197: a child’s Christmas in Wales

The build up to Christmas this year has been thoroughly miserable, weatherwise, and lemon juice is being rubbed into the papercut by my Facebook memories showing me snow photos from recent years. The torrential rain is bringing back memories of childhood Christmasses in Wales when the festive season was marked by the man from the council turning up with the gift of sandbags in case of flooding from the brooks that bounded our road. There were a few pub evenings when someone would come in and tell us we’d better get home before the road went under!

We’ve recently moved offices in our building from a ground floor that felt like a basement, tucked away at the back of the building, to the attic space with skylights. The rain, thunder and howling gales we’ve experienced this week have been hammering on these little windows and reminding me once more of my Welsh childhood…this time, though, summer holidays in caravans when you’re only separated from the weather (or tapdancing gulls) by a thin metal skin. Those days meant a trip to a town rather than the beach, and I was 40 by the time I discovered Fishguard didn’t exist in a permanent monsoon microclimate. Other rainy day destinations included Devil’s Bridge, Aberystwyth, or the Centre for Alternative Technology in Machynlleth where the coffee was made of dandelions or something – my dad was horrified.

Rain = learning, by this logic, so the new office makes me quite happy even though it’s a very long way up. The stairs are quite open, too (all 73 of them) and it took me a week to get past the cognitive dissonance caused by the very steep drop to the left of the door which told my mind was going to fall. It’s perfectly safe, but my heart skipped a beat every time I opened the door as I’m not very good with heights. The new office is cosier, and we share it with a small theatre company who have their own Welsh person.

I am now off until the New Year and have plans – such plans! – involving various craft kits, some fabulous fabric and a whole lot of naps.

Things making me happy this week

  • A good wander through the fields with Sue and the Bella-dog
  • Coffees with Heather and Miriam
  • A girly night in with Amanda, watching a Doctor Who Christmas special and then Weekend at Bernie’s
  • Finishing the crochet blanket I started two years ago (at least!) – see above!
  • Making more toadstools (all of which have gone to new homes) and giving in to the urge to add a door and window to one

The thing making me sad this week

Thirty-something years ago, in a pub called the Nag’s Head in Monmouth, an ex-boyfriend of mine introduced me to a bloke called Nigel. A few years older than me, he’d been in sixth form when I started at the local comp, so I’d seen him around but never spoken to him. We bonded over music (especially Mr Springsteen and a range of classic rock), books (shout out to Terry Pratchett) and shared a dry (at times I’d go so far as to say arid… desiccated, even) sense of humour alongside a horror of misplaced apostrophes. If I’d had a big brother, I would have liked him to be like Nigel, up to and including the ability to take me down several pegs when I’m taking myself too seriously. I know not everyone appreciated that about him, particularly his habit of saying the things that needed to be said on Monmouth’s local Facebook pages and his total inability to suffer fools gladly. He loved diving, and was delighted with the crocheted nudibranches I sent him instead of a Christmas card. He appreciated good cheese, good rum and bad puns.

Last year he did a round with cancer and we thought he’d kicked its arse. We’d planned an evening out in ‘that there London’ in October for his birthday this year but he’d been in hospital and was on antibiotics for an infection. It turned out that the bastard cancer had made an aggressive comeback. Two weeks ago he told me his prognosis wasn’t great, and – typically – that he wasn’t going to be starting any long box sets on TV. I offered any assistance that he and Caroline needed, although I drew the line at crocheting a giant life-sized Nigel as that was just weird. He laughed.

Caroline phoned me this week to say he was receiving end of life care, as he’d gone downhill very quickly. I woke up to a message from her on Saturday morning to say he had gone. It hit me in the evening when I saw a cartoon about fancy Christmas cheese that on any other day I would have sent straight to him. I will miss him terribly. 

All I can say is that wherever he’s ended up, they’d better make damn sure the apostrophes are in the right place and to put him in charge of the music, otherwise they’ll never hear the end of it.

Kirsty x

What I’ve been reading:

The Drowning Pool – Syd Moore

Hogfather – Terry Pratchett (Audible)

Lost Christmas – David Logan (Audible)

Sharon, Tracy and the Rest – Keith Waterhouse

The Dark is Rising – Susan Cooper (BBC World Service adaptation)

Past Lying – Val McDermid

71: rain did not stop play

This week has felt almost normal: two days of delivery and a day in the office, drinks with colleagues on Wednesday and a noisy evening in a pub on Friday night. Never mind that one of those days of delivery was outdoors, with sessions bracketed (but not cancelled) by torrential downpours – we were doing our job, the reason we went into learning in the first place. I did have to wring out the bottom half of my dress while I was wearing it, as we cleaned 100 or so pieces of play equipment under a shelter made pointless by the rising waters and the horizontal rain, but there we are. We had a great day! It was noisy, joyful and inspiring.

British summertime…

I have mentioned the Imagination Playground Big Blue Blocks we are using before: it’s quite well-known and is used all over the world. We also have a kit designed by CO-DB which can be used to create pop-up spaces for craft workshops and more, and we had some of those pieces with us as well. As soon as we started to put out wooden structures we were surrounded by children who had some very firm ideas about how they thought it should be set out: they wanted to build a house, and when there weren’t enough pieces they collected other objects from around the playground to make their creation. They carried across tables and chairs, a giant Connect-4 game, and PE equipment. The house was initiated by a couple of small boys and others soon joined in, bringing their own ideas to the game.

My role that day was supporting our Informal Learning producer. Later in the day we were joined by an artist, Matt Shaw, who has been commissioned to create a ‘plus’ set to add to the Blue Blocks – he brought some rolls of corrugated card with him, some cut up plastic pipes and connectors and large pieces of fabric, to see how they added to the play. The Theory of Loose Parts is behind this. We introduced those about halfway through each session, when the children were evaluating their creations to see how they could add or improve them – something they did independently, rather than directed by us.

It was an interesting day: we had children ranging from Early Years to young teens, and we were presenting them all with exactly the same base equipment. We wondered whether the older ones would engage with the blue blocks or if they’d think they were too babyish for them, but we were surprised by how much they enjoyed it. All the sessions started with free play so they could see how the blocks worked together and could be connected, and then we threw in a challenge to finish off. Often this was to make the tallest structure they could, which they then enjoyed knocking down. Matt’s fabric was used to create dens and sails, and some ripstop fabric lengths became roofs for a shelter built by a team of girls called ‘the prime house’ because it was all primary colours. We asked one group to design and build a way to cross a river, so we saw some great bridges: we’d tested this with schools in early July.

The free play was interesting, as every age group made some kind of fitness equipment, often from a starting point of a dumbbell made from a noodle shape and two round pieces. The oldest group made theirs very elaborate, with a bench press and a leg machine, while the younger ones were more basic. Most groups made a marble run: if two sets of children started making one and discovered there weren’t enough pieces, we encouraged them to team up and create one large one. It was brilliant to watch them testing angles to make sure the ball would move smoothly, tweaking things to ensure it didn’t fly off, and solving problems together. The activity brought children together: this was a council play scheme which had only been open a couple of days, with children from all over the borough. Many had never met before that week, and the blue block activity got them talking to each other for the first time, according to the adults.

Of all the loose parts the children chose to add to their creations, the most popular were a set of marker cones which had been left in the playground – so much so that we will be adding them to our own kit for other events. They became decoration for houses, stoppers on the marble run, wheels, eyes and more. So simple that we wouldn’t have thought of them ourselves, but every group added them in to their creations. They also enlivened the Blue Blocks, which are otherwise just – well – blue.

The idea behind our participation in this playscheme, the school sessions I have mentioned in previous episodes, play streets and festivals is to support creativity and the skills that creativity builds: confidence, communication, collaboration and more (yes, they all begin with C) and I think we saw that in spades this week.

My other delivery day was at Spotlight, an amazing youth space in Tower Hamlets where I was supporting our Creative Producer. This was part of a local transition Summer School for Year 6s going into Year 7, and were working with School of Noise who run workshops encouraging the exploration of music and the science of sound. I learned loads – about how sound travels, chladni plates, about making sound effects and more. The students were really engaged too, and were amazed at how the sounds they could make with their bodies could create music. We tried some Foley in the afternoon, making the sound of fire with bubble wrap, tin foil and a plastic shopping bag, and we saw this video which left us in awe of Foley artists. I have had some strange requests from my Foley artist neighbour over the years but this video really put them into context.

Just having these days with the team in real life, and Friday in the office at South Kensington, reminded me why I love my job and the people I work with. We went out on Friday night to the Zetland Arms in South Ken to say a goodbye to our wonderful director. I saw people I had previously only met on Teams calls, and others I hadn’t seen since before lockdown – it made the ludicrously expensive G&Ts worthwhile. (Lovely director has just messaged me to say thank you for the letter and crocheted angel I handed her on Friday night – when she arrived two years ago we had just been through a horrible restructure and we found guardian angels on our desks waiting for us, so it seemed right to send her off with one too!)

And now it’s August. How did that happen?

Biscuit, anyone?

All this travelling on tubes has meant that I could spend some serious time crocheting daft things – more jammy dodgers, in fact. Here’s eight I made on the tube – there would have been nine, except a small girl was entranced by what I was doing so I gave her a finished one. I think it made her day. These are very satisfying to make, as other than weaving in the ends there is no construction: you join as you go. They will either end up as brooches or tree decorations – these are made with the 2mm hook, rather than the larger one, so the stitches are tighter.

The background is, of course, the Hobbit Hole – I am now onto the bottom half and will be starting a new page this evening. And now I am off to do some other sewing. I should be constructing jeans but I have a PDF that needs sticking together for a dress, so let’s see how far I get!

Kirsty x

What I’ve been reading

The Shadow Wing (Crow Investigations) – Sarah Painter

Good Omens – Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman (Audible)

From the shelf of shame:

Bring me the head of Sergio Garcia – Tom Cox

Jigs and Reels – Joanne Harris