Lost tales

Posted on August 27, 2012 by Hannah

The journey back to Scotland from Devon is a long one so we’ve broken it with Big Dreamer’s parents in Yorkshire. Rain is pattering on the chimney cowl, echoing down the flue to where I’m sitting. As we were driving along yesterday Big Dreamer and I mused happily over the weeks we have been away. I remembered so many little titbits I had meant to tell you about but that had got lost in the flurry of activities. Here is one that made it as far as my sketchbook.

We had walked up onto a big stretch of common land near to where my parents live. The months of heavy rain showed clearly in the landscape where sandy banks had given way and big trees had lost their footing. We spotted a badger’s front door and possibly one of his back doors too. Most of the trees I recognised as oak, beech, and lots of holly. There was one tree however that was particularly prolific and I didn’t know it at all. I took a leaf home and discovered they were Sweet Chestnut trees. How wonderful!

Sweet Chestnut trees are honorary natives to Britain, originally brought here by the Romans. I was so pleased to see them because we love to eat sweet chestnuts but have always bought them from a shop. I like to make a cross in the shells with a sharp knife, boil them up, peel them, then add them to winter stews. It got me all excited about trying out chestnut-based recipes, particularly the Castagnaccio you can read about in Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall’s article here. Wouldn’t it be all the better if I had my very own wild patch of Sweet Chestnut trees to harvest from?!

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Play barn paradise

Posted on August 24, 2012 by Hannah

In my opinion you have to be completely mad or very desperate to visit a play barn on a wet day. A play barn is my universal term for children’s soft play centres, which range from a few bits of plastic-covered foam in the corner of a cafe right through to the 100 acre site we visited today. Most of the rest of the time they’re great places to go but on a wet day they are jammed full of hyper children, bedraggled parents, spilt drinks, and squashed chips.

Today we were desperate and possibly mad. Our friends have joined us in Devon and our plans for the beach had been severely curtailed by pouring rain and fiercely dark skies. I never fully knew the meaning of the phrase “climbing the walls” until I became a mother. At a loss as to what to do with an energetic nearly two-year old and Little Owl we headed to Crealy.

Crealy is a play barn on an inter-galatic scale. It is packed full of ball pools, slides, cargo nets, animals to pet, children’s entertainers and cafes. Even so it was full to the rafters of other desperate parents and their off-spring.Β  Little Owl and our friends’ little boy thought they had arrived in paradise and had a marvellous time. I got to read the paper and Big Dreamer had the ideal excuse to jump head first down every slide he could find. Not a bad turn of events.

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The call of home

Posted on August 21, 2012 by Hannah

Since I spotted the bats I’ve made it a habit to head out into the garden at dusk to see if I can catch a glimpse. Even if I don’t see them it’s lovely to sit out amongst the cooling foliage as the light seeps out of the sky. The bats weren’t about this evening but an enormous sickle moon hung low in the sky. Plants in the garden were silhouetted in dark green curling tendrils against its hazy glow. In the still evening, a car revved along the street with the stereo thumping and suddenly I became aware of a cacophany of human noises. The traffic on the main road, voices from an open window, the thrip-thrip of a helicoptor. The world seemed full of noisy people and they all felt startlingly close. Just at that moment I longed to be back on the farm in the quiet soft dark of a Scottish evening in the Borders.

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The big day

Posted on August 18, 2012 by Hannah

For me, the theme of my sister’s wedding this week was journeys. They are not 21-year olds, fresh-faced and wide-eyed. At this stage in life things have happened to them and it hasn’t always been straightforward. While things may not be straightforward in the future either, the wedding day symbolises a moment of stillness, a hinge, because from now on they’ll be facing it together…a little older and wiser.

It seems to me that few people haven’t suffered. In my previous career I was privy to such secrets and burdens. People put a brave face on things. We can easily slip into making moralistic assumptions about what motivates people but I wonder if the chief motivation for most people is the search for relief. In that vein ordinary moments can glisten. The mundane activities of daily living, doing the washing up, making a cup of tea are filled with value. They are suffused with peace and come to represent green pastures. The first round of chemo is finished, the legal action is resolved, this time the baby was born alive. It goes on. I wonder if that’s how ancient Japenese tea ceremonies started and grew to have significance. A celebration of time, community and peace. After all, surely even the act of owning a teapot is a statement of faith in the continuation of peace and stability.

Quite a serious blog post today but it’s not everyday your little sister gets married. So, for Rosie and Sam, and for many others at their wedding, I wish you may throw your hearts far into the starry sky, then, hand-in-hand, run and catch them.

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The House That Moved

Posted on August 14, 2012 by Hannah

This is a very special house. It is a 16th century merchant’s house in Exeter. In the 1960s it was in a state of dereliction after the bombing of the city during WW2 and was due to be demolished to make way for the new inner bypass. At the eleventh hour it received listed building status but the bypass still needed to be built. The solution was to put the house on rollers and move it to a new home. I’ve added a BBC archive video at the end of the post where you can see it being relocated. After this it became known as The House That Moved.

However this isn’t the only reason this is a special house. Inside this house is a very special wedding dress shop called Pirouette and inside this very special wedding dress shop there is a very special lady called Linda. Linda fitted me for my wedding dress and she has done the same for my sister. We were here today to pick up my sister’s dress ready for her wedding this week. Linda is the closest thing you’ll find to a bride’s fairy godmother anywhere around. You don’t realise it but she’s sizing you up from the moment you walk in the door. You may think you know what sort of bride you are and what sort of dress you’d like but Linda is the one that really knows. Best of all, you barely realise it’s happening. At my fitting all my concerns about frills, meringues, and being the centre of attention melted away. All that mattered was Big Dreamer and me. I came out with the simplest, most perfect dress, just right for me. And Linda has worked her magic for my sister too. I can’t wait to see the groom’s face!

 

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Bats in the evening

Posted on August 11, 2012 by Hannah

Yesterday evening we formed a conveyor belt in the lounge to put together the Order of Services for the wedding. One person folded, another inserted, another punched holes, and another tied the ribbon. It was fun to chat and laugh while we worked away. As the evening drew in we finished up and I drifted outside to the garden. Sitting on an old futon base my parents have on the patio I breathed in the evening. Across the growing dusk small dark figures flitted with flicks like pieces of cloth flipping and flapping. They were bats, out to catch insects in the evening air.

Far from all my books I resorted to the internet to see what I could find out about them. I couldn’t really make out anything about them in the evening light except that they were bats but, being the most common in the UK, it is likely the bats I saw were Pipistrelle bats. I’m looking forward to Little Owl being old enough for me to take her on a bat watching expedition. From the Bat Conservation Trust website I learned of the Greater mouse-eared bat, of which there is only one male left in the UK. For some reason it reminded me of visiting a friend in a remote part of North Wales a few years ago.

Next door to his house was a derelict stone cottage. A tree had grown up through the roof and the walls had fallen in. He told me an old lady had lived there up until fairly recently. She had cared for her elderly parents but she had been the last of her family and following her death the cottage had fallen into disrepair. He told me her story with ease but it had a huge impact on me. How sad to be the last one left, with no one who knows how to make your tea just how you like it or laugh with you about family escapades as we had done over the Order of Services. Those funny little dark creatures flicking and flitting reminded me how precious it is to be involved in a rite of passage such as a wedding. In my modern life I can often forget the significance of such moments to our ancestors whose lives were so precarious. These were moments to stick a stake in the ground, to mark a moment, and say, today, here, we’re alive and well, and life is good.

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Budleigh Salterton

Posted on August 9, 2012 by Hannah

The beach at Budleigh Salterton is at its most beautiful on a really wild winter’s day but as you can see it was pretty great today too. The water was so clear and still. My sister is in absolute fits because obviously, if it’s nice now it’ll be pouring with rain for her wedding next week. Her logic is that the weather will have used up all its sunshine quota. I did remind her of the non-stop torrential rain we’ve had for the last four months but it didn’t help.

Little Owl made me laugh by pointing out the “puffs” in the sky today, so we taught her the word “cloud”. Budleigh Salterton is a pebbley beach where pebbley means proper pebbles not stones. The pebbles at Budleigh are big, smooth, flatenned ovals that chink and chunk as you walk over them. The sort that are so pleasing to hold in your hand.

For several years my Dad has been trying to catch mackerel from the beach at Budleigh and has never caught a thing. He hears countless stories of success from his friends but to no avail for him. Last week he was even told that people were out scooping the mackerel up with buckets there were so many close to the shore. He shakes his head ruefully and sighs over the number of fish hooks he’s lost there.

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Totnes

Posted on August 7, 2012 by Hannah

Mum and I have been visiting Totnes together for as long as I can remember. It’s a girly outing we have always reserved just for ourselves but today we allowed my sister and Little Owl to come along too. Totnes is a quaint little town built on a hill in South Devon. Its buildings are all higgledy-piggledy with interesting nooks and crannies. I picked up this lovely illustrated map today to show you. It has loads of interesting nuggets of history related to the buildings along the edges. Apologies that the detail isn’t very clear on screen and I can’t see a credit for the artist. If you’d like to find out more about Totnes you can read more on the town website here.

One of the reasons my Mum and I love to go to Totnes is because of all the independent shops. Here you can find the Conker Shoe company where you can order your own made-to-measure shoes that are handmade on site. You can buy the best crumbly fudge around at Roly’s Fudge Pantry. Country Cheeses, at the bottom of the hill, is a particular favourite as they always have some interesting cheeses made in the South West. However, the holy grail for me is Paperworks, who specialise in handmade, decorative and recycled papers and stationery. I’ve lost count of the beautiful things I have bought from this shop. Never to be used mind you! Oh no! Just to be gazed at and stroked and dreamed about. One day, I think to myself, one day I might produce an illustration worthy of such paper. Today I came away with this gem; a beautiful card featuring an etching of Cromer by Suffolk artist Glynn Thomas. And no, this card will never be sent either!

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A day on the beach

Posted on August 6, 2012 by Hannah

Little Owl and I spent the day on the beach at Exmouth today. We built sandcastles, splashed in the sea, collected shells, and all the other things you should do on a beach. It was marvellous fun. As we packed up to go I noticed Little Owl’s spade was missing. Where had it gone? We hunted round but still no sign. “What have you done with your spade?” I asked Little Owl. “Sumfing,” she admitted, vaguely nodding but clearly mystified. I suspect it was diligently buried and instantly forgotten. Let’s hope it turns up at just the right moment for another child who has maybe got a bucket but no spade.

To end the day we headed to the jolliest cafe, full of bunting and seaside paraphernalia, where we ordered these cheery hot chocolates to console ourselves. Red and blue sprinkles! Little Owl was delighted, especially when they turned her tongue blue.

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Special shoes

Posted on August 2, 2012 by Hannah

I know, I know…humour me. These are my bridesmaid’s shoes, just purchased today. Okay, now you can go back to the Olympics.

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