Banking for Victory!

The main reason for earmarking this for a day out was Upton House.  I’d read how the house and gardens had been used for a special exhibition to do with WW2 and taken a look at the website.  I decided this was something I’d rather like to see.

First impressions were interesting!

Entering the ticket office and showing our National Trust cards, we smiled and commented to the staff member how clever this was, noting the wartime music playing in the background.  “Hmm”, said he, “it was fun when it began in March, but we are getting a little used to it now”.  I knew what he meant.  Sometimes, these themes get a bit out of hand.

With timed ticket and the map/guide in hand, we set off to the house.  Our entry wasn’t for almost an hour, so we hoped we’d find something of interest.

Get the picture?

Our first stop was in a cinema tent, where we sat and watched a little of the background to the story.  I knew nothing of that, but soon learned that Lord Bearsted and his family owned Upton House, that amongst other things, he was the chairman of Samuel’s Bank in the City and that during the war, he evacuated the bank and all the staff to Upton, so they could continue their work in more peaceful surroundings.

The family had been serious art collectors and part of the story concerned the artworks.  The family (trust?) continue to support the arts and there was an exhibition in the old Squash Courts to view.  I’m not sure it quite worked for us, but I’ll find out a little more and maybe I’ll get a clearer understanding of the artist and her work.

On such a beautiful afternoon, it was great to have time to stroll around the grounds and explore one or two hidden corners.

The views of the surrounding area are stunning and we were drawn to walk towards the haha, initially to look back at the house.

But we were amused/rewarded by the hidden parts of the garden too!

The gardeners have had fun here as well, recreating the “dig for victory” planting, with tomatoes and rhubarb in the borders where flowers would have been.

Closer to the house were borders of peas and beans, and a few places where the harvest had already happened.

Time to go in, then, for an introductory talk in the kitchen and a short film setting the scene.

Being easily distracted, I couldn’t help but read all the notices on the walls – feeling surprised by the tone of this morale-boosting poster and wondering how it would be received today.

My hero pointed out the phrase “Bones make glue for aeroplanes” and remarked how far we’ve come.  I wondered at what point we stopped referring to “salvage”.

There was so much detail.  Someone had such fun putting it all together, I could tell!

I couldn’t help but admire the style in which information was shown.  The cloths hanging as backdrops for small arrangements, all so well thought through.  The staff member who delivered the introduction explained that we were welcome to explore the house on our own and that we should feel free to open drawers, to have a poke around and to discover as much as we could on our visit.  Interesting!

We went into the first room, then; the sitting room, where the bank staff had set up their office.

Here, it became clear what we had been told.  We could sit and have a go on the old typewriters (we did!) we could take a look around and imagine (remember?) how offices used to be.

Before computers and email, when paperwork was colour coded “on buff” (or peach…) and items were pigeonholed.

When there was no such thing as “secure data” and nothing was shredded.

When people smoked in their office and desks had ashtrays.  (yuk)

And when ladies like Miss Hazelrigg ruled their domain with a steely presence.  (“Miss Hazelrigg was a secretary – a cut above – not a run of the mill typist.  She had blonde hair and was beautiful.  She was very smart and imposing”) 

Yes, of course I opened the drawers!

Oh, how times have changed.

Next door, there was a staff common room, with a comfy sofa and chairs where staff would have gathered to listen to the radio   wireless of an evening, read and play board games.

We’d been told about the effect of all of this on the staff, many of whom had left their family in London, amidst the bombing and the hardship.  Here they were, living in comparative splendour in a kind of “holiday camp” atmosphere and for some, it was somewhat of a challenge.

But life still involved a few hardships and similar challenges of wartime to everyone else.

The blackout, rationing and so on still applied.

The ARP warden’s station was at the top of the stairs.

But I’ll bet there were few so lucky as to have a lunchbox filled with such treats.

Whilst here, the staff slept in dormitories and our next stop was in one of the women’s bedrooms where a small sewing machine and a few other bits told the “make do and mend” story.

A pinboard of ephemera would have kept me happy for an hour or two!

Miss Hazelrigg’s bedside table had her clothing coupons and powder compact there to hand.

Around the corner in the bathroom was possibly the single “information overloaded” area in the whole place.

The men had their own dormitories, including a room across the corridor here.

And whilst their bedtime habits appeared to be a little different from the ladies across the way,

their pinboard included some similar cuttings!

Having learned about the banking staff and how they had been accommodated in the house, we moved to the next part of the story; how Lord and Lady Bearsted had played key roles in the war.  As a prominent Jewish family, they had been generous not only to their staff, but to causes dear to their heart.  He had been involved in the setting up of the Kindertransport and she had worked tirelessly for the WRVS and the YMCA.  Good people, both, doing their best for others.  Sad, then, to learn that they never really returned to live full time at Upton House after the war, that Lord Bearsted died in 1948 and his wife a few months later.

The third and final thread to the story was told in the basement.  The tale of the artworks.

We’d been told that the family were great art collectors and that they owned many works of international significance.  We’d seen labels like this hanging from some of the pictures, though I’ll admit to not paying much attention to the paintings and the china collections around the house, finding too much else to capture my attention!

However, when treasures from the National Gallery were moved to a slate quarry in North Wales for safe keeping, Lord Bearsted was able to include 40 of his own paintings to be safely stowed away for the duration of the war.  Here, we learned the story of how they were packaged and transported and together with the house and wider collection, were all given to the nation on his death.

 

Finally, I was glad to learn a little about the whole concept of the transformation of the house and the story behind the exhibition.  We’d so admired the consistency, the overall design and the vision of whoever was responsible (and clearly, were not alone in our admiration, either)

As we left, you’ll guess which page we squeezed our red dots onto.

The exhibition continues into next year and I’m sure “we’ll meet again”, probably not for the Wartime Christmas, but to take another look at all the details we surely missed.  In the meantime, I hope the National Trust follow on from this success with similar innovative projects.  If they do, we’ll be there!

Dropping in

We find that, with both of us filling our days with a variety of responsibilities, if there’s something we’d both like to do, we need to put in on the calendar well in advance.  We’d earmarked Friday 25th as one of those days, so when I had a call from the office to ask if I could drop in for an hour, I made sure it was “first thing”, so’s not to interfere with our plans.

It was a glorious Autumn day, too.  Just meant to be.  I’d finished in the office by 10 so we got a good start and were heading up the Fosse Way in good time, even though our intended destination didn’t open until 1pm.  We thought it was a great opportunity to drop into a favourite place: Compton Verney, take a look around and maybe have a spot of lunch.  I wondered whether to make use of one of my membership perks and book a table, it being Friday and all, but thought we’d go with the flow and sort something out whilst there.

The great thing about Compton Verney is that there is always something to delight.  On this occasion, it was a small gallery of drawings worked in biro by Albert H Barnett.

The detail in each and the sheer enthusiasm with which they were drawn was immediately appealing and in spite of the difficult lighting, I couldn’t resist taking one or two photographs.  They were drawn on whatever paper he had to hand – the back of envelopes, the lined page from a notebook, whatever and though the spelling was a little creative in places, the charm shone through.

A great reminder for those of us who forget to keep up with their daily drawings!

Much of the permanent collection here is pretty familiar but it’s always good to rediscover and enjoy the small changes which happen in the months between our visits.  On Friday, they were between exhibitions, so we had the place more or less to ourselves and without the temptation to focus on the new and exciting, we could dawdle and play around a little.

After all, who doesn’t like to interact    This simple set of blocks for creating a repeat design is so clever and offers endless fun for those who like to fiddle about (and those who like to mess it up!)

Of course, I couldn’t leave without saying hello to my favourite piece.  I’ve written about it here before and since then, seen similar vessels a little closer to its place of origin.  But it remains my favourite and sitting in a newly refurbished gallery, it was looking as stunning as ever.

It was displayed along with a few pieces on loan which I hadn’t seen before, including this beautiful wine vessel.

The staff member on duty shared my enthusiasm and pointed out that the colours matched my jeans, malachite green cardi and blue/green/brown scarf perfectly! 

We chatted a while about the new display arrangements and the spectacular lighting which makes the glass in front of these beautiful items disappear.  Not only that, but I was impressed by the new reference system, using silhouettes of each object rather than numbers. 

The silhouettes were used on other information panels around the gallery and were a really effective point of reference.

The silhouettes were also put to great effect in the family room, where visitors had created all kinds of variations for designs on their favourite vessels in the collection. 

In fact, the commitment to families and younger visitors is impressive here, with themed backpacks available to borrow.  I could be tempted to make use of one myself!

Anyway, with lunchtime fast approaching, we scuttled through the ground floor galleries with only a brief stop to note the look on this Elizabethan chap’s face.  He doesn't look too impressed, does he?  (We can’t remember his name but my hero remembers that he was knighted during one of the Queen’s Royal Progresses and he thinks he came from Norfolk!)

The arrangement of these four beauties amused me, too.

Time for lunch then.  Would we find a free table in the (excellent and frequently very busy) restaurant? 

No problem.  We had no need to worry. We were the only ones there

Join me to read about the “main event” in the next post.

Here, there and places in between

Last week was a bit of a whirl, but it’s about time that I shared what a great time we had in Liverpool.  But you know, the thing is about having a great time?  I forget to take pictures!

My Hero and I had enjoyed meeting Mary’s group at The Pig near Bath last Sunday evening and were glad to have a little longer with them when they joined us at home for tea on Monday afternoon.  They spent Monday night at the newly refurbished Queens Hotel in Cheltenham, where I joined in the fun on Tuesday, for breakfast.

The Queens has changed hands several times over the last few years but it appears that the new owners (Accor group – it’s now a Mercure) have invested heavily and I must say, the public rooms are very attractive and fresh. 

We arrived in Liverpool in the early afternoon and were ready to hit the museums, the galleries and for some, the library.  Mary had themed the tour on “fact and fiction”, because several members of the group were library docents and leaders of book groups.  All had an interest in literature and (I think) Liverpool was completely unknown territory for them, too.  We were staying at the Hilton, right there opposite Albert Dock, so we were perfectly placed to fill our afternoon with as much culture as we could soak up.  Yes, there’s John Lewis right next door as well, so shopping needs could be satisfied

We headed over to the Museum of Liverpool, following up on the recce we’d done last Autumn.  I was keen to revisit a couple of the exhibits and to see the temporary exhibition which was showing.

The photographs in the “Poppies” show portraits of women whose lives were affected by war, including the photographer’s mother, who was a child in Hull during WW2 – just like mine.  Her story echoed those told to me by both my parents, growing up in the most severely damaged city in the country outside London.  But there were more recent stories as well, many of them affecting and very moving.

Whilst we were looking around, needless to say, we bumped into a few familiar faces and decided they were just the right people to join us in the karaoke booth!  As we stood delivering a memorable rendition of Yellow Submarine we attracted a little curious interest from outside (I hope they weren’t an audience in the literal sense of the word) but turning my camera on them soon sent them elsewhere!  Though I wonder, did that chap get a good shot of that one-off performance?

Before leaving, we had a quick look around the exhibit on Women’s Suffrage once again, before retreating to the cafe for a spot of tea.  Mary’s group follow a fun-packed schedule, I must say!

Thankfully, Liverpool was looking splendid in the sunshine and I believe, endeared itself to everyone in exactly the same way as it wins my heart every time I’m there.

After dinner at Jamies  and a good night’s sleep, it was time for them to hit the road again and for me to make my way to Lime Street Station.  They were heading for Yorkshire, I was heading home.  I was sorry not to be travelling further with such a delightful group of women (and gentleman!) but delighted that I’d been able to spend some time with them, to catch up with the friends I already knew and make a few new friends too.  Next time we are in Los Angeles (or Chicago!) fun is definitely on the cards.

Having waved them off, I walked through the city centre to Lime Street, where I’d been told by Edward to look out for a fun statue.  I collected my ticket and looked around but didn’t spot anything, so asked a young woman on a trade stand there where it was.

“Look over there, they look like people” – of course

Sure enough, there they were, Ken Dodd and Bessie Braddock, looking all the world like people.

I love Liverpool!

Word games

The last three days have been really fascinating. 

I spent Thursday in Gloucester, working with an OFSTED inspector who shared his professional expertise in a training session for members of the Observation and Support team.  For several years we’ve graded the teaching and learning we see on a scale of 1-4.  Grade 1 is applied to an outstanding session and if we’ve identified such outstanding practice, then our report must have plenty of evidence, expressed with sufficient superlative phrases.  A less than outstanding session might involve more use of an adjective from the “good” or “satisfactory” lists which we have to refer to when writing reports; a kind of coded indication of our grading judgements. However, we are moving away from applying a numerical grade and discussion centred on whether our reports will imply a grade nevertheless, as a result of the words we choose to use.  After all, if we make a note of excellent teaching and exemplary differentiation which enables highly effective learning, won’t it simply be identified as a “Grade 1” lesson? 

Maybe we should avoid using such grade-specific language, then?  Perhaps by choosing our words carefully we can write our reports in a way that makes it difficult to infer a numerical grade?  One witty colleague suggested “not as bad as it could have been”     In any case, it looks like we are going to be expected to pussyfoot around, avoiding the use of any grade-specific language and probably using rather a lot of mitigators instead of being clear and concise as has previously been expected.

(If you are interested in more about this, there’s an interesting discussion here)

The most important thing, in my opinion, is to give clear and affirmative feedback.  No-one wants to be told they are not doing well, we don’t want to have our work pulled to pieces or be given the impression we are wasting our time.  I would much rather have an honest and constructive evaluation of my work and some suggestions about how I could improve.  I don’t need a number or a grade, either.  So perhaps that’s where we’re going with this?  I hope so!

But you know, the WI got there first.

Yesterday, I was judging my last show of the season, in Moreton in Marsh.  43 entries in six different classes and two hours to evaluate the entries, to find the winners and offer feedback.  The tried and tested NFWI Craft Judging system was as effective as ever and as I worked my way through a class of beautifully knitted socks and gloves, a class of assorted pincushions and onto a mixed class of all kinds of amazing things, I got into my groove of identifying skills, giving credit for great craftsmanship and good choices of material and design.  Sadly, even an experienced craft judge can’t write comments for 43 items in a couple of hours (we are trained to judge 15 items per hour – that’s four minutes to write a mark and a comment on each) so I wasn’t able to share my thoughts except in a class comment explaining what I’d been looking for and why the winners won.  But had I the time, I would have loved to have complimented the makers of matching socks, those who made exquisite cards and kept them crisp and fresh and who were brave enough to handwrite a greeting inside them.  I might have offered advice about casting on a sock loosely enough to be comfortable (google “stretchy cast on method” to find out how) and praised the maker of a beaded bracelet for her tenacity in getting all those teeny-weeny beads into place.  I’d have used my lexicon of words and phrases, compiled during my training and continually revised and updated, which I keep in my pocket and refer to from time to time.  Most importantly, I’d need to make sure that my words matched the marks, because just like OFSTED, a WI judge shouldn’t describe an entry she’s just awarded 17 marks out of 20 as “excellent”.

It’s all about the feedback, isn’t it?

All of this was very much on my mind as I took my place on a panel interviewing nominees for the “people” categories of the UK Bus Awards.  We had met earlier in the Summer to make a shortlist on the basis of their nominations and I’d lost count of the number of times I read about managers “having an open door policy” and drivers “going the extra mile” because, once again, it’s all about the words, isn’t it?  How refreshing then, to meet those we’d identified as potential winners and to hear their enthusiasm shine through their nervous presentations.  We judges had the benefit of a WI-style marksheet so we could score each finalist on different aspects of their professional ability and following their presentation, an opportunity to ask questions.

Whether or not it was as a result of everything else I’ve been doing lately, or simply because I empathised with each one of the finalists doing their best to keep it together, I couldn’t help but preface my question (usually about professional development) with some positive and constructive feedback.  Thankfully, since they were all finalists and at the top of their game, professionally speaking, I could use plenty of superlatives.  I didn’t need a list or a code, I could simply offer my opinion.

I seem to have plenty of them

100 years today

I couldn’t let the day go by without recording the centenary celebrations of the WI, even if it does feel as though it’s been a somewhat ongoing celebration for quite some time.

In the company of many others and knowing that I was likely to be on a train at 11am this morning, I signed up to the NFWI Thunderclap a couple of days ago with a tweet and a facebook post, because September 16th is when it all began.

Lo and behold, as I was standing on Stafford station (because my train was delayed slightly) my post appeared on Facebook.  Even more surprising (because I am no Twitter afficionado) my tweet was sent.

I’m proud to be part of the celebrations and felt rather disappointed that my own WI didn’t mark the anniversary at our meeting last week.  I’d have liked to have sang Jerusalem or maybe had a cake but never mind, it didn’t end there.

Whilst I was on my way home from Liverpool a small bunch of stitchers were busy recording the Twitter greetings in the WI’s Kings Road office. I’d have liked to have been there with my needle and thread too, but I haven’t yet managed to be in two places at once!

Look what Clare did, though.

Thanks Clare! 

I wonder how many tweets they managed to stitch?  Watch this space and I’ll share the end result when it’s complete.