Keeping busy

When I don’t write a post for a few days, it’s generally because we are busy enjoying ourselves, as has been the case during the last week or so.  With a day at home, I’m ready to catch up with things generally, not only the washing

I don’t think I posted a picture of this cute entry in the “peg bag” class of a local show?  I thought it a great idea and rather topical too, don’t you agree?

It’s been an inspiring few days one way and another, with a gathering of my friends, the Artful Dodgers at the Festival of Quilts in Birmingham last week.  It’s always good to see what they are up to and to catch up with each other in real life, even if we do chat incessantly online!

There were some stunning examples of technical skill at the show.  This one caught our eye just as the steward was revealing the back to another visitor.

I am in awe of such precision!

I’m not sure the design is to my taste, however clever the sewing is (though this was just a small corner and possibly not representative of the overall effect, to be fair).

I couldn’t imagine working all those french knots, either, though on closer inspection, a few of them were actually small beads.  A real heirloom, wouldn’t you say?

For me, I’d rather have something like this – practical, soft, interesting design and beautifully made whilst not too precious to actually use and enjoy. 

None of which could be said about this little treasure, found in Avening church when we dropped in last weekend!  It’s a real blast from the past, created by a group of WI ladies for a competition years ago to depict a story of the church bells being stolen in the dead of night by a bunch of people from the next village.  Who’d have thought that all these years on, it would still be there, sitting on a windowsill in the church?

We were showing the beautiful Norman church to our sweet friends Bill and Wendy, from New Hampshire, explaining to them how it had been founded by William the Conqueror’s wife Matilda in 1079.  It’s so easy to overlook the treasures we pass by frequently but good to have reason to recognise our rich heritage, isn’t it?

Next stop was Fairford, where a rather larger, grander church offered yet more delights, some smaller than others.

We spotted an appropriate kneeler in amongst the collection, too; a reminder of the US Airforce community based in Fairford for many years.

We found a great spot for a picnic by the river, too.

Outside Cirencester Parish Church, there was a parking space just waiting for us to arrive – how could we not make use of it?

Though a sign in one of the side chapels confused me until I took a closer look.

The word “brasses” is hidden behind the frame!

It’s always good when visitors to our part of the world are able to see it at its best.  Standing on Crickley Hill overlooking the Severn Vale, we count our blessings and fill our lungs with clean, fresh air.  No matter what the season, on a clear day it’s beautiful.

Bill and Wendy’s short stay in the Cotswolds ended with a flourish!  We were delighted to be able to share one of our annual treats with them both and gladly followed the directions of the man in the tasselled hi-vis waistcoat.

We had the usual bovine company for our pre-show Pimms, too.

Gifford’s Circus never disappoints and this year’s American “Painted Wagon” show was super.

All our favourites were on the programme: Tweedy the clown, Bibi and Bichu the wonderful jugglers, my Hero’s favourite Nancy Trotter Landry and, this year, some rather incredible acts from the outstanding Konjowoch troupe from Ethiopia.  The women juggled spinning handkerchiefs whilst performing some impressive acrobatics.

It was possibly the men who stole the show though – no I don’t know how they did it, either!

We’d never seen anything quite like it – amazing.

(There’s a great account of the circus here with more photos too.)

Finishing off with supper in the Circus Sauce tent is always a good idea.

The show isn’t over till the Kitchenettes have sung, anyway!

Of course, when all the fun is over and the goodbyes have been said, there is work to be done.

There’s always a blog post to write too

Excitement

I’ve been doing one of those tagged challenges on my FB page: Post a photo every day for a week with the theme of nature.  It’s quite fun, really, because it’s meant I’ve spent time looking through folders of photographs in Picasa and in doing so, I’ve revisited several places and enjoyed the remembering.  I took the photo above whilst on a cruise a few years ago, sailing off the coast of Papua New Guinea and thought it looked as though someone had thrown a pot of paint at the sky.

As regular readers will know, we really enjoy our annual cruise.  I never tire of watching the sea, the sky and the ever changing pattern of the waves.  Though I love the fun and spirit of our road trips and am curious enough about the world to want to spend time travelling independently off the beaten track, there can be no more comfortable way to see the world than from a luxury cruise ship. 

There’s one problem though: if the ship isn’t going somewhere you fancy, then you have to think again and that’s exactly what happened when we were ready to book something for early 2017.  We were not ready to revisit the same places we’ve been in recent years and the itineraries didn’t include places on our wish list at the time of year we want to travel.  There wasn’t an obvious answer, so we dithered a while until one possibility occurred to us.  It was on a brand new ship which was creating much curiosity and excitement and of course, by the time we had the idea, others had got there first and there was a waiting list.

We placed our deposit and added our names to the bottom of it, hoping that, as the weeks sped by, people would change their minds and cancel.  We were advised that we were twelfth in line, which seemed pretty far from the top, but then, a few weeks later, we were seventh.  We were unsure whether to be “squeaky wheels” and call the reservations people from time to time to ask how things were going, or whether to be patient and have confidence that they would call us if something came up.  The final payment for the cruise in question was due mid-August, so as July came to a close we were hopeful that money might provoke at least a couple of cancellations (I know, horrible, isn’t it!?)  But whereas we Europeans have steep cancellation policies which make us think twice before committing to a booking, in other parts of the world, full refunds mean that plans are frequently changed when a better offer comes along.

In the meantime, we were musing on alternatives for early 2017.  Maybe we’d head in an easterly direction and meet up with Tra in Saigon for a few days before exploring another corner of SE Asia?  My Hero fancies seeing some of the Silk Road and so we’d been looking at Uzbekistan and maybe some of the historic parts of Iran. But I didn’t fancy the idea of wearing a burqa for two weeks and one way and another, we hadn’t really focused on anything specific.

To satisfy our little cruise “itch” we agreed to join our sweet Californian friends Ellis and Mary  in the Baltic this autumn.  Originally, we were just going to meet up with them for a weekend in Copenhagen, but the more we thought about it, the more we realised we really wanted to sail off on our long-time favourite ship with them too!  Well, it would just mean that our 2017 cruise happened to be in late 2016, wouldn’t it? 

So, here we were, in early August, still mulling over thoughts of travelling somewhere fun and exciting in the New Year, even if we haven’t a clue where just yet.  A chat with the cruise company last Friday confirmed that the new ship had proved very successful during its first couple of cruises and that, yes, we were still waitlisted.  Seventh in line.  Never mind.  We had thought when we placed that deposit that this might happen and decided that perhaps we’d better begin thinking more seriously about our plans now.

Imagine my Hero’s reaction then, when checking his email in between University Challenge and Only Connect last evening, he found an email with the header “Your Booking #XXXX, Suite XXXX”.  Sure enough, on closer reading, we find ourselves with a confirmed booking for just the right suite in just the right place on the cruise we rather fancied on the posh new ship next January.

Less than 24 hours later, we have confirmed flights, we’ve selected our seats on both outward and inbound planes, we’ve booked hotels and the car park, we’ve spoken to or emailed friends and decided which excursions we would like to take, booked places on those we can and putting our names down for a couple which are currently full. 

We are so very lucky!!

A mystery on my hands

Our family is not one for having heirlooms.  My parents had nothing much of value in their home and neither of them had family treasures such as old photograph albums to illustrate their heritage.  So researching my family history is a bit of a challenge.  I have the facts but not much of the back story.  Thankfully, I began to record what little they knew before it was too late and a few of their memories got me off to a good start. 

My Mum, however, did have one real treasure, which she gave to me.

The sampler had been passed to my Mum by her mother and she understood that it had been passed through her mother’s side of the family – but knew no more than that.  So, one of my aims in finding more about my family was to identify who Mary Farthing was and how she fitted into my story.

Considering its great age, the sampler is in pretty good shape and years of being stuffed in a dark sideboard cupboard means the colours are still bright.  When I was out judging a class of cross stitch pictures at Thornbury Show yesterday, I wondered how many of them will still be around in more than 250 year’s time, still looking good and provoking questions for their owner?

So, what has provoked this little flurry of excitement?  What sent me to my cupboard to retrieve the sampler and scan it into my computer?

The answer is, I have found Mary Farthing!  Not only have I found her, she’s there on the correct side of my family with links to the people I’d expected her to be linked to.  She’s not exactly a close relative: Ancestry.com identifies her as the 3rd great aunt of the wife of my 1st cousin 2x removed!

The bad news is that her dates don’t tally with the sampler.  “My” Mary Farthing was born in 1769, rather too late to stitch a sampler in 1754. 

One step forward, two steps back.

But I’m not done yet.  “My” Farthing family lived in the area of Foston in the Wolds, East Yorkshire, where there are other Farthings to investigate.  I have another lead from Google, which turned up this, which states that, “A tablet on the east wall commemorates Mary Farthing, who died in 1763.”  Could this be Mary the embroiderer?  I think I have some further investigations to make.

It’s not easy, but that’s the fun of researching family history, isn’t it?

Falling down the rabbit hole

We’ve had a house full of good friends during the last couple of weeks which means there’s been a lot of sitting around talking and quite a lot of doing and going and eating.  What fun!

Some things go on as normal though.  We still feed our trivia thirst by having the General Knowledge crossword on the kitchen table to complete over a few days.  My m-i-l cuts it from her paper each weekend and passes it on to us, never attaching the answers!  We have our own little rule of not googling anything until we are down to the last one or two answers and of course, we never enter the competition, because by the time we’re done, it’s almost into next week.

This week,  45 down prompted a memory.  Sitting at the table with our friends, I filled in the word “singlet” and muttered “Knitting a Singlet for Cecil”.

It’s something Daddy would say, if prompted by the name Cecil, the word singlet or anyone knitting!  I never knew where the line came from or how he came upon it, but it would always make me smile (It’s that name, Cecil, isn’t it?) and I imagine, that was one reason why he said it!

So I did what we all do now, when the conversation turned to where the line came from: I googled.

I found this.  It’s a song – which you probably knew already, but this was the first I’d heard. 

I googled some more and found all the words.

So I’m knitting a singlet for Cecil (Sharp?)

I’m courting a lad such a nice sort of lad, but he’s so sentimental you’ll say.
He’s asked for a keepsake to wear next his heart to treasure when I am away.

So I’m knitting a singlet for Cecil, a nice woolly singlet for Cecil,
it’ll keep him as snug as a bug in a rug as in it’s embrace he will nestle.

It’s fancy where it should be plain but I can’t pull it all out again,
it’s low at the back and the front it’s a ‘v’ and the arm holes are not where I meant them to be,
but it’s soft so it’s sure to remind him of me, that singlet I knitted for Cecil.

So I’m knitting a singlet for Cecil, a nice woolly singlet for Cecil,
it’ll keep him as snug as a bug in a rug as in it’s embrace he will nestle.

I couldn’t afford so much wool so he’ll have to keep giving a pull,
he’ll have to use flakes when he washes the thing,
but just like the ivy I know it will cling, & lots of fond memories it’s certain to bring
that singlet I knitted for Cecil.

A keepsake to wear next his heart fancy that; to please him i really do try,
I’ve looked in the shops til I’ve got a stiff neck & I can’t find a darn thing to buy.
So I’m knitting a singlet for Cecil a nice woolly singlet for Cecil,
it’ll keep him as snug as a bug in a rug as in it’s embrace he will nestle.

My keepsake he’ll never forget, it’ll tickle his fancy you’ll bet,
it’s such a nice colour he’s sure to look swell,
it’s the woolliest wool that the wool sellers sell it’ll tickle him where
he can’t scratch as well that singlet I knitted for Cecil.

So I’m knitting a singlet for Cecil, a nice woolly singlet for Cecil,
it’ll keep him as snug as a bug in a rug as in it’s embrace he will nestle.

It’s the first time that I’ve knit one of these & it’s shorter than fashion decrees,
he might get a chill both behind and afore I think I will add just a few inches more
& then he can tuck it in his bottom drawer,
that singlet I knitted for Cecil.

Freddie Robins

Well!  who knew?  I can imagine that hitting the spot during the war, when my Great Aunts were sitting around knitting in an afternoon (as they did) and Daddy was hauled along to sit with them and his mother!

But I wasn’t done.  I spotted a video there amongst the google listings too, but sadly it wouldn’t play.

Thankfully though, it was there on Spotify, on an album of Knitting songs.  Yes, of course we had to listen!  (It did go on a bit…)

 

I now discover Melanie Gall and not just one but two collections of knitting songs from WW1 and 2…

And you wonder why there hasn’t been a blog post for a while?

We shall overcome

I’ve been trying to remember what I remember from those days when the events of the US Civil Rights campaign were unfolding.  I was only just born when Rosa Parks refused to get off her bus, so it’s unsurprising that I don’t remember that.  I was ten or thereabouts when the march from Selma to Montgomery took place and whilst I might have been more aware of that, I grew up in a community more concerned with events closer to home; reports of sunken trawlers and the Cod War with Iceland featured larger in my life than Civil Rights issues in a place so far from Hull.

One thing I do remember is the song We shall overcome though I think I remember it most clearly sung by Joan Baez.  I really don’t know, but when I heard it today, that was the first link to my recollection of the events I am still learning so much about.

We’d set today aside for exploring Montgomery, capital of Alabama and the location of many events in both the Civil War and more recently, the campaign for Civil Rights.

We began at the State Capitol, shining white in the morning sunshine.

We enjoyed a tour with Sharren, our guide, who gave us a great deal of historical background and pointed out the most important features.

Unlike the Georgia Capitol building, this one was as decorative as others we’ve seen and looking up to the dome, we could learn about the major events in Alabama history, as painted by Roderick MacKenzie.

 

We were able to take a look inside both houses, though the business of governing Alabama now goes on in another building and these chambers were merely historic.

Our next stop was outside, under the portico, where Jefferson Davis was inaugurated in 1861 as the first and only President of the Confederacy, because we were to learn about the secession of Alabama on this, the day when thoughts of leave/remain were very much in our minds.

From here too, we could see where Governor George Wallace denied entry to the Capitol estate to the marchers who had come from Selma, when Martin Luther King turned his back on the Capitol and spoke to the crowd.

From here, we crossed the road to the first White House of the Confederacy: another troubling period of history altogether.

We were greeted enthusiastically by a couple of chaps who had a great deal of information to share and whose personalities alone filled the house.  This was Jefferson Davis’s home whilst he was President though it didn’t always stand on this spot, having been moved from elsewhere in the city.

The house itself was quite grand and much of the furniture was original, having been bequeathed by Mrs Davis on her death.

Of course, there were nuances we simply didn’t get, like the significance of the titles of the songs on the piano, because it was quite clear that we were on Confederate territory here, even before we overheard the whispered advice to another visitor that “flags were available under the counter in the store upon request”.

It takes generations to overcome such allegiances; a particularly sobering thought on this, our Referendum day.

Our next stop was the Alabama Museum, where a variety of displays interested and entertained us.

Of course, one room told the story of the 1950s; of Hank Williams, Nat King Cole and segregation.

But had it not been for Mary, the significance of one image would have passed me by.  She pointed out the gentleman in the light raincoat, identifying him as John Lewis, current Georgia politician and even today, making a stand.  Being a “Civil Rights Legend” is a lifetime role, it seems.

He had been part of the Selma-Montgomery march which Governor Wallace had stopped in its tracks at the foot of the Capitol steps.  Our next stop was to be the Civil Rights Memorial Centre and here we were keen to see the memorial itself, designed by the same architect as the Vietnam Veterans Memorial in Washington DC, Maya Lin.

Here was a powerful quote from Martin Luther King Jnr’s “I have a dream” speech

and a circular fountain listing the major events up to and including Martin Luther King Jnr’s assassination.  Powerful and highly effective, I couldn’t help but feel that this was the kind of memorial MLK himself deserved.

Inside, we added our names to the wall.

because if we didn’t feel moved and inspired by the things we’d seen in the last 24 hours, then we would have hearts of stone.

And anyway, there was still Rosa.  Rosa Parks; she of the bus incident in the year I was born.

It all happened here, by the fountain in the middle of Montgomery.

This quiet, unassuming woman’s action in refusing to get off the bus to allow a white man to sit in her place led to more than a year of boycotts of the buses here.

In the museum dedicated to her memory, there indeed was a bus and plenty of other material relating to the events which were triggered by Rosa Park’s actions that day.  Yet more powerful and inspiring stuff about which I realise I knew so little until I came here.

So here we were, on a hot (97F) Alabama afternoon, standing and absorbing all of these gruesome stories and events.  Suddenly, we felt we’d seen enough and felt rather overwhelmed by it all.

We also felt rather preoccupied by the events taking place back at home, where we had done all we could to ensure a secure future for our family by voting to remain in the EU, and could only await the outcome this evening.  We’ve felt troubled by the campaign, have found ourselves at odds with friends who don’t share our opinions and for the first time ever, have openly spoken of our views and nailed our colours to the mast.  Mindful of the two men in the Confederate White House too, we know such partisan behaviour lasts generations.

It was time to return to the hotel, to cool down and do a little journalling!

The Capitol Heights Baptist Church gave us a little giggle on the way.