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Sketch of Llansteffan by Hannah Foley. All rights reserved (www.owlingabout.co.uk).

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We’re home from our holidays well-rested, well-fed, and generally restored. Here are some of my sketches from our time away. We had gorgeous weather and so spent a fair bit of time on the beach. A beach is one of the natural habitats of Little Owl. Her shoes and socks are off before her feet even hit the sand. Not so for Finch. You think sand in your sandwiches is bad? Sand in your nappy isn’t much fun either. Neither is sand in your ears, particularly when you don’t yet know you have ears. He took it all in his stride though, even being left to turn into a small sand dune by his neglectful parents. While we played a game of frisbee with Little Owl we hadn’t noticed a slight breeze picking up. Slowly, kicking around on the picnic blanket, Finch became coated in a significant layer of sand. We wondered if we’d left him there long enough some maram grass might have taken up residence too.

Our beach trips gave Big Dreamer opportunity to engage in some serious engineering projects under the pretence of ‘playing’ with Little Owl. To call them ‘sandcastles’ would be a serious injustice. One ‘sandcastle’ took the form of a volcano, through which Little Owl could pour buckets of water that then flowed out to fill a moat. Another was more a series of ‘sandcastles’ that wouldn’t have looked out of place on the set of Lord of the Rings, and which dammed a small stream creating two pools for Little Owl to paddle in. Oh yes, Big Dreamer’s quite a high achiever when he puts his mind to it.

Another highlight of our holiday was getting to catch quite a bit of Wimbledon. I don’t think Little Owl has ever watched much tennis but she really got into it. We were amused that she kept wanting to know if each tennis player had a big sister. The addition of Finch to our family has obviously had a significant impact on her attitude to herself but how funny that it should show itself then and in that way. I have no idea if Novak Djokovic has a sister but I bet he wouldn’t say no to Little Owl taking on an honorary role if he should ever meet her.

Sketch of a baby in the bath by Hannah Foley. All rights reserved (www.owlingabout.co.uk).

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Holidays

Editorial illustration on bereavement by Hannah Foley. All rights reserved (www.owlingabout.co.uk).We’re off on our holidays to Wales tomorrow. As always with a small baby, we’re taking half the house. This is compensated for by my wardrobe, which is severely depleted by virtue of the fact that I can only get into two outfits! In my mind this is our first proper holiday as a family. It’ll be just the four of us and we’re going for no other reason than to relax together – yippee! So, I’ll be back in touch in ten days, hopefully with some lovely sketches and a few amusing tales of our holiday antics. I’ll leave you with these two illustrations. They were rejects from a recent commission but I quite liked them.

Illustration by Hannah Foley. All rights reserved (www.owlingabout.co.uk).

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Fireside Tales of the Traveller Children

Fireside Tales of the Traveller Children by Duncan Williamson, Birlinn Books.Getting up in the night to feed Finch has had a number of unexpected benefits. I heard the dawn chorus one morning, bright and unearthly coming through the gently diminishing gloom and seeping between the layers of my sleep-thickened brain. Another has been reading. I get at least an hour of stillness and quiet (when Big Dreamer isn’t snoring!) to delve into a good book, and with my recent purchase of a kindle I can even read the odd tome without unbalancing my breastfeeding acrobatics too much.

A non-tome book I have not long finished is called Fireside Tales of the Traveller Children published by Birlinn. Birlinn is one of my favourite publishers. The name comes from the Old Norse word birlinn, which is a type of boat used in the Hebrides and West Highlands of Scotland in the Middle Ages. Birlinn focuses on Scottish interest books and as a result it prints original and unusual books that you wouldn’t find anywhere else. Fireside Tales of the Traveller Children is one such book. It is a collection of tales told by the Traveller storyteller Duncan Williamson, and edited by his wife, the scholar Linda Williamson.

These are essentially the ‘fairytales’ of a particular community and as all such fairytales should, they make me shiver as much as they delight, especially the burkers (body-snatchers!). In the preface Duncan Williamson talks about the purpose of telling stories to children for the Travelling people. He says that they help us “to understand what is in store for us in the future, telling us how to live in the world as natural human beings – not to be greedy, not to be foolish, daft or selfish.” He laments that modern-day Travelling people now live in motor homes and watch television, which he believes has led to a decline in storytelling amongst them. He tells of his own life as a traveller in the early part of the last century. It goes to show how ill-informed I am about the Travelling community that I was surprised to read Williamson describe how the Travelling people walked everywhere with all their worldly belongings on their backs. Not then the brightly coloured caravans I stereotypically picture them in. When they found a suitable campsite they pitched tents and were often welcomed into rural communities because of their great skill at working tin. I found his description of their lives enthralling.

For an insight into the modern day Travelling community from a younger generation I would recommend the work of illustrator Mitch Miller, who himself comes from the Scottish Travelling people. He was briefly one of my lecturers at Edinburgh College of Art and last year won an Association of Illustrators award for his dialectograms depicting the Travelling community in Glasgow. You can read more about his dialectograms here and read about his award here. I thought he brought real humanity to the project and to a group who aren’t regularly portrayed with much humanity in the media. And of course, Traveller as University Lecturer isn’t a headline you often hear in the Press either.

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Queen’s Baton Relay

Illustration of a little girl's trainers by Hannah Foley. All rights reserved (www.owlingabout.co.uk)In the nature reserve the cygnets have hatched, grey fluffy bundles with outlandish legs. Today they had taken up residence in the middle of one of the paths, watched over territorially by their parents. We escorted a bereft little boy who had got separated from his mum and brother, past them. Along the boggy watercourses yellow irises stand like an army of strange invaders standing to attention and victoriously bedecked in floral wreaths. They are received by crowds of cheering insects who fill the air with their satisfied hum. We don’t stand still for too long for fear of midgies. The weather is hot and muggy after some intense rain showers…perfect weather for midgies.

This afternoon we saw the Queen’s Baton being passed along en route to the Glasgow Commonwealth games. I’m unsure what Little Owl thought of proceedings. I think she’d secretly hoped to see the Queen herself doing the relay.

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British Pathe

Still from British Pathe film about Stanley TurnerIt was with great surprise and delight that we were alerted to a film clip by British Pathe. They’ve been releasing loads of archive films and who should turn up as the subject of one but my Granddad! The picture here is a still from the clip. You can view the whole thing here.

The family story goes that my Granddad moved to New York where he was working as a florist and market gardener when he managed to blind himself with a penknife. To this day my mum has a terrible fear of anyone poking themselves in the eye. In fact, to the point that she gave Little Owl one of those magnetic fishing games and almost immediately took it back off her because she thought the fishing rod held just such a danger!

Anyway, Granddad was treated at Moorfields Eye Hospital in London, where although unable to see her, he fell in love with one of his nurses (my nan). Later they moved to Salisbury where Nan worked as a nurse in the Infirmary and Granddad was a patient, later getting a job operating the hospital telephone switchboard. Apparently he was a real character. He used to run the hospital sweepstake and once forgot to put it on, except that this time the horse won! Nan had to go all over town quietly selling things to pay everyone their winnings.

My Granddad died before I was born. I have a few sheets of braille that had been used to line drawers and a pack of braille playing cards but just remnants of a shadow really. In the film you can see Granddad, now with a bit of sight, with my Dad and my Uncle Mike. In the film Dad is aged just 3 but this year he will be celebrating a significant birthday (you can work it out from the date on the film but I’m not telling!). So, happy birthday Dad and thanks British Pathe for letting me meet my Granddad.

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Empire Biscuits

Illustration of an Empire Biscuit by Hannah Foley. All rights reserved (www.owlingabout.co.uk).This weekend we went along to the British Pipe Band Championships. Pipe bands are mostly found in Scotland but there are lots in other places with celtic connections. A band consists of the pipers (on bagpipes) and then the drummers on several different sorts of drums, best of all being the big bass drum. I love seeing a pipe band in full swing, all decked out in their finery and playing a stirring tune. I have been known to well up at the sight. I have been royally teased for this as some people feel bagpipes should bring on tears for a different reason – heathens! There were 140 pipe bands there on saturday, amounting to over 4000 pipers and drummers! It was a super afternoon. Little Owl had a good old boogie to a couple of reels and, oblivious to it all, Finch slept through the whole trip.

Another peculiarly Scottish thing I have developed a mini obsession with is the Empire Biscuit. I hadn’t ever seen one of these before moving to Scotland and if you haven’t met one either I’ve drawn one for you here. An Empire Biscuit is two rounds of shortbread sandwiched together with jam, iced, and topped with a glace cherry or jelly sweet. They go beautifully with a cup of tea. I’ve tried to find out why they’re so particularly Scottish and haven’t been able to find out much. Apparently they were called German biscuits prior to World War 1 but the name was changed out of patriotic sentiment. Anyone with any information let me know and in the mean time do try one!

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Nappy accident

Illustration of a little girl's trainers by Hannah Foley. All rights reserved (www.owlingabout.co.uk).An awful thing happened to Little Owl this week. I was changing Finch’s nappy in the lounge and she came running in to help. In her enthusiastic eagerness she didn’t look where she was stepping and put her foot right in the middle of the dirty nappy I’d just taken off him. She had tights on so didn’t register what had happened at first but when she did she was utterly horrified. She alternated between loud wailing, shouts of “that’s disgusting”, and silent but melodramatically violent retching. Poor Little Owl. She’s been a little more reticent about helping since then.

It’s been an eventful week in the life of Little Owl because she also had her first visit to her new school. She just went for an hour to meet the teachers and be introduced to her year 6 buddy. Finch and I dropped her off at the school reception. She merrily joined the line of children following the head teacher down a brightly decorated corridor while I turned away with a little sad feeling in the pit of my tummy. Obviously she will love being at school and she can’t stop talking about how much she wants to learn to read but I’m going to miss her terribly.

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Signs of the season

A drawing of a little girl's shoes by Hannah Foley. All rights reserved (www.owlingabout.co.uk)Over the road, over the train line, and over the golf course there is a nature reserve with a lovely flat path going through it, perfect for Little Owl and her bike. The trees are full of catkins, like big furry caterpillars. In the boggy parts there are marsh marigolds and everywhere there are the early shoots of rosebay willow herb. On a reed-filled patch of water a swan sits on its nest, a giant construction of sticks and twigs. Its mate is never far away, circling protectively. Swifts fly low over the water, dipping and darting all over the place. Little Owl giggles as one almost clips her curls. We throw our heads well back, watching white gulls riding the thermals against the bright blue sky.

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A new patch

A little girl's slippers by Hannah Foley. All rights reserved (www.owlingabout.co.uk)Over the last few weeks Little Owl (now with Finch too) and I have been getting to know our new patch. We hot-footed it to a nearby garden centre to stock up the bird feeders and gradually the locals have been finding out that we’re here. It started with a very cheeky magpie but we’ve also had visits from starlings, sparrows, robins and a jackdaw with a twig in his beak. A blackbird is nesting under the eave of a neighbour’s porch and we’re hoping he’ll find us soon too. A pair of blue tits looked in at the window but flew straight past the feeder and haven’t been back. Maybe they were sniffy about the company.

The front garden is mainly full of dandelions but there is a lovely tree that started off with just three buds when we first moved in and is now full. When the leaves come out we’ll be able to tell what it is. The back garden is a mossy bog. At first I felt very discouraged – what on earth could we do with this? However, it’s often full of birds gathering up the moss for their nests so maybe it’s not such a bad thing. Until we think of a brain wave solution we’ve brought lots of pots with us to fill.

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