Too grumpy by far

I seem to be in ‘grumpy old woman’ mode today. Don’t know why because it is lovely outside. The sun is shining, the birds are singing, the newts are basking and the tadpoles wriggling around in the pond, the washing is drying on the line, the lawn is freshly cut and the cats are snoozing in various parts of the garden (one on the seat, one under the heather and one under the gooseberry bushes). Therefore my unease must stem from my walk down into town, not just that but from my visit to the supermarket. Yes, that is where the answer lies. So in my best ‘grumpy’ voice, here we go:- Why do people crowd you at the checkouts? It is very rude. It is usually a couple working a pincer movement on you. She unloads pushing you forward all the time with the trolley in your back, he barges past you and lurks in the window area. When the person being served in front of you, to whom you are giving enough space to carry out their monetary transactions, moves away from the till, you move down to start packing your bags, after about four items have entered your bag the man moves forward and starts to collect and open carrier bags and then stands there watching every item you place in your bag and if you hesitate for a split second over where to place items in your bag, he sort of tuts. You then move back to punch in your pin number but the woman is in the way with the trolley and really resents having to move back an inch or two so you can complete your transaction so she pushes through behind you glowering at you until you move your trolley away. Grr and double Grr – I felt like saying ‘Would you jump in my grave as quick?’ but it seemed rather churlish to do so. Outnumbered you see.

As I walked back home I passed a piece of graffiti on a wall ‘School is crop’ now is this:

a) A new corruption of a word by the young and does it mean something completely different?
b) A mis-spelling of ‘crap’?
c) An inability to form letters correctly?

As I passed the nearby school the little ones were out in the playground cycling around on their bikes. One child said to another ‘Get out of my way, you fool*.’ This saddened me – a very small child with a teenage attitude. I really worry for the future when these kids are not taught to consider other people’s feelings and the fact that some people may not move as quickly or as efficiently as others. This awareness used to come with age but I find increasingly that it doesn’t anymore. Hey, ho, back to the garden.

*The child did use the word 'fool' , a teenager would use something rather more explicit, I think.

And Trim came too

We had an old friend to stay with us over the Easter weekend and yesterday we drove her back to Spalding. On the way we stopped off at the small town of Donington to look at the new statue of one of my heroes, Captain Matthew Flinders. When I worked in the local Museum we had a gallery dedicated to Matthew Flinders and I was privileged to be able to do research at the archives in Lincoln and read quite a few of Flinders’ letters home to his family and fiancée Ann Chapelle. The bronze statue is very attractive but much smaller than I expected and stands at the road side in the market place where his family home stood for many years. Poor Matthew, who is considered a hero in Australia, is little known in his homeland. He died at the age of 40 in 1814 just after publishing his book ‘A Voyage to Terra Australis.’ His cat Trim who sailed with him and also stayed with him during his captivity on the island of Mauritius is depicted at his feet. His grandson was the noted Egyptologist Sir William Matthew Flinders Petrie.

A Corner of the Artist's Room

I was interested to learn that there is a new book available whose plot revolves around one of my all time favourite paintings by my very favourite artist.

I first saw ‘A Corner of the Artist’s Room in Paris’ many years ago at the Graves Art Gallery in Sheffield. I fell in love with its simplicity and its tranquility. It is has a stark masculinity and yet, at the same time, is very feminine. I love the glow of light from the fine netted window which gives the viewer a fleeting glimpse of the outside world. I saw the painting again in 1985 at the Barbican in London as part of the exhibition of Gwen John’s work called ‘Gwen John- An Interior Life’ I still treasure the catalogue I bought then and look through it often.

The room in question is 87 Rue du Chereche-Midi, where Gwen John lived on the top floor from 1907 until 1909. It was during these years she became the model and later the lover of the sculptor Auguste Rodin.

Although the new book doesn’t get a particularly good review, I will still read it. I can’t not, can I?

Hope to Castleton

We set out early today and drove across country through Ipstones, Longnor and Tideswell to Hope. The air was clear as we traveled through the patchwork quilt of fields all lightly touched by a soft sprinkling of snow, the hills in the distance sparkling white in the sun. We arrived in Hope and after parking we crossed the road to have coffee at Woodbine Cottage where we mingled with other sturdy booted, wooly hatted walkers sitting around the warm log fire the air redolent with the smell of coffee and wood smoke. Suitably refreshed we wondered down past the church, over the river and took the public footpath to Castleton. The path was quite muddy in places and the wind almost took our breath away as we gazed at the ruins of Peveril Castle in the distance on the hillside above the town. Each field was dotted with sheep and suckling lambs who gazed nervously at us as we struggled to climb the stiles without slipping and landing in the quagmires below.



Castleton was quiet – quieter than at Christmas – when the town buzzes with folks viewing the lights. We looked in one or two shops and the new heritage centre which was very interesting. We were wondering about the walk up to the castle but just as we stepped outside again the sun disappeared and the rain began to come down. We decided then to go back another time to visit the castle. As we came out of the bookshop the sun came out again so we walked back to Hope and drove home calling into the large bookshop at Brierlow Bar where I couldn’t resist buying a couple of books – ‘Letters from the Fens’ by Edward Storey and ‘The Waves’ by Virginia Woolf – the cost for both just £4.98. I love days like today.

Cork Cutters and Ferrule Makers

I was searching through a box of old photographs and family papers when I found a very old card signed by my great-grandmother. Now this was one line of my family tree that I hadn’t researched as much as the others. It being my father’s mother’s side of the family on her mother’s side – try to work that one out after a glass of sherry. I knew that Sarah Ann or Sally, as she was known, had, according to the 1881 census, come from Birmingham with her brother Robert into Derbyshire, presumably for work, and from the parish records that they had both married and stayed there. I knew their father’s name was also Robert (deceased at the time of their marriages in 1875.) My sister who has a subscription to Ancestry was able to find the family for me on the 1851, 1861 and 1871 census returns and how fascinating and moving it turned out to be.

In 1861 the family was living in a courtyard in the St Martin’s District of Birmingham. That is, of course the Bull Ring area, as the church there is St Martin’s. They lived in Court No 10 in house No 2 and Robert (senior) worked as a Gun Implement Maker, his wife Mary Ann worked as a Brace Stitcher (whatever that is) son John, age 12, as a Cork Cutter and son Robert, age 10, as an Umbrella Ferrule Maker. Sarah was five and there was a younger brother Joseph aged 4. By 1871 Robert (senior) and Mary Ann had died (only in their forties) and John and Robert (junior) are lodging together in St Martin’s. Sarah Ann is in domestic service with an architect in the Lady Wood area of Birmingham. Within 4 years they are living in Derbyshire and settling down there - I'd love to know how this came about. At the end of 2004 we visited the Back to Backs in Birmingham, little knowing then that I was looking at the type of houses in the very same area where my ancestors would have lived and worked. A very salutary lesson, indeed.

Spring at Last

Looks like spring has arrived at last. The daffodils are in flower, the collard doves are billing and cooing and we have frog spawn in the pond. As I was walking back from replenishing the bird feeders in the plum tree I noticed the frog spawn and went to take a closer look; at this point the whole of the surface of the pond seemed to move - it was the newts basking in the watery sunshine and looking forward, no doubt, to feasting on tiny tadpoles when they eventually emerge from their little bubbles.

Ginger-ish

Overheard earlier today as I walked to the local shop. Two small boys chatting on the pavement whilst playing football

1st Boy - she isn’t ginger

2nd Boy - she is, well ginger-ish

1st boy - she’s strawberry blond

2nd boy - she isn’t blond, she’s ginger-ish

1st boy - she isn’t ginger

2nd boy - not ginger, I said ginger-ish

The pretty tabby kitten sitting on the wall watching them play gave me a knowing look.

One Year On

Well, I started this Blog a year ago today and it seems I wrote about Dab Chicks at Cromford Canal. Perhaps we should go back and look at them again but given that the weather is much colder this year than last they probably aren’t up to their courting rituals and amusing antics yet; is everything later this year? I think the blackbirds are nesting in our front hedge and today, when we walked around the lake at Trentham the heronry was buzzing; with the birds landing and taking off like planes at Manchester airport. The deer were clustered together as well; all the hinds around one protectively dominant, antlered stag. I’ve just downloaded the Springwatch details from the BBC web site. I haven’t seen any frog spawn in our pond yet this year; just one poor dead frog on the lawn, its back legs sheared off. P said it looked like it had been dropped from a heron’s beak because if one of the cats had taken it its injuries wouldn’t have been so clean cut. Funnily enough I saw a heron land near our pond the other day, peer rather dismissively into it – why do I always see herons wearing a pince-nez? – register that there were no fish and then take off, rather awkwardly, legs dangling, up and away over the shed and the trees behind, wings flapping like mad – hope it had an easier landing at its next port of call..

A Bad Decision

I visited the Elan Valley twice last year. Once with friends on our annual ‘get-together’ and the second time with P on our way further into mid-wales and the coast. It is a strange and beautiful place, even though man made, and summons up those same feelings as when, for example, you visit Ladybower in Derbyshire, or Rutland Water in Rutland because you are always aware of what lies beneath. You can imagine the anguish felt by the people whose homes were destroyed and the sheer hard labour of those who built the dams. For over 100 years the Elan Valley has supplied Birmingham with water at great cost to themselves. Lives, livelihoods and treasured family homes were lost. That is why I think it was so short sighted of Birmingham Council to say no when Community Arts Rhayader And District asked for a donation towards the cost of the £550,000 museum. There is a huge link between the two areas and when I watched the local news yesterday many of the people spoken to in the streets of Birmingham felt that the Council should have made a donation. I think that they have underestimated how their citizens feel about this. I hope they change their minds.

Favourite Book

As it is World Book Day today I thought I would mention one of my all time favourite books J L Carr’s ‘A Month in the Country’. It is set a few years after WW1 and is a bitter-sweet story of love, loss and discovery. There are multiple layers to the meaning of the book and the stories of the wonderful characters interweave throughout its pages. It makes me laugh, it makes me smile, it makes me cry. A truly glorious book that you can read again and again.

Arousing Strong Feelings

I can’t be the only person that hasn’t read any Dan Brown novels and in particular 'The Da Vinci Code', in fact, I know I’m not because I’ve spoken to several people who haven’t read him either. Of the people I’ve spoken to who have read the book they seem to be split into two very distinct camps, those that loved it; and those that hated it. In fact, not just hated it but, indeed, the very mention of either the book or the author seems to make then spit out very colourful and venomous expletives, the like of which I rarely hear except when directed towards mass murderers, child molesters or football thugs. However, the book that has been mentioned in the alleged plagiarism case, I seem to think I have read, many years ago when it was considered 'cool' and the right book to be seen with on a train - or a plane. It was passed round my place of work at the time and we all read it in turn. Well, if it wasn’t that one is was certainly one about the Knights Templar and the Holy Grail. I can't remember anything about it now though. So, I have to make the decision to read or not to read? Perhaps I'll just go and see the film.

Did you all remember to say 'white rabbits' this morning? For once I did remember.

Not too much to ask, is it?

Well, the ongoing saga with Homebase is still – well – ongoing. We have had two more attempts at getting two cream drawer covers with no success. Beech was sent again – so that’s three lots of beech and last week an entirely different kitchen unit was sent. They still can’t order just the drawer fronts (the computer system won’t allow it) so each time they have to send the whole unit. Bizarre. We have chosen the tiles though and half of them are on the walls. Looking good so far.

Handles and History

Up early, out of the house and on our way to Ikea by 8.30a.m. to buy handles for the kitchen doors and drawers. We have a choice of three stores all around an hour’s drive from us but as two of them, Warrington and Wednesbury, involve the M6, we always go to the Nottingham one which is actually near Kimberley and Awsworth.* We managed to get some super handles and inserts for the cutlery drawers all for about £28. By this evening they had been fitted and it is now – except for the two lots of missing drawers - complete. Next job is choosing and fixing the tiles. Looking forward to having a day off tomorrow and going for a long walk.

* my maternal grandfather was born in Awsworth in 1884 and his grandparents were married in the church there in 1858 so I always feel I'm on 'familiar' ground - I wonder what they would have made of Ikea?

Going round in Circles

Whilst fitting together the final unit P found that the drawer runners didn’t fit the drawers. He rang Homebase yet again and of course, you know what’s next, he’d found another error in their system. It turns out that quite a few drawer units have gone out with the wrong runners because one of the packers at the factory packed a whole load of, and I quote, “wrong runners in the right boxes” – so we have now been given a ‘fast-track’ replacement order of a ‘conversion kit’ as well as the ‘buddy’ order for a cream oven housing unit. At least now we have a working sink and hob. As the housing for both beech and cream is the same this has now been assembled and the oven wired up. We really just need two cream drawer fronts, but these cannot be ordered on their own, because the computer will not deal with this, so we have to be sent a whole new unit, the third in a week, just to get two bl***y drawer fronts.

Three steps foreward and one back

The mini-skip arrived nice and early and we completely filled it with the sorry remains of the old kitchen. The gas man came to take out the old gas pipe, the water board man came to fix the leaking stop tap and the new cooker housing was delivered – except it was beech again, not cream. So now we have two beech units and no cream unit. Back to square one. Oh deep joy.

An Oath or Two

Up bright and early to drive over to Chesterfield to pick up my sister and make our appointment at the Sheffield probate office at 11.30a.m. on time. We drove through Ashbourne and Matlock in brilliant sunshine and guess who forgot to take her new sun-glasses with her. Still the old ones managed even though I couldn’t see very well in them. Luckily no hold ups in Matlock. It only takes one delivery van to park on the main road to hold the traffic up halfway back to Matlock Bath. When we arrived at the Law Courts (after trying three times to find the entrance to the car park) we had to have our bags searched and step through one of those detector things. The man in front of me had to empty his pockets into a box to be searched and still managed to set the detector off a couple of times. We only had to wait a little time and then we had to read through the application for probate and swear an oath clutching our new testaments. It should only take about 10 days to be granted and then we can proceed with the selling of Dad’s shares and acting upon his wishes in distributing what is left of his savings. My sister and I are the executors and the benefactors of his will so it is quite straight forward.

Problems, Problems

We’ve hit our first problem almost straight away. When we ordered the kitchen the oven housing came up on the computer as beech even though we had ordered cream. The assistant checked with the manager. “It’s the right code for cream” he assured “when it arrives it will be cream” Was it heck. We called the warehouse and they said not their problem, call the shop and slammed the phone down. We called the shop and luckily the asssitant remembered us and remembered checking with the manager. After much phoning around she found out that the order codes were wrong in the sale price leaflet and that their head office hadn’t told them. So a new order was put in for a replacement which should arrive within two days.Still there are plenty of other jobs we can get on with. It’s quite tiring having to do the washing up upstairs in the bathroom and trying to manage with just the microwave. We had thought about eating out this evening but then realized it was Valentine’s Day and that probably everywhere would be booked up – so we fetched pizza and salads from Tesco. Off to Sheffield tomorrow

Oh, Yuk

Well, I was right the old units were removed and behind them were absolute horrors of old tiles, woodworm in the skirting boards which were painted bright blue; lovely with the yellow flowered wallpaper and tiles. Behind one of the units were several pieces of pottery including 1970s egg cups in red and purple with little feet and cups and saucers with a green ivy pattern. Under the sink unit was a 1979 Sunday Mirror full damp, silverfish and five pages of Britt Ekland in various stages of undress. The stench pipe housing was rotten and just fell away with the tiles so this has had to be rebuilt. The stop tap had a small leak (thank goodness we have insurance for this with the water board) and there was an old gas oven pipe which we need to get taken out and capped by the by the gas board. New tiles have been laid and the walls painted so now we can begin assembling and installing the new kitchen. I was always worried about what was behind these units and my worst fears were realised. I'm just ashamed we've lived with them for so long. At least the front bits were clean.

New Kitchen

The kitchen we ordered from Homebase after Christmas is now sitting in bubble wrap in the garage waiting to be installed. Firstly we have to rip out the old kitchen and make good the floor and walls, because whoever installed the present one put it in and then laid the floor tiles up to the base units, and if their workmanship behind these units is the same as we found behind the wall units then we are in for a lot of hard work. We took down the wall units a couple of years after we moved in to make good the walls behind. The cupboards had been mounted on the old original 1970s tiles (yellow flowers) which in turn had been laid over the wallpaper (yellow flowers) and then packed with broken tiles behind. I’ve a feeling this weekend is going to be a dusty, dirty one.

Food & Antiques

Yesterday S&R came over from Nottingham and we drove over to Leek to find a shop they wanted to visit. Period Features is on Broad Street and is a treasure chest of lovely things, we had a rummage around and a chat to the owner and then wandered across the road to explore one or two of the antique shops that the town is famous for. We then had lunch in No 64, lovely food, a bit pricey but as it was S&R’s Wedding Anniversary the next day it seemed appropriate. The restaurant itself is light and airy and the staff courteous and attentive. We all had something different off the menu but my pudding of apple sorbet with crisp apple slices was wonderful. P’s wild mushroom risotto was also delicious. Later we wandered around the town and dipped in and out of more shops and then the antiques centre which we had parked near. We chattered, meandered and generally had a wonderful time. I love days like this.