked for a prescription to be updated to reflect an increase in my medication prescribed by their out of hours doc. The surgery just reissued the existing prescription. Phone call two – Monday – repeated request. They texted me and said the prescription had been issued. Chemist says yes but it’s two separate prescriptions so you need to pay twice, phone the surgery again and ask for them to be issued as a single script. Phone call three – explain again that I don’t actually want to pay ÂŁ20 for what’s basically one prescription, could they issue this as one script with the full dose on it. This apparently made sense to me and the receptionist, but not to the doctor whose response – not to me, of course – was that they don’t make 30mg pills. I discovered this in phone call four, which was where I channelled my inner Dad and explained that I was FINE taking a 20mg and a 10mg tablet at the same time but I’d rather not be charged twice. Yes, said the receptionist, I understand and it shouldn’t have taken this many phone calls. Phone call five after waiting for eight hours wasn’t answered after 1 hr 40 minutes even though surgery was open. Phone call six, the following morning, was with YET ANOTHER receptionist (how many do they have?) who was adamant that what I was asking couldn’t be done even though I’d been assured that it could by our amazing village pharmacist – who presumably knows what can and can’t be done with a prescription and who I’d phoned in sheer desperation. He offered to send a note to the surgery explaining the problem in case it helped. I asked to speak to a doctor, who phoned me back two hours later, and three minutes and three seconds later (including pleasantries) I had the prescription, it was sent to the chemist and was ready for me when I tumbled through their door four minutes before closing. It should not have been so hard….
So, I am fully medicated, and today I will be finishing the prom skirt (I hope!). Watch this space…
Kirsty x
What I’ve been reading:
Shadowlands – Matthew Green
Woodston – John Lewis-Stempel
Between the Stops – Sandi Toksvig
Ring the Hill – Tom Cox (Audible)
Greetings from Bury Park – Sarfraz Manzoor (Audible)
Over the last few weeks I have been immersing myself in the Herefordshire countryside courtesy of the writings of John Lewis-Stempel who farms in the border hills (Merrily country, for fans of the late Phil Rickman) and who writes beautiful prose about the most prosaic of things. Who would have thought – speaking as someone bored rigid by the few Young Farmers Club meetings I attended – that the life of a wood or a year in a field would be so interesting? I admit my original interest was piqued by the fact that he’d written a book with a picture of a hare on the front, but that’s me…
His books are pragmatic but interspersed with poetry by people like Edward Thomas and Robert Frost, both of whom spent a lot of time in the area before the First World War. He delves into local language and folklore and in Woodston he traces the history of the land from the earliest hunter-gatherers onwards.. He’s realistic about what it takes to conserve a wood or a field; he shoots grey squirrels (non-native) to allow native birds to thrive as the squirrels steal whole clutches of eggs. There are no ‘oh no, my sheep broke its legs in a ditch, the vet must work miracles!’ moments – the sheep gets shot too.
There’s no woolly ‘rewilding’ although there is an experimental love of traditional methods which bring back wildlife to the area – not by adding beavers but by farming without pesticides for a year, for example, or by managing woods through coppicing, and allowing sheep, pigs and cows to forage and in doing so fertilise and turn over the land, bringing back insects and the larger animals that feed on them. It reminded me very much of the old lady that swallowed the fly, in fact. There is no anthropomorphization of trees and animals – Tolkien’s Ents don’t come into his equation. Trees are trees are trees. Animals do what animals do, and this is right. I get the feeling that Lewis-Stempel genuinely loves the land and cares for it in much the same way as his ancestors – who also farmed in the area – have done for the past seven centuries. He describes himself as a countryside writer rather than a nature writer as he’s writing about the land and the life it supports.
Eyes down, a shadow giantess
traverses faultlines
mapped into Essex clay.
Hooves have printed fossils in the tilth.
She looms over bean trees,
scattering spiders as she goes
while plough-shattered flints
heliograph the sun.
I’ve been doing a lot of field trails in the last couple of months as I’ve been training for various walks – at least once they dried out a bit – and I’ve found myself more interested in the hedges and edges as a result of this reading. A local site on the north of Epping Forest has been bought by Nattergal to be restored as wildlands, and at some point I’ll get round to visiting and hopefully learning a bit more. I may even try to walk there. I have one of those custom OS maps which is proving very useful indeed – where we live is inconveniently placed on the official maps so putting North Weald at the centre allows me to plot walks in advance so I know roughly where I want to go. Last week I traced a footpath I’d spotted when we were on our way to collect Thing 3.
I’ve also been listening to Tom Cox on Audible. I first encountered Cox via his Twitter account which featured his sad cat, The Bear, and then I found one of his extremely funny books in our local Oxfam. I’ve since read all his cat (and golf and music) books. He began to write about walking and the countryside about ten years ago – still with added cats and his VERY LOUD DAD – but in a psychogeography mode as he wasn’t attempting to farm the land; only to live in it. His 21st Century Yokel, Ring the Hill and Notebook are non-fiction, and Help the Witch is sometimes a weird blur of short story and semi-autobiography. He’s graduated into strangely psychedelic novels which I also enjoy, but I do prefer his walking books.
I think my love of reading about nature probably stemmed from Cicely Mary Barker’s Flower Fairies books, which were botanically extremely realistic – well, probably not the fairies, but definitely the flowers. These allowed me to identify flowers confidently, if not accurately as my mother insists on saying 40+ years later. This, by the way, is a very useful skill for both teachers and parents, and has even been known to work on my Beloved who is now very suspicious of all my pronouncements.
To be fair – and almost certainly as a result of spending way too much time on trains, the top of buses and roaming the streets of the city – I’m also equally likely to be reading books about the history or psychogeography of London (Iain Sinclair is a favourite). Right now my work reading at lunchtime is Sandi Toksvig’s Between the Stops, which is as much about the history of Dulwich and wider London as it is about herself. People are interesting, and so are places. The stories of people in places are even better.
Delivering the last of the sea creatures to the British Library – now making mini jellies and looking forward to making some new stock for summer stalls
A gorgeous swim with the ladies last Sunday
A ten-mile trek exploring a new footpath on Monday
Our first Access Panel on Friday morning
Dinner out with quite a lot of the family on Friday
The library reserves and loans system
This morning I may get out for a walk but GT2 is staying over while his Mama TT2 and Thing 1 are off at a festival. I have not missed being woken up by a small foot in my face, I can tell you. He is a very mobile sleeper, this one, but at least we have a new airbed and I’m not trying to share the sofa with him this time. I may be forced to wake up Thing 2 and hand the little octopus over for the morning…
See you next week!
Kirsty x
What I’ve been reading:
The Wood/Woodston – John Lewis-Stempel
Vianne – Joanne Harris
21st Century Yokel/Ring the Hill – Tom Cox (Audible)
Well, my feet have just about stopped aching after last Sunday’s Goring Gap half-marathon walk along the Thames, although stairs were definitely not my favourite thing until at least Thursday. I came in 119th out of 124 (and last in my age group!) but since I knocked 22 minutes off my predicted time I am quite happy with that. I quite like a half marathon distance as if you start in the morning you can be done by lunchtime and the rest of the day’s your own. Tan finished in two and a quarter hours, and I was in at three hours and eight minutes. There was some unscientific jogging in the first 5k (because I felt like it!) but mostly it was fast walking.
The weather was perfect for a walk – sunny and warm but not too hot, and the route was mostly flat. The worst bit of climb was the railway bridge at Purley at 10k which went up from the Thames to quite far up a steep slope. The last couple of kilometres weren’t a lot of fun either, on a flint path with a long slow climb. Even the field full of alpacas couldn’t improve it. It was a well-organised event with good signage and friendly volunteers at the two feed stations, and I got to see lots of cygnets, goslings, red kites and friendly hounds.
The cheese and ham sandwich and bag of Frazzles produced by Tan when we got back to her flat was the tastiest food ever!
Later in the week I was back over in Ealing with the rest of the team to catch a bus to Brentford for a tour of the London Museum of Water and Steam. We started with a team picnic in Waterman’s Park, watched by a the usual London throng of optimistic pigeons and overlooking the river where a heron stalked the island shallows, geese shared my crisps and a coot bobbled up and down pecking at weed.
We were taken on a tour of the steam engines which were HUGE and which raised questions about how these would have been oriented in our own little engine house in Clerkenwell. These water pumping engines have several storeys of water below ground, and rise up three storeys too. One of the water tanks has a population of goldfish, and another has a wonderful crop of ferns.
We met the museum cat, Piper, who lives in the office during the day and roams the museum at night keeping the mice down. Mice are inevitable in buildings unpopulated at night – I have never worked in a museum without them – so a cat is an excellent idea. We haven’t quite persuaded our Director yet but we’re working on it….
I was extremely excited to see the tailfeathers of one of the standpipe tower’s peregrine falcons peeking over the edge. The ‘Splashzone’ watery play area is immediately below – naturally we tested it! – and apparently the peregrines have a habit of dropping parakeet heads off the tower into the play area which can be a bit disconcerting for young visitors. You can see me below making the archimedes screw move water up – taken by one of my colleagues.
The museum is fascinating, telling the story of steam and clean water in London, and the sheer monumental size of the engines is awe-inspiring. When they were installed they apparently brought the beams in and then engineered them downwards. They have to be perfectly straight otherwise the pistons will catch on the sides and wear down so the level of precision needed for these huge machines is startling. The engines weren’t ‘in steam’ sadly but they do have steam weekends monthly which I bet are great fun. If you visit between now and October you can also see the beautiful interventions by artist-in-residence Dr Jasmine Pradissitto in the ‘Tender Machines‘ displays.
Other things making me happy this week
On Tuesday I joined Such Stories (aka Laura and Jo) for a family workshop, where we saw some of last year’s play project participants and made some new friends.
Discovering Resident Alien on Netflix (an excellent turn by Alan Tudyk) – very funny indeed.
Seasons 4-6 of Northern Exposure all appearing on Amazon Prime
A surprise parcel at work which turned out to be a Quentin Blake original from Kids in Museums – QB had drawn the ‘Museum of his Dreams’, and they thought we might like it.
The new Joanne Harris novel (a new sequel to Chocolat) appearing on my Kindle.
John Lewis-Stempel’s gorgeous nature writing. I love his books about his Herefordshire home.
Finishing Cahokia Jazz by Francis Spufford. A recommendation from a colleague, this has turned out to be one of the best books I’ve read in years. One of those books that – when you finish it – leaves you sitting there thinking about it. The ones that leave you feeling like Holden Caulfield in the Salinger quote below.
“What really knocks me out is a book that, when you’re all done reading it, you wish the author that wrote it was a terrific friend of yours and you could call him up on the phone whenever you felt like it. That doesn’t happen much, though.”
JD Salinger, The Catcher in the Rye
At some point this weekend I’ll go for a walk – I spotted a new footpath when we went up to collect Thing 3, which I looked up on my map and worked out a route back through to Ongar. I need to keep up my speed for Cardiff in October. I’d like to break the three hour mark!
Same time next week, gang. I don’t think I’ve got any river-related activities planned but you never know…
This week’s adventure was to Myddelton House and Gardens in Enfield, which was the home of – among others – a chap called E A Bowles. It’s now the HQ of the Lee Valley Regional Park Authority and has been recently restored with the help of those nice people at the National Lottery Heritage Fund. I was shown around by the head gardener and we made some early plans for linking up with other organisations along the route of the New River.
E A Bowles was, apparently, never supposed to have owned the house: in the way of younger brothers at the time, he was destined to have been a vicar but his older brother died early so he ended up inheriting instead. By all accounts he seems to have been one of more useful members of the gentry, setting up night classes for local youngsters and giving them practical skills, hosting village events on the lawns, acting as a lay preacher and forming a local cricket team. Many of the ‘Bowles Boys’ went on to great things.
He was happiest in his garden, however, and it still shows. A crocus expert whose illustrations are held by the Royal Horticultural Society, he filled the garden with plants he loved rather than decorative borders. The ‘Lunatic Asylum’ area contains oddities – he was the first to propagate twisted hazel in the UK – while the walls and trees are draped with glorious swags of purple wisteria.
The New River (that again, sorry) used to flow through the gardens but he wasn’t allowed to plant anything in it, so instead he bordered it with irises which reflected into the waters and dug a large pond where he could plant anything he liked. The river’s course was straightened in the 19th century and a lawn now reflects the old route. The water was so hard Bowles was surprised he couldn’t walk on it: the result of the chalk aquifer and streams that fed it.
A leak from the river fed the Rock Garden, his most loved area. I was told that he used to bury empty bottles upright in the leak (or possibly leat, I don’t know) to capture the water and use it to water the gardens so none was wasted. The route from the main road crosses the New River although the river path is closed for works, but I did get to stand and look into the surprisingly fast flowing waters.
Attached to the main house is a gorgeous conservatory-full of succulents, and there are further glasshouses in the kitchen garden with peaches and more succulents. We’re going back in half term, hopefully, for a longer explore. Scattered about the garden are stone pieces – the old Enfield Market Cross (I also saw the Eleanor Cross in Waltham Cross on the way home), parts of the old London Bridge, and two tall wire ostriches who replaced original stone ones which now live in the little Bowles Museum by the tea room.
With free entry from 10-5 every day (earlier in winter) this is well worth a visit, and you could also take in Forty Hall and farm which is virtually next door. There’s some lovely footpaths and parkland to explore, and a monthly farmers’ market. Gunpowder Mills isn’t too far in between Waltham Cross and Waltham Abbey, but if you’re jonesing for more gardens Capel Manor is also very close.
The New RiverTurkey BrookOld brick structures in the brook at Forty HallA cool sign
Seeing my sea creatures in the British Library’s new Story Explorers family exhibition. Our director and I were invited, so we explored outer space and the jungle. Running into ex-Young V&A colleagues was a bonus, as was a quick catch-up with storyteller Emily Grazebrook who worked with families to co-design the exhibition. If you have small people, go and visit – it’s free but you will need to book
Forest ramble to loosen up my legs before today’s half marathon in the Goring Gap. Glad the weather has cooled a bit!
I love secret bits of London and this week the work gang got to see the fabulous Oak Room at New River Head. Not the bit of New River Head that we’re turning into a brand new gallery and gardens, but the bit that’s currently a very grand set of flats on Rosebery Avenue. The header image this week is ‘London from Islington Hill, by Thomas Bowles, c. 1740. New River Head, centre-left, Upper Pond in foreground’. This is from British History Online.
The New River (its compulsory to say at this point that it’s not new and it’s not a river) was finished in 1613 and brought clean water from springs in Hertfordshire to Islington, and from there it was distributed to the City and later to further afield in London via elm pipes. The New River Company was one of the earliest – if not the earliest – joint stock companies, headed by a Welsh goldsmith/engineer/all-round clever chap called Hugh Myddelton. His brother became Lord Mayor of London (the Dick Whittington sort rather than the Sadiq Khan sort) on the very day that the New River was officially opened with lots of pomp and ceremony. There are several excellent books about it, including The Mercenary River by Nick Higham which is well worth a read. Even the King was a shareholder, putting up half the money to build the river in return for half the profits – which also worked to convince the local landowners to let HM dig a river across their lands. The river followed the 100ft contour, so gravity brought it down to London, with a five inch drop over every mile. You can find some pictures of the route here.
The river originally finished at the Round Pond, where the flats are now, and the Water House was where the offices were. The Oak Room was commissioned by the company engineer in 1693, and it was a mark of how important it was that the portrait of King William III that decorates the ceiling was done by the official court painter. The ceiling is covered in plasterwork showing some very fierce dolphins looking like Chinese dragons, swans and other waterbirds, scenes from along the New River, and is incredibly detailed. The dolphins reminded me of this figure we had in the ‘A Pirate’s Life for Me’ exhibition at Museum of Childhood.
It’s called the Oak Room, though, because of the oak carvings – probably done by Grinling Gibbons or at least his workshop. There’s an unusual unicorn in the coat of arms with a most excellently pointy horn, for example, and the carvings around the fireplace include a very cute crab, crayfish, fishing nets and other watery equipment, plants and various fish. Oak is apparently very hard to carve, and the intricate work here is quite stunning. We were lucky enough to be shown around by an expert on the history of the river, who also came to our offices to give us a talk a couple of weeks ago. In its original position in the Water House the room gave a view of St Paul’s Cathedral and the City, but has been turned around in its new home where it was installed in 1920. The head of the Metropolitan Water Board used it as a dining room, apparently, and had a special chair made from the boarding of the Round Pond when it was decommissioned. Now you can see our Engine House from it, complete with scaffolding where our construction team are busy bringing it back to life.
The block of flats itself is very grand, and the entrance includes the seals of all the water companies which were folded into the MWB in 1904. The seal of the New River Company has the hand of Providence over London and the motto ‘and I caused it to rain upon one city’, which made a change from everyone else’s gods and greenery. The ground floor has a huge open space where people used to come and pay their water bills – it looks more like a ballroom – and the carved MWB seal is still over the front door. Parts of the pond revetment can still be seen too.
Our next visit is to the London Museum of Water and Steam in a couple of weeks – can you detect a theme? I’m also going to visit Myddelton House and Gardens on the route of the New River. Lots of history incoming, London fans….
Dropping the first batch of sea creatures off at the British Library, including my very psychedelic crab. Needle felting all the faces was very therapeutic.
A long walk last Sunday rambling along the river Roding, seeing hares again and a whole lot of ducklings
All the Threads about President Barbie of the new country of Mattel. Apparently Crayola are drawing up the trade agreements. See also: Puppet Regime
I’ve had a couple of conversations this week at work about focusing so much on the small stuff that the far away stuff is getting away from us. The small stuff (well, a monumental horse, if you can consider that small) is what’s keeping me awake at night these days, and then while I’m worrying about the horse in the wee small hours I remember all the other stuff I have to do that isn’t getting done because of the horse and then rooooouuuunnnnnd we go again. The poor horses in the fields on my walking route are probably wondering why I am cursing them and glaring as I walk past. They haven’t done anything apart from look like horses, obviously, but I’m not being selective with my equine animosity right now.
Part of this is trying to be several people all at once. Thank heavens for the return of my Community Partnerships Producer who is looking rested after a few weeks in Italy with her family, or at least she did until she walked into my personal maelstrom. She works two days a week with us, so in a few weeks we’ll be looking for the other half of her role but right now I am that other half and summer is always an intense period for community work. We’re building our centre with a desire to be a place where the community feels at home, and unlike at Young V&A we don’t have a 150 year history in the borough so we need to set out our stall now, letting people know we’re coming and that we want this to be a place for them. This means popping up at the summer festivals and chatting to people. This is an excellent part of my job, but then I have to find other people to do it with me and for some reason not everyone wants to work weekends. The horse project is also a community thing, but it’s proving a little tricky to recruit participants.
I had a really invigorating meeting with one of the festival organisers from the council on Thursday – one of those amazing conversations where ideas bounce off each other and things come together. It spun on into the next meeting, with a small crossover where I introduced the illustrator to the producer and things blossomed. Thursday, in fact, was all about meetings. The Radical Rest session I listened to while I was working on things that couldn’t wait (Sorry Kate, I know I missed the point!) was, ironically, about burnout in the cultural sector and there have been moments in the last couple of weeks where I’ve been ticking off a lot of the symptoms.
Schools remain within my remit: this week a school approached me about a CPD, which they initially wanted in September but then moved to July. Because all our sessions are tailored to the needs of each school, I have to meet with the school to work out what they want, reach out to the fabulous freelance illustrators who actually deliver the sessions, and do the admin around it. Schools session bookings have been honed over the years – from working closely with the bookings teams at London Museum through many years, taking bookings myself rather than remaining at arm’s length so I understand what needs to happen. There’s still admin around this, of course: sending invoice requests and confirmations, making sure the illustrator is in place and has all the materials they need.
Developing and piloting new sessions is on the radar: a science x history x illustration session which we need to deliver to six schools in the next term. Working with the lead facilitator to identify dates, locating a second facilitator and getting their dates, reaching out to schools who you’d think would like free sessions on local history but who actually take emails, a phone call to make sure they’ve got the email, resending the email as they probably just deleted it the first time, and then checking back up later to organise a conversation where I tell the teachers all the things they’d know if they’d just read the damn email in the first place. Developing the resources that support the session; making sure the materials are ready, doing the schools bookings admin, reporting to the funders, attending the sessions, evaluating the sessions. We’ll be recruiting someone for this soon as well, and they’ll be working on family programmes for when we open.
With my Welcome and Participation Lead head on, I’ve been working on access. Organising the first meeting of the Access Panel – booking rooms; booking BSL interpreters and audio describers; reading, watching and listening to expressions of interest; meeting with the consultant. I’ve never been so interested in toilet door fittings and it’s now perfectly normal behaviour to ask friends to take photos of these if they go anywhere new. Sorry Amanda….you need to know it’s not just me though…
I’m thinking about tech and furniture for the learning spaces, about interactivity for the site as a whole, about outside furniture and play and illustration opportunities, about how people are welcomed, about creative programmes for when we open, about how we make links with teachers and other cultural organisations along the New River to support CPD for our key boroughs when we open, about how I can embed illustration in learning throughout the school system, about how we market our schools offer more locally, about how we how and when we bring on our volunteers, about how we diversify our front of house, who the young people will be for our final project in the autumn term. My head can’t contain all the things so despite my highly organised to-do list I feel like I am juggling five oranges and then someone throws me a chainsaw.
Also in my head I know this is a pinch point and things will even out again….but I’M A BIT STRESSED RIGHT NOW. I’m not very good at admitting when I’m at my wits end when I’m at work as I try to be quite positive – all the while knowing that toxic positivity is a bad thing, but also knowing that the experiences in my last job where any negativity got you burned have left me somewhat scarred. It’s a conundrum indeed.
A ramble through new footpaths on Sunday last week, via the fields to Epping Upland and back round to Epping – saw my first hares for a while which made me happy.
An early morning Tuesday ramble where I shared a field with a huge herd of deer
A chaotic afternoon for GT2’s 2nd birthday last Sunday.
Two thirds of the sea creatures done: still to go are three crabs, three turtles, one starfish and one jellyfish. These are going to live at the British Library which I am pretty flipping excited about, I can tell you. I feel more neon colours coming on, especially for the jellyfish.
Visiting the site for the first time in a couple of months – it’s all coming together!
Last week’s paean to four-day weeks (or three, at least) has been overtaken by the experience of this week’s four-day week which didn’t go nearly as well. Not for any specific reason, but…
…on Tuesday I took Lulu to the vets for her annual inspection – this minimises the actual experience of my Beloved and I acting in a pincer movement to wrestle her into the cat carrier, me forcibly lifting her out again as she clings to the sides like the facehugging xenomorph from Alien so she can be weighed and checked over, and watching her slinking back in in an attempt to make herself invisible afterwards. I popped to the library to pick up my holds (another recommendation from a colleague and a couple of Ann Cleeves), came home, set up my table, logged in…..and realised I was supposed to be in the office as we were interviewing in the afternoon. Cue throwing tidy clothes and my face on, racing for the bus and heading for the office. The Central Line was misbehaving with delays on both journeys. On the way home I had to get rescued from South Woodford by my Beloved as there were no trains and luckily he wasn’t far away.
The rest of the week continued to fluster me: never quite working out what day it was, not being able to finish one thing before starting the next. Part of it is the continued joy of menopausal brain fog, part of it is just trying to do too much at once on too many different things (but they all need doing!). Whatever it is, this week wasn’t working for me. I did get to meet some interesting interview candidates – I like interviewing – and had coffee with Amanda on Thursday.
Friday was great, on the other hand. As my communities colleague was off on her holidays I got to sit in on the first session of our new co-creation project. This is the third project of four before we open the Centre next year, and this one is in partnership with Islington Centre for Refugees and Migrants and the artist MURUGIAH. These are a series of projects exploring heritage and what it means to people. MURUGIAH grew up in South Wales (like me!) with Sri Lankan parents (not like me!), and our participants yesterday came from the Ukraine, Cameroon, the Democratic Republic of Congo, Morocco and Turkey. Their co-ordinator is Polish/British so we had a broad set of heritages to draw on. MURUGIAH’s work builds worlds of colour and shape, and always reminds me of the Beatles’ Yellow Submarine.
We thought about the things that make us ‘us’ – memories, language, family, food, music, the journeys we have made, the things that have happened to us. One of the things that I love about these projects is sitting with the group, working alongside them as they’re drawing their stories. Done, from Turkey, drew her childhood garden and told me about climbing the mulberry tree to pick the fruits from the top as she sat in the branches. She drew baskets of cherries, birds coming the eat the mulberries – she liked the sour ones rather than the sweet – and the bees who’d come to the flowers. There was a green house with a red roof, and she missed the garden when they moved to the city. The Ukrainian pair drew big blowsy poppies and sunflowers, flower headdresses framing blue sky and golden wheatfields, rivers – there are always rivers, they said – and a soldier standing to attention. Herve, from Cameroon, drew flags and a monument; our Congolese participant shared her memories of beach parties where they’d dance and catch tilapia to eat cooked in banana leaf parcels, and the colourful clothes they wear. Our Moroccan lady drew things from her country and their London equivalents – taxis, trains and buses, food, flags and more. It started quietly and as they started to draw the stories came out, and our two hours flew by – I’m not usually in on Fridays but I’d quite like to drop in on these sessions. Regular readers will remember previous experiences working with refugees and asylum seekers have made a massive impact on me (and also that this is why I am doing the Cardiff Half Marathon in October for the Choose Love charity, and any pennies you can spare towards my target are much appreciated! I have ÂŁ170 to go….).
I also got to catch up briefly with Jhinuk Sarkar, another of our community illustrators who is delivering a co-creation project at Bethany House – this is a supported housing project for women from Islington experiencing homelessness/houselessness for a wide variety of reasons. They’re making bunting and flags and I can’t wait to see them – enough to stretch from Bethany House to the Centre is the ambition!
An Easter Monday swim with Jill and Rachel followed by simnel cake and hot chocolate
More Northern Exposure – we’re up to Season 3 now and I can’t find my Season 4 box set anywhere
Crocheted jellyfish. Curiously satisfying to make with their curly tentacles! I like the neon green one – the photo doesn’t do it justice!
Running into TT2 with GT2 at the station on Wednesday – how is he two already? It’s his party today and Thing 2 has created a gorgeous birthday cake.
Seeing the trampoline populated by bouncing kids – next door’s small people like to come and run round our garden and see what my Beloved is up to, as well as say hi to the cats
A ten mile ramble through fields on Saturday in a wide loop around Toot Hill, Stanford Rivers and Tawney Common. Not too warm, with a lot of geese around for some reason, a muntjac, a bouncy deer (without benefit of trampoline) and a lot of consulting of my OS map.
Being talked into signing up for another half marathon next month – it took Tan all of five minutes to convince me,
A three day week is an excellent thing, affording some solid naps and some good reading time – although my reading over the week has degenerated from some quite good crime novels to some absolutely rubbishy magical romances, which I have thoroughly enjoyed in a frothy sort of way. I use Kindle Unlimited and also subscribe to BookBub which sends me a daily email with lots of 99p offers, where many of these things pop up. Fairies, dragons, dashing heroes who start off extremely bad-tempered and then become reluctantly heroic. Feisty heroines. Bridgerton with mythical beasties. Jane Austen with jinxes. Alliterative titles. That sort of thing.
This is whole-box-of-Ferrero-Rocher-to-yourself sort of reading, if you know what I mean. Indulgent. Nothing that requires any brain power at all. On the other hand, I’ve also been reading a Japanese classic recommended by a colleague, set in Osaka just before the Second World War which focuses on manners, Japanese societal expectations of women, and doesn’t have cats or books in. It’s not frothy at all, and probably bears more resemblance to Austen in the way characters and society are drawn than any of the Regency-set froth I’ve been reading. One of my VI form teachers, Mr Bradley, introduced us to Austen by declaring that he’d have married her.
One of my cousins asked a few weeks ago whether he was the only person in the family who read more than one book at once, and the answer was a fairly unanimous no, we’re all at it. I always have an upstairs book, a portable book and a downstairs book on the go and quite often one I’m dipping in and out of – short stories or poetry, for example. Sometimes I’ll put a book down and circle back to it, especially if its one that takes thinking about. But one book at a time is never enough.
A family outing to Audley End. Pretty spring flowers, a walled garden, a large screw embedded in the tyre – the car jinx strikes again. Last time the suspension went.
Making my annual Simnel cake. I could make them more often, but I don’t.
Finishing the first five of the sea creature commission. I like this turtle best so far.
Being kidnapped by Miriam and Jill on Saturday afternoon – they were a bottle of prosecco down, I stuck to tea.
An excellent walk to Ongar this morning. I saw a large stag, a sparrowhawk and some baby bunnies – went to Sainsburys and got the bus home with tomorrow’s roast!
Binging a series called North of North which we laughed like drains at – and which led to Northern Exposure nostalgia so now I’m watching that and remembering how excellent it was (especially Chris in the Morning). I’d really like to go to Alaska. I may have to reread all the Kate Shugak novels (which all seem to have arrived on Kindle Unlimited if you haven’t read them).
This week I was going to write about the V&A floral embroidery course with Lora Avedian that Heather and I signed up for on Tuesday, where we’d learn all about couching with ribbon and things. Due to technical issues at their end they ended up turning off the live session and sending out the recording instead which I haven’t watched yet.
Then I was going to write about the quilted overcoat I started making – the Ara jacket by Daisy Chain Patterns. I taped the pattern together and cut out the fabric but then encountered some technical issues at my end* so didn’t finish that either. It’s being made from a duvet cover (of course) and I can’t decide which side I like best for the outside. It’s also got four – FOUR! – pockets.
Other things I haven’t finished this include a brilliant plan for getting illustration into schools; most of the coffees I’ve made in the office; the cucumber I definitely meant to add to my sandwiches so as not to waste it. There were excellent – though not technical – reasons for not finishing all these things, mostly to do with the community programme and a lot of meetings, but it means my to-do list has not shrunk in any way.
Things I did finish: several books, a lot of Thing 2’s excellent hot cross buns, and this Bananasaurus which is definitely better viewed side on. Fortunately its for a soon-to-be-two-year-old….
A team outing to Wilton’s Music Hall for a tour by our architects, who did the restoration there and also at Hackney Empire.
An early morning swim with Jill and a lot of coots, talking about Tove Jansson with people who love my Moomin tattoo.
Finding the latest Vera Stanhope novel right next to the return bin at the library, just as I needed a new book to read (no, really, I did)
Feeling like a celebrity on a visit to Young V&A
Getting started on a whole rockpool’s worth of sea creatures for the British Library
Meeting an adorable corgi puppy called Leon at the lake. No idea what his owner was called.
This week we’re having a family day out on Monday, because apparently weekends are too peopley (Easter holidays are going to come as a shock to my Beloved, I can see) and I will be attempting to finish things. Possibly.
Have a good week!
Kirsty x
What I’ve been reading:
Cold Earth/Wild Fire/The Long Call/Silent Voices/The Dark Wives – Ann Cleeves
Moving Pictures/Sourcery – Terry Pratchett (Audible)
What Kirsty did next 