What do Just Like Heaven, Last Christmas, The Sixth Sense and Donnie Darko have in common? Only one of them has a giant bunny. All of them have hot male protagonists (yes, Bruce Willis counts. Don’t argue). One of them is set at Christmas. They don’t have actors in common or similar plot lines.
The answer is, of course, that they are all ‘dead guy movies’, which is a debate my bestie and I have been having for a large part of the past week. These are movies where a character has been dead all along, not just died in the early part of the movie (which means Truly Madly Deeply is but Ghost isn’t) or been part of the action despite being dead (Weekend at Bernie’s is not). Muppets’ Christmas Carol is, since it clearly states that ‘the Marleys were dead to begin with’. There are lots of horror genre examples too, I expect, but I’m less likely to watch those.
Dead guy movieNot a dead guy movie
Where it gets sticky is when the undead (or mostly dead) get brought into the equation. There was a lively debate about Dracula, for example: he’s dead but undead so is still walking around the place, thus very much a grey area. Her family say it counts, mine disagree. Frankenstein is another grey area, as all the various bits of the Monster were dead to begin with but then get reanimated. Zombie movies are mostly not, as often they’re wandering about the place having been brought back to life. It’s more complicated than you’d think….
The difference 34 years makes
That same bestie was also my companion for a Christmas afternoon out on Tuesday, when we went to see Othello at the Theatre Royal Haymarket, starring David Harewood as Othello, Caitlin Fitzgerald as Desdemona and Toby Jones as Iago.
Toby Jones, after his performance in Mr Bates vs The Post Office, his gentle nerdiness in Detectorists and understated excellence in Mr Burton is in grave danger of becoming a national treasure. He was positively malevolent as Iago, manipulating everyone around him and driving Othello to jealous madness, culminating in a great pile of dead bodies at the end. David Harewood made a very angsty Othello, and Caitlin Fitzgerald was sparky and joyful as Desdemona. It’s easy to forget how much humour there is even in the tragedies, and Toby Jones broke the fourth wall quite frequently while confiding his plans to the audience, with his usual comic timing. Costumes were modernish, the set was minimal and elegant, and PJ Harvey’s score was understated. Highly recommended if you get the chance.
Both of us had ‘done’ Othello at A-level and had written essays on the ‘noble savage’ tropes. 34 years later we both felt Mr O needed to do a bit less listening to Iago and a bit more thinking for himself.
We went to the matinee performance after lunch at Rudy’s in Wardour Street. We shared a pizza and a salad – the pizzas are huge and if we’d had a whole one each we’d have slept through the performance. After the show we walked back through a Christmassy London (well, fought our way past the tourists) to Kings Cross St Pancras to catch our trains – we saw the latest probably Banksy, a lot of festive lights and a complete set of Mario Bros in the station for some reason. An excellent day out altogether, and home in time for bed!
A session at the new David Lloyd in Harlow with Miriam – a mix of yoga, pilates and meditation. Just what I needed but bits of me were most unhappy the following day.
Coffee and stollen with Sue, Jill and Heather on Monday
Finally making the Lego bouquet that my Beloved gave me for our anniversary last February. Just under 1000 very small pieces, but a permanent vase (or coffee jar) of flowers in my lair
Finishing these little ‘reel mice’ that I’ve had in my mind for ages. I think they need scarves though.
Saturday at TT1s with many cuddles from the twins, and Christmas Day with TT2 and the mad two year old
This week started with the terrible news that actor, director and all-round good egg Rob Reiner and his wife, the filmmaker, photographer and also all-round good egg Michele Singer Reiner had been found dead in their home in LA. Their son Nick was later charged with their murder. He has struggled with addiction, and there are reports that he’s been diagnosed with schizophrenia.
You might be wondering why the deaths of a couple I’ve never met are the subject of this week’s blog instead of whatever I’ve been up to this week. Well, Reiner – among his many other achievements – was the man who took a chance on William Goldman’s The Princess Bride and in so doing created the greatest film ever made. He was also the man who introduced me to Stephen King with his adaptation of King’s novella The Body, in the form of Stand By Me. He was also responsible for When Harry Met Sally (“I’ll have what she’s having”), This is Spinal Tap (“These go to eleven”) and The Sure Thing (which triggered my long-standing love for John Cusack). He and Michele also ran Castle Rock Entertainment, responsible for more Stephen King adaptations – The Shawshank Redemption, The Green Mile. Misery was a Reiner film too but despite James Caan and Kathy Bates I can’t love that one. Stephen King will probably be the subject of another blog, another day (but not for many years, please). A Few Good Men is another, but as it’s got the loathsome Cruise in it I can’t watch it.
The Princess Bride will always, always be my favourite. It didn’t do well at the box office but became a cult success, and people who recognise a quote when it’s dropped into conversation are kindred spirits. I remember the first time we watched it – it was Bonfire Night in 1988, and we’d rented the video from Apollo in Monmouth and watched it as a family. We all still have copies of the film on DVD and watch it whenever it’s on TV. Reiner’s films changed the way we talk, inspired endless memes and even a socially-distanced version of the movie in lockdown where Reiner appeared as The Grandson, with his father Carl as The Grandfather. The words may have been written by Goldman, Nora Ephron, Stephen King and others but Reiner brought them to life with love and humour. I have loved listening to his reading of The Princess Bride on Audible this week.
Prince Humperdinck’s To-do listI designed and made this in 2020, inspired by TPB
The Reiners were also activists, campaigning for gay marriage, for tobacco taxes to be used to pay for early childhood causes, for child development, and he was outspoken against Trump whose tasteless, egotistical, offensive response to the news of their deaths may become a nail in his coffin. I can say this as I have no intention of going to the US in the near future. The outpouring of respect and grief across social media and the news, from people who knew them and people who didn’t but whose lives have been touched by their words and actions, has been enormous.
Rest in peace, Rob and Michele Reiner. “Death cannot stop true love. It can only delay it for a while.”
Today I’ll be making stollen, marzipanning the cake and pottering about in my lair. It’s Christmas this week, and we have TT2, her partner and GT2 coming for lunch.
As you wish, faithful readers.
Kirsty x
What I’ve been reading:
The Wolves of Willoughby Chase/Black Hearts in Battersea/Night Birds on Nantucket – Joan Aiken
The Madness of Crowds/A World of Curiosities – Louise Penny
The Princess Bride – William Goldman (Audible, read by Rob Reiner)
The Secrets of Pain/The Magus of Hay – Phil Rickman (Audible)
This week has been all about the crochet, bookended by two different markets. Last Sunday was Copped Hall’s Family Apple Day and yesterday was the London Welsh Centre’s Autumn Market.
Copped Hall events happen outside in a tree-lined avenue leading down towards the walled garden. Luckily we had sides for the gazebo this year and the weather was sunny if a bit chilly at times. It’s so lovely to see regular faces, though I need more Doctor Who things according to one customer!
They were two very different events – Copped Hall doesn’t charge a fee but asks for a suggested donation of 10% of your takings, whereas I felt a bit of impostor at the Welsh market surrounded by potters, award winning food producers and so on. Driftwood Designs had the stall on one side of me, and they have actual shops in Aberystwyth and Aberaeron (and a strong presence on my family’s Christmas trees).
On our other side was Badcubed, who makes the most amazing stained glass-style art using aluminium drinks cans (including commissions) and who was not above accosting passing people carrying interesting cans and asking them to bring them back when they’d finished. Thing 2 spotted someone with a beautiful cider can which turned out to be Hansh Cider from Llaethlliw near Aberaeron. The can is redesigned every time there’s a new addition to the family, adding dogs, small children and so on as the family grows.
Ben, Badcubed himself, is an ADHD-fuelled creative (his words), and never makes the same thing twice – all his pieces have names and stories. He gave Thing 2 a wave piece at the end of the day, a gorgeous heart shape created from Monster cans. She hugged it to her all the way home, and wouldn’t put it down until it had a safe place in the living room. Despite leaving Brecon at 4.30am to drive up to London in time for the event he was on full energy all day, chatting to all the people who were drawn to his stall – and there were a LOT.
My stall is more of a stealth attractor – people glance at it and then do a double take. Yesterday it was split into two sections: autumn and Christmas. I love watching people walk by as you can almost see the moment their brain tells them what they’ve seen …’huh, crochet…hang on, did I just see a crocheted jammy dodger/pea pod/sprout/chilli pepper??’ Yes, yes you did.
And now you’re coming back to have another look…and you’re going to need a bigger Christmas tree.
The nine pigs in blankets sold quite quickly, as did the little harvest mice and pickled pumpkins/ghosts and as fast as I could make a Chris Mouse it sold. I tested a mouse in a Christmas blanket too, and may make a few more of them as they’re very cute. Some people take ages to decide which pig or mouse they want to adopt as the faces are never quite the same! I wonder if I can do pickled sprouts for Christmas?
When I finally got a wander round later in the day I bought some Welsh Rum & Black Jam from Black Mountains Preserves, and some hot sauces from Chilli of the Valley as Thing 2 (my helper at both events) kept nagging me. This included Merthyrstershire Sauce as my Beloved is a big fan of Worcestershire Sauce, and making something Welsh can only improve it…
Mental notes from the event – more red Christmas jumpers, more pigs, more Chris Mouses, more peapods, more mini puddings, stop being lazy and embroider the house details on your toadstools, more barrel cacti….so much! And next year, go for the bigger table…
Another thing I really enjoy about these events is the conversations – I’m always crocheting behind the stall as I’m not very good at sitting still, and this opens up chats with other crafters, or people who want to learn, and people who whip their WIP (work in progress) out of their bag to show me. As with live interpretation, you become approachable when you’re doing something seen as ‘domestic’. Even if they don’t buy anything you’ve had a good natter about things you like.
The next stalls are December, but please do contact me if you want to order. Always happy to crochet.
Not the Central Line, which caused me no end of problems on Wednesday
A wander back to the new office from Exmouth Market – Clerkenwell is full of funny little streets and quirks. There are a lot of clocks about too, as the area used to have a lot of clock and watchmakers.
Crispy autumn things
Coffee with TT2 and GT2 after the Welsh market
Booking tickets for a night at Sadlers Wells East to see Ebony Scrooge with Things 1 and 2 in December – something to look forward to
Well, that’s it from me – I’m going to do NOTHING today*
Same time next week,
Kirsty x
*well, maybe some crochet….
What I’ve been reading
A Trick of the Light/Still Life/A Fatal Grace/The Cruellest Month – Louise Penny
MIdwinter of the Spirit/A Crown of Lights/The Cure of Souls – Phil Rickman (Audible)
I was going to write about protest songs this week but I haven’t had time to do the research into it that I wanted to. So I’ve saved it as a draft somewhere else instead and you’ll just have to wait.
Do you know, I’m not sure I managed to get the hang of last week and now here we are on Sunday again. A couple of four day weeks are all very well but at the moment there’s way too much work for those four days. My email inbox is in triple figures when my ideal number is ‘less than 20’. Double figures are but a pipe dream right now, and there have been days when I haven’t even managed to read them all and delete those which don’t require any action.
It’ll all be worth it though, when we welcome all the new team members we’re interviewing (22 interviews down, three to go), when we throw open the gates to a new venue fully committed to accessibility and inclusion, with new programmes for people of all ages and a fantastic set of exhibitions. Until then, I suspect there will be a lot of 4am wake ups. It’s dark at 4am, you know, and even the stupid birds aren’t awake at this time of year – which is an improvement on the peacocks all summer or the angry chickens in France. I think. At least earplugs muffle the birds. Is there a brainplug available? I couldn’t even go downstairs as my living room was full of people asleep on sofas and airbeds.
In a coaching session in July I had a great conversation with someone who helped me work out a plan for just these moments but it involves having five minutes to yourself to do the thing.
It helps (a bit) when you talk to people about what you’re doing and they’re excited, or you talk about access to an expert and you’re doing all the right things, or when people contact you because they want to work with you – or they say yes to your ideas. That was Friday’s meeting with a local SEND school which turns out to be about ten minutes from our site.
What doesn’t help is when public transport conspires against you to ensure that you can’t get anywhere on time: on Wednesday I planned my journey to arrive in Stratford with an hour in hand to get some quiet work done in a coffee shop somewhere. I arrived at Discover with a minute to spare: the bus to Epping was late and then got stuck in traffic, the train took well over an hour to do a journey of 22 minutes, and then they took the train out of service. The rest of the week was not an improvement. There seem to be speed restrictions in place between Epping and Woodford so everything is slow – but not slow enough to be able to claim the journeys back from TfL as that needs to be a delay of 15 minutes or more. Grr. Still, interminable train journeys at least meant I got to start (and finish) this little Autumn Fairy. She fits perfectly in this Bonne Maman jar which I’ve been saving for a moment just like this.
The very beautiful Wye Valley, which I walked 15 miles around last Sunday over two walks. The first one was solo and the second was with my sisters and cousins. There’s a lot of uphill, you know. We walked across the Biblins Bridge, had an ice cream in the cafe, an excellent Sunday lunch at the Saracen’s Head and enjoyed the autumn.
By Tuesday I ached all over but I feel in good shape for the Cardiff Half Marathon next Sunday – there is still time to sponsor me as it’s an excellent cause which really annoys the local racists. It would be amazing to make it to £500.
Actually, it would be more accurate to say the little piggy will be going to market in a few weeks – I have two stalls lined up in October so I am getting myself organised with tiny things for my stall. These pumpkins and Christmas cactuses – both designed by me – will be there. The cacti are in vintage espresso mugs I found in a charity shop – they’re Whittard Christmas ones.
You have no idea how disturbing it is that espresso mugs from 2004 are considered vintage, by the way. I am also vintage, it turns out, being more than 20 but less than 100. (I checked to see if I was mid-century modern but it turns out I am too young for that.)
On 12 October I’ll be at the Copped Hall Family Apple Day, and on 18 October at the London Welsh Centre for their Welsh Autumn Market which is part of the Bloomsbury Festival. This is an excellent place if you haven’t been, and if you have a well-behaved dog (or family) you can bring them too. It doesn’t say whether the family needs to be well-behaved. The free tickets can be booked through the link above. Come along and say hello!
In the spirit of spookiness I have also been capturing ghosts ready for Halloween. My learning from this has been not to use white yarn on the tube as it just goes grey. This pickled ghost is called Clarence, after the would-be angel in It’s a Wonderful Life. I love the way they look as if they’re floating.
At least until Friday when the Tube strike was over, when I finally got to visit our new office. Big windows! Natural light! Level access! In the last few months our amazing office manager has co-ordinated approximately a million job interviews, found a new office nearer our site, packed up and moved our old office (we did help!), overhauled our IT systems and has done all of it with her usual calm and aplomb – and without us ever running out of milk and coffee. I don’t know how she does it. I also don’t know what we’d do without her.
I got a lift in with Jill as far as Walthamstow and bumped into an ex-colleague on Wood St station so had a lovely catch-up on the train followed by some crochet and audio book on the 38 bus from Hackney.
Strikes don’t seem to have as much impact* since we all learned to work at home and since the rise (or curse) of the Lime bikes and so on. I almost got run over by a teenager on a Lime bike yesterday – he was on the pavement and hadn’t paid for it so it was making the loud clicky noise that’s a dead giveaway. A colleague has ranked all rentable e-bike riders from worst to best by brand, and while Lime aren’t the worst they’re certainly the ones you see bearing down on you more often. They’re incredibly heavy so are dangerous to fall off, and they also charge by the minute so riders often run red lights or ignore crossings to avoid paying extra. I’d be willing to bet most of them couldn’t produce their Cycling Proficiency badge, too.
Anyway, the RMT were responsible for this week’s four day strike and it’s not about pay but about working hours and wellbeing. I approve, I think, especially as I’d already decided to hold my first round of interviews on Teams rather than in person which worked out nicely.
*At least once you get into Central London.
Things making me happy this week (not roast beef)
I am very relieved to see our local Co-op’s glow-up has been completed and we have the village shop back, albeit without the fresh bakery section which is disappointing. It does have a self-service till now which is a plus as it should reduce the queues which tend to build up in there.
Popping out for a drink with Miriam and Jill on Thursday evening to put the world to rights.
Being taken out for lunch by Thing 1 – also to the pub, but it was a very nice pizza.
Catching up with this year’s Sewing Bee and finding two new series of Brassic on Netflix. It’s sweary but it’s one of those wonderfully gentle British comedies. Joseph Gilgun is great in it.
The new Slough House thriller appearing on my Kindle – Clown Town, by Mick Herron. Such a good series.
Today I am off for a long walk – only three weeks to go till Cardiff Half. Next week I’ll be back adjacent to the Shire, in the Forest of Dean, with the horde of cousins celebrating another big birthday.
Kirsty x
What I’ve been reading:
False Value/Amongst Our Weapons – Ben Aaronovitch (Audible)
There are many things I like about summer but mosquitoes are not one of them. No matter how much go-away spray you use before you go out for a walk the little beasts always manage to find the single square centimetre you missed – the bit where your bra strap moved, or (as has happened to me a lot recently) they fly up your trouser legs and savage the backs of your knees. I’m sporting five on my arms and one on my neck at the moment. I’m sure they play a vital role in the ecosystem or something but if they could do it without nibbling me I’d appreciate it.
They are the price you pay when you’re staying by a river and want to go out bat hunting at dusk, however. After London sister Tan spotted a Daubenton’s Bat on a walk along the Blavet earlier this year we were quite keen to find some more. Although the weather has changed from summer heat to muggy drizzle, we’ve made it out a couple of evenings this week for a wander along the tow path.
It’s been magical – there will be a glimpse of one bat skimming along the river near the bank or zooming over your head, and then suddenly they’ll be everywhere – chasing each other in circles, divebombing the river or flitting in and out of the trees. We’ve found that the bridges are popular bat haunts, and we’ve stood for ages on the towpath by the road bridge watching them zip around on eye level with us catching insects. They’re so batty they look like toy bats – the sort of bat shapes that Laszlo turns into in What We Do In The Shadows or Count Dracula in Hotel Transylvania. The battiest bats, in fact.
Bonus points have been scored for the kingfishers catching a last few snacks before heading off into their holes for the night, an indignant heron who took off from the path in front of us, a muntjac deer watching us from the other side of the river before disappearing into the crop growing behind it. There’s a coypu couple who swim among the waterlilies near the bridge, chuntering away to themselves as they potter around doing whatever it is coypu do. The owls start muttering to each other shortly after the bats come out.
No sign of the hen harrier or the short-toed snake eagle so far, but there’s a week to go. The two cockerels who live on the same lane have been much in evidence, shouting at random times throughout the day, and the cherry tree outside Dad’s office window has been alive with long-tailed tits while I’ve been shortlisting job applications over three days this week. It’s great that so many people want to work with us but by Thursday afternoon my eyes were crossed and I was thoroughly fed up with AI generated introductory paragraphs. Still, I’m looking forward to meeting the interviewees.
Not having to think about what to feed people for dinner
French bread and patisserie, especially my favourite religieuses
Time to do some fiddly crochet in the sunshine – these peas in pods are crocheted with perle thread and a 1mm hook. I’ve made some bigger ones as well, with friendly looking peas that pop out of their pods.
French supermarkets and their fruit and veg sections
Various family members are arriving today and it’ll be lovely to see them, and hopefully over the next week we’ll see more exciting wildlife (that we aren’t related to). I’m assuming my Things and my Beloved a) have noticed I’ve gone and b) are missing me at least a bit. Two of them have texted me with demands for money, so business as usual there.
Kirsty x
What I’ve been reading
The Book of Doors/The Society of Unknowable Objects – Gareth Brown
Lies Sleeping/The Hanging Tree – Ben Aaronovitch (Audible)
Miss Percy’s Definitive Guide to the Restoration of Dragons – Quenby Olson
Press your back button now if part of your summer holiday planning still involves the annual childcare juggle. I’m about to be unbearably smug.
My Horde are now 14, 16 and 19 and while the teenage years come with their own set of challenges (their hormones coming in while mine are going out, romance dramas, friend group angst, the constant growing out of shoes and trousers, to name but a few) those challenges no longer include having to trade off annual leave, swapping childcare with friends or considering packing them off to boarding school and leaving the country till they’re 18. I read all the Chalet School books, I know it’s all kaffe und kuchen every day and midnight feasts and adventures up mountains. They’d have been FINE. Probably.
While we’ve always been amazingly lucky with the various childminders and big sisters who have looked after them over the years, it’s still flipping excellent not to have to worry about it every year.
The flipside is never knowing quite how many teens will be scattered about the house and garden when I get in or who will be around for dinner. If they’re here they get fed and I assume that works when they’re at other people’s houses too. We’ve always operated open door parenting, on the principle that if we’re there for the fun stuff they’ll know the door will still be open for the harder stuff too.
Several nights a week there’s at least two teenagers asleep in the living room, one in the cabin and right now there’s nine people ranging from the ages of two to 27 racing around the garden with water pistols. I’m sitting surrounded by chaos and the remains of an impromptu barbecue and – honestly – I love it. Especially the bit where they just get on with it with no input from me.
It also means I can go and work in France for a week and then have a week of peace before school chaos starts again; go for a drink with colleagues or friends after work; or be at my desk by 8am.
This is not to say parenting teens is a breeze: emotional crises arise, there are still dramas and we’ve got T-level results this week and GCSE results next week but, on balance, I think we’re doing OK.
I expect one day they’ll all leave home and I won’t know what to do with myself but till then I’ll keep embracing the chaos.
A lovely day off on Friday with Miriam, with breakfast at the Mayfield Bakery and a very relaxing massage.
Finding Breton cidre at St John after work on Thursday, and remembering how nice it is to do these things.
A peaceful day at Shelley Church fête crocheting toadstools and chatting to nice people. The meerkat went home as a raffle prize with a very excited teenager.
Painting wooden toadstools with Things 1 & 2 in the garden
Epping continues to be overrun by racists twice a week and this is not making me happy. I have an evening out planned with a like-minded buddy in two weeks and we are going to allow ourselves a 10 minute rage before we have, as she put it, a delightful time. I am all for this. In the meantime, I am trying extremely hard to think about all the positive things that happen to me rather than the idiots who seem to be happening around me. So that’s what this week’s post is all about: do add the good things happening to you in the comments.
There are some people who you don’t see for several years – Covid, moving house, changing jobs, life getting in the way, those old chestnuts – but when you finally catch up with them it’s as if you’re picking up a conversation that you were having about five minutes ago. Yes, that’s a cliche but – like most of these things – it’s a cliche because it’s true. That was Thursday evening with my fierce Italian friend Sabrina. Dinner out and the world was put to rights (ah, if only – but I felt better for it!). Even better, it was back on my old West India Quay stomping ground which still looks wonderful in the sunshine.
Giving the rainbow hare/bunny to one of my colleagues – he loved it which made me very happy! Now his partner wants one too. I have let it be known that I am bribable with cake as he is an excellent baker.
Starting my Christmas (sorry) crochet in good time – with a new version of a pig in a blanket. There will be mice, pigs, robins, pingwings and more.
Signing up for the Autumn Welsh Market at the London Welsh Society
A long walk (nine miles) on Saturday, trying a new route out to Shelley Church where I have a stall next weekend. I won’t be walking there then though. I wandered through woods, farmyards and fields and met some excellent dogs.
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 £20 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)
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!
What Kirsty did next 