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.

Tourists in our own patch

Occasionally, we find a good reason to take a day off and explore somewhere new.  It doesn’t have to be far away and though we didn’t venture more than an hour and a half from home, we delighted in a bit of discovery.

Actually, Shepton Mallet wasn’t new to us at all.  We’d even been to this complex of buildings previously to visit the Mulberry Outlet here, but since we were last here all kinds of developments have taken place and it was worth a couple of hours on a Sunday morning.

To begin with, we headed for the cafe, to work out what was where.  I knew there were gardens here and I knew there were some shops, but that was it. 

We made a start in the shops, some of which were full of an eclectic mix of bits and pieces, including these plaited rope baskets.  Gorgeous colours, eh?

There were designer clothes outlets, a Paul Smith sale and familiar names like LK Bennett and Orla Kiely, but what caught my eye was a basket of remaindered Daylesford products.  Dishwasher rinse aid, anyone?

We’d no need of anything there and looking at the sun trying to come out, we took a chance and headed for the garden, hoping the downpour wouldn’t happen when we were furthest from shelter.  The gardens at Kilver Court lay beneath the towering pillars of a railway viaduct and the water from the millpond gives a peaceful feel to an otherwise industrial setting.

We followed the pathway around the pond, stopping to take a closer look at the Dovecote, where there were examples of weddings and other events which had taken place there.

Not a bad backdrop, eh?

A little further along I picked up a little treasure.

I loved that shape, vaguely indian in feel, the pattern and the texture!  What a little gem.  I couldn’t resist gathering a handful of them to bring home.

Lovely place.  How glad we were that we’d come.  Oh, and no, I didn’t buy a handbag

Feeling hungry, we decided to head for Bruton, Somerset.  We’d driven through the town on our way back from somewhere last year and I’d earmarked it as somewhere worth exploring further.  I had since read of The Chapel and had it in mind when we were talking about finding a spot of lunch.

Oh. My. Goodness.

All I can say is that it’s a good job it’s not closer to home or we could have a serious problem there.  Delightful people, great food and oh so stylish, too.

As we returned to our car, parked on the bridge over the river Brue, we spotted the sign to Hauser and Wirth, the “other” thing I’d remembered about Bruton (though I knew nothing more than the fact it’s an art gallery).

It being Sunday afternoon, it was ever so slightly busy.  Who knew there were so many art fans in this part of the world?  (The Telegraph did it seems)

Sadly, no photographs allowed of the exhibition: Jenny Holzer’s Softer Targets, though I might not have taken many anyway as I found it somewhat disturbing.  Where I would have taken oodles of photographs was the Oudolf Field, but excepting these amazing Michaelmas Daisies, I took none, unsure of where the “gallery” ended and the “garden” began.

Please, follow that link to the website and see why I was totally captivated by the planting.  I’m not a gardener – neither of us are really – but we know what we like!  If I listed a few places where I’ve stood and admired, it would certainly include the Lurie garden by Grant Park in Chicago, the Highline in New York and this one….and guess what?  They are all designed by Piet Oudolf!  How satisfying is that?  Clearly, I am (we are) consistent in our taste for such planting and maybe, just maybe, it’s something to consider for our own patch?

(good grief, I can’t believe I’m even thinking about gardening!!)

Well, before we got too excited, we decided to head for the main goal of the day; to The Pig near Bath, where Mary, Diana and a group of American travelling companions were arriving shortly.  We’d arranged to join them all for dinner and so settled ourselves in the drawing room with a couple of pots of tea and the Sunday papers.

Dinner, in the private dining room was spectacular!  Not only had the staff realised that this group were focused on books and fiction and strewn the table with appropriately interesting titles, they had lit the room by candlelight and created such a lovely, comforting atmosphere none of us wanted to leave.

Not only that, but in celebration of Rosh Hashanah small platters of apples and honey were shared.  (And yes, of course, the location of this small celebration didn’t go unnoticed and caused some amusement!)

But who couldn’t love such delicious food, so beautifully served in such glorious surroundings?

Meanwhile

There has been life beyond sewing a bag.

I met a friend for lunch the other day in a place I’ve heard about but never been.  At times, it felt as though we were in someone’s junk yard.  More shabby than chic, but the food and service were excellent!

Thursday night was WI and as our village hall gets a bit of an upgrade, the school have been updating the wallhangings as well.  Lovely new “earth, water, air” work, all based on weavings using CDs.  Very clever and perfect for the setting, too.  Our speaker told us about the Stroud Food Bank, an organisation many of us support but about which we knew little, it seems.

On Friday I had a meeting at the Gloucester M5 Services, on the Southbound side where there’s a great fishmonger.  I liked the way he parcelled my fish up with paper and string but loved that he asked for my shopping bag and placed a freezer pack at the bottom of it to keep my fish cool too.  That’s service, isn’t it?

As I was cooking the fish, I spotted a visitor in the garden, stopping by the pond for a drink.

I think he knew I had my camera to hand as he posed so nicely, don’t you?