Bonfire Night

Photograph of autumn leaves by Richard Foley. All rights reserved (www.owlingabout.co.uk).
A gusty gale blew in at the back end of last week. It blew the last of the autumn leaves to the ground where they were battered into brown sludge by heavy downpours. Seagulls wheeled in the leaden skies, shouting to us that it was much worse out at sea. But by Saturday afternoon the gale had blown itself out and that evening the sun set amid a blaze of gold and pink. We had a bonfire in my mum and dad’s garden to celebrate Bonfire Night. We toasted marshmallows on sticks and wrote our names with Sparklers. In the distance we were treated to wonderful views of far-off firework displays scattered across the starry sky.

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Le Immagini della Fantasia

Le Immagini della FantasiaRegular readers here will remember that I have work in an Italian exhibition called the Le Immagini della Fantasia. The exhibition is currently touring Europe and opened for its UK leg in Edinburgh on Saturday night. It will be at Edinburgh College of Art until 18th November so do visit if you’re in the area.

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Back to school

Photograph of homemade tin can lanterns by Richard Foley. All right reserved (www.owlingabout.co.uk)Little Owl gazed sadly at her reflection in the mirror this morning. “I don’t look like myself,” she pronounced. Today is the first day of school after half term. I’ve scraped her curly blonde locks back into two plaits because nits are doing the rounds and I don’t want them here. Her insightful comment is poignant because it’s not just about her hair. We’ve had a lovely half term full of wellingtons, muddy walks, gold and copper autumn leaves, squelchy bike rides, hearty stews, steaming hot chocolate, and lantern making. She’s built a bivouac in the woods and stroked an owl. She’s made bark rubbings and hunted for bugs. Now it’s back to spellings, bells, and writing on a line. Ah, but Bonfire Night is just around the corner, always a perfect opportunity for some outdoors chaos!

PS. If you’d like to have a go at making tin can lanterns (like the ones we made above), here’s what to do. Clean and take the labels off some empty tin cans. Fill them with water and put them in the freezer. Once frozen you can use a hammer and a pointy screw driver to punch holey patterns in them. Remember to punch some holes for a wire handle. We then painted ours with white Hammerite paint. Little Owl loved being in charge of the hammer and she didn’t hit my thumbs too often (!) when I held the screwdriver for her. I’d say it’s a suitable activity for 7 year olds and up.

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Half term

Photograph of flowers by Hannah Foley. All right reserved (www.owlingabout.co.uk).If my voice sounds a little muffled it’s because it’s coming from underneath a pile of play dough, dressing-up clothes, and Lego. Normal service will resume…AFTER half term.

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Christmas Cards

Christmas cards by Hannah Foley. All rights reserved (www.owlingabout.co.uk)I usually wait until after Bonfire Night to advertise my Christmas cards but they’re back from the printers in record time and some of you have been asking, so here they are!

A pack of ten costs £7 plus postage. They are approximately A6 in size and come with a white envelope. They read Merry Christmas on the inside. Drop me an email if you’d like some to: hannah@owlingabout.co.uk.

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Aerodynamics of Biscuits

Aerodynamics of Biscuits by Clare Helen Welsh and Sophie Touliatou. Published by Maverick Books.Here’s a quick heads-up for a fantastic event happening this coming Saturday (24th October) for those in the vicinity of Drake Circus Waterstones in Plymouth. Clare Helen Welsh will be celebrating the launch of her wonderful picture book, Aerodynamics of Biscuits, with lots of fun activities from 11am. I know Clare through my writing group and she’s a fabulous author. If you can’t make it definitely check out Aerodynamics of Biscuits. It has one of those brilliant twists in it that get my kids (and me too, let’s face it!) on the edge of their seat wondering how on earth it’s going to end!

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October

Chapter title 'October' from Steve Roud's The English Year.In my seasonal reading Stephen Moss in his book Wild Hares and Hummingbirds describes the annual “house invasion” that occurs at this time of year. Moss lives in an old farmhouse with no doorstep so he often finds fledgling sparrows or robins and toads sat in the middle of his kitchen floor. Jackdaws tumble down the chimney and moths “blunder around in the shower”. In our house there was the most enormous spider curled up inside the old net curtain in the downstairs loo. Before the lean-to was put on it must have been an outside toilet, so is particularly susceptible to ‘visitors’. I ruffled the curtain but the spider didn’t move and I wondered if it was dead. It had an alarmingly red underbelly and I wasn’t sure I could take many more trips with my nose so close to that tummy. Moss says that the two most likely culprits for being huge, hairy, in your house, and a little bit terrifying, are Tegenaria domestica and Tegenaria gigantea. I’ll be honest, from pictures on-line I can’t actually tell them apart but one of them was definitely in our bathroom and when it turned out to be alive it was swiftly deposited in a cosy corner of the garage. Moss says the reason for their sudden appearance is that they are on the look out for a mate. Well, this particular specimen can go and look for a mate elsewhere.

Steve Roud is on the warpath in his book The English Year. He describes our modern propensity to give every festival pagan origins and a “supernatural aura” as “depressingly familiar”. It’s Halloween that has really got his goat. Halloween means Eve of the Hallowtide and was “a Christian festival inaugurated in the medieval period” “to commemorate all the Christian saints and martyrs.” Not at all a pagan festival of the dead then. In fact, it was originally celebrated in May. Apparently the association with the dead came around the year 1000, when the Christian church came up with the doctrine of purgatory to explain what happened “to those who died suddenly without final rites.” And even then it wasn’t very popular, only celebrated in a limited way in the North of England and Scotland. Links to the Irish winter festival of Samhain (1st November) turn out to be spurious too, as Samhain had little “religious or supernatural significance” at this time. Apparently it is all a twentieth century phenomenon, an “explosion of interest” occurring in the 70s and 80s, which can be traced back to American cultural imports whose traditions we now embrace as our own.

I find that all very interesting because surely a tradition has to start somewhere. Perhaps in a thousand years time future folklorists will be examining the origins of the ancient festival of Halloween and will date it from the release date of ET. I wonder what they will say about our society that of all the things we might have come up with for a new festival we chose witches and goblins?

 

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Carnival season

Photograph of the Devon coast in October by Hannah Foley. All right reserved (www.owlingabout.co.uk).At the weekend we bundled ourselves up in hats and scarves to see one of the local illuminated carnivals. It’s a bit of a tradition in Devon. October sees most towns host their own brightly lit procession. We have been saving up our coppers for weeks so once we’d devoured our customary fish and chips we jangled our way to a good spot on the procession route. Most of the entries have been put together as a way of raising money by local charities and interest groups. I remember freezing my socks off one year as a child, sat atop a float dressed in a pillowcase (don’t ask) in aid of my primary school.

We had a brilliant time. Finch waved a flag from the baby carrier until the late hour overwhelmed him, his flag drooped and he nodded off against Big Dreamer’s back. Little Owl loved distributing her coins, although she was very choosy about deserving recipients. She was both delighted and horrified when the local amateur dramatics society dame spotted her in the crowd and made a beeline for her. She gave him handfuls of coppers, mainly to go away I think. There was an extra little display reeling above the heads of the procession participants. A clutch of bats flicked and tipped their way across the starry sky, their underbellies aglow. It must have been a bat feast up there with all the insects attracted by the bright lights of the procession.

If you happen to be down this way the Bridgwater Carnival is the one that has the finest reputation. I’ve never been but it is apparently very good. They have photos on their website dating back to 1901. On a different tack here is an early morning seaside photo from yesterday to start your day off.

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Autumn images

Sketch of a nervous little hippo in swimming gear by Hannah Foley. All rights reserved (www.owlingabout.co.uk).I have some lovely autumn images lingering in my mind as I settle down to work this morning. There was Little Owl dancing across the damp grass at the park in the near dusk on our way home from swimming. In that sort of light some colours grow luminous. Her bright pink cat umbrella and her spotty mac shone out as she twirled, and the reds and oranges of the autumn leaves glowed intensely against the murky greens and browns of the evening.

There was an early morning walk by the river with Finch where everything was perfectly still and gilded in golden first light. The passenger ferry lay silent at anchor and a swan slid elegantly past, the water rippling gently out behind it. Finch lay back in his pushchair with a contented sigh, mesmerised by the illuminated clouds our breath made against the sky.

There was also a hidden door in an old crumbling wall that opened out onto a jumbly orchard where the grass grew up to our knees and washing billowed gently on a line strung between ancient boughs. Very kindly we were allowed to help ourselves to as many eaters and cookers as we could carry. The trees were so old and gnarled that branches looped down to just the right height for Finch and Little Owl to have a go at picking some themselves. Opinions on the perfect apple vary but for me you can keep all your sweet fluffy varieties. I like my apples crisp and sour (up to a point) and these were spot on. We made an apple crumble with the cookers and what was left of the eaters we turned into apple rings. I left them a bit too long in the oven so they were too dry for the tastes of Finch and Little Owl. Finch’s catch phrase at the moment is “uh-oh” and he said “uh-oh” about these. Big Dreamer gladly took them off to work to sit in his office drawer for a tasty reminder of autumn forays.

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Lines and linings

Lining PaperIt’s been a week of chilly mornings, giving way to glorious golden September days. We’ve been doing lots of sorting. I’ve been potting on numerous perennial seedlings and lining drawers with this lovely paper. It’s a bit of an old-fashioned thing to do I know, but it’s not without practical merit. If you have a wooden chest of drawers like us the varnish can transfer to your clothes without some good paper liners, and tights can ladder or snag on rough bits of wood. And it looks really nice!

We’ve also been working hard on our washing line. I love washing lines. I love those old pictures you see of washing lines strung between houses across streets, bright white sheets hanging like sails in the breeze. Our washing line is one of those really tall old-fashioned ones. It has two lines on it, one that hoists nearly as high as the top of the ash tree and the other lower down, which is a stationary line. I thought it was wonderful, until that is, I tried to raise the upper line with a full load of wet washing on it. The problem isn’t only that I’m a bit weak and pathetic but also that I can only pull down on the rope with one hand because the other is holding up another rope to stop the whole lot from crashing down in the vegetable patch. I couldn’t fathom it. How on earth did they used to do it?

We bought a clothes prop but that didn’t help either. It just collapsed sideways and down the washing came. We wondered about buying a ratchet that would wind the line up and down but there was no way of attaching one to a round pole without some major engineering. A pulley system is what we need, declared Big Dreamer. We duly purchased one and Big Dreamer climbed onto the garage roof to install it. At first it made no difference, even when he rigged up the other rope in a loop so that I didn’t have to hang on to it any more. In spite of various experiments with plastic piping it would catch on the pole, wedging firm just out of reach. At last I discovered an alternative use for the clothes prop and I use it to push the loop up to the top. Phew, what a mission! Worth it for all that lovely line-dry washing though.

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