A walk around Ashbourne

I'm going to take you on a walk around one of my favourite Derbyshire towns, Ashbourne. If I could chose where I want to live then this place would be high on my list, it's just a dream though as we could never afford to live there. Small, two up, two down cottages with a tiny back yard and on-street parking cost more here than our three bedroomed, detached house with garage, conservatory and huge garden in Stoke. I just love the busy market town atmosphere of the place coupled with its historic buildings and proximity to the Peak District. Park near the swimming pool and wander through the old railway tunnel and you are straight on to the Tissington Trail. Last year we walked most of the Tissington Trail and all of the High Peak Trail which joins it at Parsley Hay. Up above the railway tunnel and road bridge is the main road into Ashbourne and this end of the town has so many old buildings.



This is St Oswald's Church, which has a very rich and interesting history far too detailed to go into here but you could visit the Ashbourne Town website to find out more. Below is the 18th century home of Dr. John Taylor who was a great friend of Dr. Samuel Johnson of Lichfield. Dr Johnson often stayed at this house with John Taylor who intended leaving the property to his good friend; unfortunately Dr Johnson died before him.



Next to Dr. Taylor's house are the Owlsfields Almshouses, built in 1640 with the upper stories added much later in 1840.



Opposite the alms houses stands the old Grammar School, founded by the Cockayne family and built between 1585 and 1603.



Ashbourne is noted for its Antique shops, of which there are many. This interesting one is just a little further down the street from the old grammar school on the walk towards the town centre.



And the one below is across the street, just up from where where the arch of The Green Man public house spans the street from one side to the other. The Green Man was Dr. Johnson's favourite inn, when he visited Ashbourne and it is said that he had his own chair there with his name carved into it.



Below are some more views of the town and market place. You can see The Green Man's arch across the street in the first photo.



There are lots of lovely little shops off and around the market place including a teddy bear shop, an 'Aladin's cave' of a kitchen and gift shop and a wonderful cut price book shop. Talking of books the writer George Elliot (Mary Anne Evans) used the town of Ashbourne in her novel Adam Bede but renamed it Oakbourne.



Below is the millenium clock opposite the Gingerbread shop and cafe.



There are lots of little alleyways and shops to discover around corners.



Places where you can poke around for bargains at your heart's content.



I didn't photograph it but there is also a wonderful art gallery in a Victorian building, formerly a magistrates court, where, on the top floor with its new mezzanine level built into the lofty roof space you will be served wonderful hot coffee and tasty, warm cheese scones. Who could ask for more?

Fragile Beauty

We nearly missed these lovely little snowdrops as we passed them by on our walk this morning. They were well back from the path, under the bare winter trees having pushed themselves up on sturdy yet fragile looking stems through all the dead, brown, damp leaves left from autumn. This was my first sighting of snowdrops this year.

To make a loose connection with my last post on the bulb industry in and around Spalding, snowdrops were one of the first flowers sent, in the 19th century, to the London markets from Spalding and they were sent to be used for medicinal purposes. I couldn't find out what exactly they were used for then but several references said that they were used in pain relief particularly for headaches. More recently extracts from the plants have been used in the making of the drug Reminyl which is used in the treatment of Alzheimer's disease.

I've been reading up on the history of the snowdrop and it is quite fascinating. The first reference to them growing in gardens is in Gerard's Herbal of 1597 and it is generally thought that they were brought into the country during the 15th century from Italy by monks to grow in their monasteries. They must surely have discovered the medicinal benefits of them and grown them in their physic gardens. The first record of snowdrops growing in the wild is as late as 1770 and it is widely accepted that most of the ones found in the wild will have come originally from the cultivated ones.

Not surprisingly there are also lots of folklore tales attached to snowdrops. According to legend snowdrops first appeared when Adam and Eve had been banished from the Garden of Eden into a barren, cold and wintery world, an angel appeared to assure the couple that there was hope, and that spring would come. The angel blew on some snowflakes and they fell as snowdrops. Thus snowdrops are a sign in the bleakest of winter that there is hope and that better times were on the way.

There are lots of superstitions attached to snowdrops too, mostly that it is bad luck to bring them into the house and that a single flower appearing in a garden was thought to foretell impending sadness or disaster. Like other white flowers they were associated with death. My first sighting of snowdrops always gives me the feeling of hope and that their appearance heralds the first death throes of winter, not gone yet, but eventually it will disappear to be replaced by the glories of spring.

I love snowdrops and would like to grow them in the garden. I've tried several times to plant them but in our heavy, damp, potteries clay soil they don't survive so now I seek them out on walks, on roadsides and in local gardens who specialise in growing them and open up trails and walks to the public in February each year. Nearest to us are Rode Hall in Cheshire or Hopton Hall in Derbyshire. Last year we visited Rode so perhaps this year we will visit Hopton.

Photos as promised

In my post 'Tommy and the Tulips' I mentioned a project that I had done for the Museum Association's Diploma and that I would post some photos that I had used of women connected with the Bulb Industry around Spalding.

Apologies about the poor quality of the photo above which shows Elizabeth Quincey of Fulney Hall, Spalding. Elizabeth was one of the earliest recorded bulb growers. After her father's death she carried on his work of market gardening, experimenting with bulbs and flowers and she is listed in an 1885 Trade Directory as a 'wholesale fruiterer and bulb grower'. On the 1881 census her husband, Christmas Quincey, is listed as a 'gardener and seedsman'.

Below are a couple of photos of women workers in the tulip fields, the first one is a particular favourite of mine, probably taken around 1910, when the bulb and cut flower industry was at its height, all the women are tidy and spruced up ready for the photographer, stern gang master or farmer in the background. The second photo is slightly more natural, although again posed and all of the women except one wearing the regulation bonnets which were worn, both in agricultural and horticultural field work to shield the face and neck against the sun and to guard against sun stroke. These bonnets were worn well into the 1950s but were gradually replaced by hats and scarves.

The photographs are charming and make the work look clean and easy, but of course it wasn't, as we all know any land work can be a back breaking, thankless and sometimes extremely miserable task, especially in inclement weather conditions.

Trying to be Crafty

Since last summer I'd been thinking that I ought to try and make little things like lavender bags and pin cushions. I'd kept putting it off but over the last couple of weeks after finally getting out to the fabric shops to see what material they had in their sales I was ready to go. Now, I'm not by any means a natural in this art form, in fact, I usually avoid anything to do with needles and thread apart from sewing on buttons and I really have to work myself up to doing that. I think it all stems from my first year at grammar school when, in what were then called domestic science classes, we had to sew our own cookery aprons and little hats. Oh, what a picture mine was and I spent the first couple of years in an oddly shaped, bunched up apron and a very strange looking hat. I still enjoyed the cooking though and I remember being pleased when my Christmas cake and later my jar of marmalade both went on display in the cookery lab.

What really inspired me was getting a new sewing machine last year. I have my mother's old Singer hand machine but I couldn't get it to work any more and I had a voucher for fifty pounds off this little treasure - so it only cost me just over 30 pounds. As you can see, Tom decided he had to have a ringside seat to watch the action.

I decided to venture further and make a bag from a very simple pattern that someone gave to me - Paul helped me by making the paper template and I pinned it to the fabric and cut it, he worked out where the folds had to be pressed in and I did all the sewing to put it together. I've got another one cut out and ready to sew and enough material left to make a couple of cushion covers.

I'm quite pleased with the finished articles and plan to make loads more things - so friends and family beware; you now know what you will be getting for presents in the future - as well as the homemade jam, marmalade and chutney of course.

A Walk by the River Severn

We decided that today we would visit Shrewsbury. It is one of my favourite towns and only 40 minutes away from where we live. We always drive to the Park and Ride and take the bus into town. It was such lovely weather that we decided to walk along the riverside path from the Welsh Bridge -



to the English Bridge. As you can see the river was very high and in places was lapping over the paths.



It was really too bright to take photos. Many of the willow trees were dangling into the river.



and the grassy banks were soaked.



We saw many different species of water birds including a cormorant but that was too quick for me to photograph as it went dipping and diving over the swollen river.



The gulls were having a great time. We passed this house on our walk it was called Julian's House. Lucky Julian.



This is Marine Terrace taken from the English Bridge you can see where the river has covered the pathway below.



Last, but not least, Shrewsbury Abbey church, nearly all that is left of the Abbey buildings, the little tree in front had white blossom on it!

Thanks

I've been given this award by Lois at Matsqui Musings and Rosie at Wuddled Murds - thanks both. I have to name others to pass this on to and also do a meme of '7 weird things about me' - I'm going to think about that but I will pass the award on to 7 of my favourite bloggers:-

Catherine at Alchamillamolly, Steph at Curlew Country, Robert at Park Views, Michelle at Sitting on a Cornflake, Rowan at Circle of the Year, Paul at Distant Thoughts and Tea at Tea and Margaritas.


Just a few things about me don't know if they are weird or not:-

1) I have to read the Guardian Weekend Magazine from the back to the front - any other magazine I'll read front to back - perhaps I find the things in the back of the magazine more interesting? I don't know.

2) When I'm pegging washing outside I match the colour of the pegs to the colour of the items I'm hanging out so that they don't colour clash.

3) I have to tidy up the living room at night before going to bed - fold newspapers, plump cushions and make sure the curtains don't have gaps where the cats have gone through into the windowsill. The cushions have to be pointed end up with zips at the bottom.

4) I don't like to see the underside of ships in dry dock, dark still water or boathouses on lakes - they all make me nervous.

5) I'd rather go to the dentist than the hair dresser - I hate having my hair done - stems from when I was a child and my mum used to take me to a hairdresser who used to push me face down over a bowl and then stand me on a small stool and pull me about to make me stand straight; she once nicked the back of my neck with the scissors as well.

6) I'm a morning person, I like to get going first thing when the day is new and fresh and full of promise. If I have to go out I like to get things done and be home by early afternoon because of:-

7) I really dislike the hours between 3p.m. and 6p.m. I get distracted, can't concentrate and totally slow down. Someone once told me that you were at your lowest ebb around the time you were born and as I was born at 4p.m. I can quite relate to this.

Are they suitably weird? They don't seem very unusual to me so perhaps I'm not totally weird:)

Tommy and the Tulips

I bought myself a bunch of yellow tulips to try to bring a bit of colour into my life, which, at the moment, seems very grey. The weather outside is wet and grey, the garden is dripping and sodden, the house seems dark, grey and dreary inside now the Christmas decorations are down and I feel - well - grey.

We thought, rather naively I suppose, that after Christmas things would get better, that maybe someone would want to look at our house but no. Over the last few days I've seen a couple of cars pass by and stop and look and I've thought that maybe they will book a viewing, again no. It is not to be.

I was pleased to see that the tulips were from Lincolnshire. It brought back memories of our time over there and of all the research I did for the Museum I worked for on the Bulb Industry in and around Spalding. I was looking through the project I did at Leicester University for the Museum Association's Diploma and there are some wonderful photos in it of our setting up the galleries at the museum and some lovely old ones of workers in the flowers fields which I may scan and share with you in a later post. I remember as well as producing the project I had to give a slide show and talk on our little Museum and how we had set it up and of the history of the building it was housed in - a 15th century merchants house. I was so nervous I could hardly speak as some of my fellow students were from huge museums like the V&A and the British Museum and there was little me from Spalding. It went ok and I had lots of questions and comments.

Of course, today, I think fields of cabbages, cauliflowers and pumpkins are more prolific than those of daffodils and tulips but the memories of fields of colour don't fade and the interesting history of the industry is still there to be explored.

So, in the meantime, here is Tommy with his tulips to bring a little colour and warmth into my life.

Mementos

I've found great inspiration this morning from a post I read over on Rowan's blog - Circle of the Year. She has a wonderful collection of 'Home Front' wartime ephemera and it had me searching through my mother's things to see what I could find of the same era.

As you see it is quite a small collection and I'm sorry about the quality of the photo as I have sun streaming through all windows this morning; which is actually quite cheering.

There are a couple of recipe leaflets, a letter dated 2nd September 1947 from The Board of Trade accepting my mother's resignation from her job as 'temporary Grade III clerk (part time) - I'm not sure what she did but it was something to do with the rationing of rubber to the shoe industry - Leicester, where she lived during the war was famous for it's shoe factories. There are two identity cards Mum's and mine - yes I have an identity card as I was born in 1950 and they were issued until 1954. The diaries are from 1945 and 1946 and full of inconsequential things like going to work, films seen, friends visited, distempering walls and having loads of family coming to stay and also her travels from Leicester to Shirebrook to visit her family. She writes letters to my father and waits impatiently for him to come home. The silk handkerchief was sent to mum by my father and has the insignia of the regiment he was with 'The Royal Army Medical Corps'. I know he served in North Scotland, Tripoli and I think Italy as the lovely sepia post cards he brought back are of buildings in 'Firenze Antica'.

The recipe book 'Kitchen Parade - Day to Day Menus for All' was published in September 1941 in order to 'help the housewife solve problems peculiar to these perplexing times'. Here is a typical menu for a Wednesday - Old Fashioned Bean Soup, Fried Sausages, Mashed Potatoes and Prune Mould - and for a Friday - Bean Soup, Baked mackerel or herring, boiled potatoes and apple pudding.

Mmm - I think it is time for lunch!

Into 2008

Sometimes life is just full of little surprises - Happy New Year!

Today I began to feel a little better. We had a long walk in a very misty and murky Manifold Valley - not many people around when we set out but quite a few when we came back - too misty for photos I'm afraid. Paul cooked a lovely lasagne later on, I put up the new calendars and we had visits and phone calls from friends and neighbours - I'm still coughing but it all seems easier now.

Venturing Out

We decided to celebrate feeling slightly better by venturing out for the first time in a week. Paul had been as far as the local shop a couple of times but I hadn't set foot outside since last Saturday. We drove to Trentham and parked at the quieter car park near the Monkey Forest and walked down along the lakeside.



It was cold and breezy but bright. Underfoot was quite muddy some of the mud bearing evidence of recent deer passage. Their tracks were leading off towards the new clearings. We didn't walk too far today and once we reached the clearings we turned round and headed back.



There were plenty of people out and about and a lone canoeist on the lake swirling around on the still water. The gulls were gathering around something they had found on the far side of the lake.



I love this little spot where the bridge goes over the stream as it enters the lake. We headed towards the lakeside cafe and sat outside clutching hot coffee (it still doesn't taste right to me) and watched the world go by.



By the time I took this last photo the sun was out and more canoeists were out on the lake. Families were feeding the ducks and a lone magpie (good day my lord) was doing a strange kind of 'backwards, forwards, side ways on and back again' jig on the fence right in front of us. It was time to go home.

Lost Christmas

I would say that it hit me, like a bolt out of the blue, on Saturday afternoon, after an early shopping trip to the dreaded Tesco and following a nice lunch. I have only vague memories of Sunday, Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, Boxing Day and yesterday as I spent most of the days in bed, unable to read, visions flashing by on the small upstairs TV screen, as I lay in some sort of Actifed induced haze, coughing - constantly coughing, until my throat and stomach and chest hurt. I coughed so much one night I pulled several stomach muscles and had to use the Deep Heat spray as well. I never did get round to putting back the curtains I'd taken down to launder; we never managed to cook the 'Chestnut and Red Wine Pate en Croute' ready for Christmas Day and I finally got round to washing the kitchen and conservatory floor this morning - you will have gathered from this that those were the last preparations I had to do for Christmas and that both Paul and I had been floored by the dreaded flu virus. Meanwhile, the fridge is still full of food I can't eat. Paul seems to be ok on the eating front but at the moment I can't bare the taste of coffee, which is unlike me as I love coffee, the idea of toast turns my stomach and I can't contemplate eating any of the plum pudding, cake or cookies we made. For three days I think I existed on grapes, little oranges and yoghurt.

As I lay in bed I vaguely remember watching some television. Carols from Kings on Christmas Eve for a start. I also remember dozing, on and off, through something set in an hotel where people fell through ice on a pond and someone's ashes were used to stuff the turkey - at this point I switched off - did I actually dream that? When you are laying in bed with nothing to do you can be tempted to watch some strange programmes and I was so mad at myself for giving up on 'The Old Curiosity Shop' but I did at one point feel really ill and dizzy during it so am hoping it will be repeated - it looked good. High points? The Sittaford Mystery - a gloriously atmospheric 'Marple' and amusingly yet another strange hotel. Christmas Cooks during which poor Oz Clarke seemed to be under the influence or fighting off flu, or something. Jamie's Christmas at Home I howled as he giggled at his black pepper trick on Genaro - see I told you I was easily amused. Christmas Corrie - the 'olds' continue to delight, their observational, dry repartee worthy of Bennett or Wood - well done the script writers and well done the actors. Especially Blanche - she is priceless. I loved the Christmas dinner scenes in Roy's Rolls the comic timing of Roy's missing of Hayley's calls reminded me of the old Whitehall Farces. I really like Becky and her scenes with Blanche are great - keep them working together please! Another character who has great comic timing is Clare, not tested so much this year, but I've never forgotten her scene from last Christmas day whilst outside her front door the Platt family are having one of their usual angst ridden fall outs over David, spilling out onto the street in their frustration, she opened her door, deposited her black bag in her wheelie bin, turned to the rabble, smiled and uttered the immortal line 'Having a Nice One?' and disappeared back inside again.

Well, I can't say we've had a nice one, I just hope everyone else has. I'm off now - still a bit woozy and coughing as well as ever. I have books and magazines to read, people to phone and cats to cuddle - for some reason they don't like coughing. I may be back to normal come New Year.

Christmas Greetings

Wishing you all a joyful, peaceful Christmas.

Memories and Intentions

For the last four weeks I've been roaming all over the world with the locations on people's mail. I won't go into the technicalities of the job but suffice to say it has been very hard but interesting work. From 6a.m. in the morning the post I was dealing with came from all over. First in was usually Teeside which took me around Gateshead, Newcastle and Middlesbrough. York and North Yorkshire would join in giving me happy memories of Christmas visits to York and summer holidays on the coast around Whitby, Robin Hood's Bay and my favourite places on that coast Staithes and Saltburn. The west coast would then join in and off I would travel around Morecambe, Southport, Blackpool and Formby (again more holiday memories) and then to Liverpool and Manchester. Scotland would soon follow and my imagination was captured by some of the place names, although I've never been into Scotland further north than Edinburgh and Glasgow. I've directed mail to the Isles of Mull, Lewis, Islay and North Uist, to Glencoe and Culloden and places like Kirckaldy, Auchtermuchty, Muckle Flugga and Bridge of Don as well as Edinburgh with it's regions of Morningside and Portobello. I'd never felt any connection with Scotland leaning rather towards Wales in the knowledge that ancestors on my father's side came, way back in the 18th century, from the Forest of Dean and the Welsh borders but a few years ago I discovered that my great great great grandfather on my mother's side of the family was, according to the 1851 census, born in Fifeshire. I've since done more research and using naming patterns and family occupations I think I'm sure this ancestor was born in Dunfermline. I was particularly taken with names which I later discovered were in the Kingdom of Fife, places like Cardenden, Pittenween, St Andrews and the gloriously named Coal Town of Wemyss and Coaltown of Balgonie. So memories and intentions all in one through a computer screen and I've now decided that one day I want to visit all these Fifeshire places and see what they are really like. I hope the Christmas mail I've dealt with gets to its destination - I think the one addressed to 'No 4 Callanish' will but I'm not so sure about the one addressed to 'Robin Hood's Well, in the layby, on the A1'!!

Christmas Reading

One of the joys of Christmas Day is to curl up with a good book. After lunch is over and all the debris cleared away I like to settle down with a glass of wine and something interesting and festive to read.

This year I've chosen a couple of books, well in fact, one of them chose me. First up is 'A Victorian Winter' by Judy Stevens. Judy is a former colleague of mine and she has put together a wonderful collection of seasonal stories set in and around the town of Spalding in Lincolnshire. The book was given to me by a friend in the summer and I've been very good and saved it to read over the Festive Season.

My second choice is a ghost story. I don't normally read ghost stories but this one is written by one of my favourite authors, Susan Hill. I'm a big fan of her Simon Serrailer novels and I can honestly say that her other ghost story 'The Woman in Black' frightened me more than Peter Ackroyd's 'Hawksmoor' and that's saying something.

I also have a glossy magazine or two to leaf through so there are plenty of things to enjoy if there aren't any good films to watch on Christmas Day.

Feeling slightly Festive

By the time we'd finished work at 2pm. I was ready just to crawl into that bed and draw the curtains snugly around and go to sleep. This week has certainly taken its toll. We have one day off tomorrow and then we have to work nine days in a stretch until the work is done; then it is all systems go to get ready for Christmas. We were determined to get to the 17th century Christmas event at Ford Green Hall this afternoon and we did manage it. The rooms were newly decorated with fresh greenery, the little coffee shop was busy and the smell of oranges and cloves from the pomander making room was gloriously festive. In the main hall the table was set and the musicians, an ensemble called Forlorn Hope, were in front of the fireplace ready to entertain us with a selection of period tunes and few later seasonal ones too.

I managed to take one or two photos of the hall itself but none of the musicians. Paul has put some photos of them on his blog. In the meantime here are a few corners of the hall.

Even the spinning wheels were given a festival feel.

and the staircase too.

The hall itself is a gem in the middle of the city sprawl. It is one of the few surviving buildings of Stoke's pre-industrial past. The timber framed section was built in 1624, as a farmhouse, for Hugh Ford a wealthy yeoman farmer. The building remained with the Ford family for about 200 years. In the 18th century the brick extensions were added and in the 19th century it was turned into two cottages. It was purchased by the City Council in 1946 and is now one of the four splendid museums in the city.

Cake, Moon, Bears in a Bath and Green Teeth

I really wasn't going to make a Christmas cake this year but I had enough dried fruit left from the plum pudding to make one, all I had to buy was ground almonds and glace cherries. When I'm baking I always use the Be - Ro book. I have two copies, both quite old and torn with pages stuck together here and there, but I always find them so reliable. I remember when I was a child my Mum having a copy with a brown front cover with a family on the front. I have a square 'centenary' edition and a later blue one. I wonder what happened to the old brown one? The cake turned out rather well and is now stored away for icing later.



This morning I had to pop onto the back garden to retrieve the wheelie bin and get it ready for collection. The moon intrigued me so I decided to try to photograph it. Not a great photo but it was only about 7a.m. and still quite dark. Apparently the moon early today was a waning crescent.



Later in the morning we had to pop up into Hanley to sort out the bank problem I spoke about in a previous post. The bank admitted being at fault and all is now resolved, thank goodness. Whilst Paul dealt with that I was trying to find a star shaped cookie cutter. On my perambulations around several shops - no joy in finding one that wasn't too small - I came across these little chaps in BHS - a bath full of bears!



Then it was up to the outpatients department at the hospital for Paul's blood test where I overheard the following conversation in the seats behind me between what sounded like a little girl and her grandmother:-

Shall we go for a cup of tea when we're finished here?

Yes, and can we have some sweets as well?

No sweets today because of your teeth, anyway, you haven't brushed your teeth today.

I have!

You haven't!

How can you tell?

Because your teeth are green.

No, they're not.

No one will kiss you if your teeth are green!

I had to smile.

I'll be working from tomorrow morning through until Sunday morning 6a.m. until 2p.m. each day so may not have much time for writing until my next day off on Monday. I'm still hoping we can get to the 17th Century Christmas event I mentioned in my last post so I may report back on that next time.

Welcome December

Well, it's the first of December and although Christmassy things seem to have been around since the end of September, I've been trying not to get too distracted by it all until now. I love Christmas and all it entails but I don't like how it all begins so early that we miss out on other seasonal pleasures. I know we probably want to buy cards and start on the baking and present buying well before now but I'm sure we can do that without having 'Mary's Boy Child' and 'All I need for Christmas' blasted in our ears in supermarkets and shopping precincts from early November onwards - it takes away the magic of it all - especially for the little ones. My only preparation so far has been to make a plum pudding, to buy card blanks to start printing out our cards and stamps to post them with. I've also made a list of presents to buy and will start that next week.

We hope, if work allows, to visit the '17th century Christmas' event at Ford Green Hall next weekend and also the Mummers' play.

This time last year we spent a couple of days in York which was wonderfully festive just at the right time; here is their tree from last year - I wonder if they have the same one this year?

Another thing we usually do in early December is to visit Little Moreton Hall and listen to the festive early music played and sung by the colourful PIVA. This, more than anything else, puts me in the mood for the coming festivities although, because of work commitments we may not have time this year which is a shame because I will really miss seeing them.

I took this photo of holly at Little Moreton last year. I wonder if it will be full of berries again this year?