Room with a view

I'm not sure it's right to put these on my main blog but I was playing with the view from the window at my daughter's. Just a phone shot on a wet day - something about the balance of the three vertical elements that appelaed to me - and that mill chimney in the background. 

Artistic talent

I spent a happy afternoon recently at The Hepworth, Wakefield with my daughter and two grandgirls. The gallery is very welcoming to children, providing packs of paper and pastel crayons so they can sketch and draw. The girls spent a long time happily ensconced in one of the huge window bays, sketching scenes inspired by the foaming waters of the River Calder below, as it tumbles over a weir. It was a very hot day so eventually we adjourned to the café for drinks and cake. Elodie (11) continued her sketching at the café table, producing this picture of the little flower arrangement on the table. 

I was really impressed at how observant she'd been, capturing not only the graceful arrangement but adding her own touches. The vase was white, not red for a start, but in the picture red tones in with the rusty foliage. There's a confidence, freedom and lyricism to the drawing that I really like. It's taken pride of place on my kitchen noticeboard for now but I wanted to 'immortalise' it here too. 

 

Family fun

Fun in the park after Hebden Bridge's Handmade Parade. I'm posting some photos of the parade itself on my main blog. These pictures were taken in Calder Holmes Park at the end of the parade, when we met up with family and friends. There were some food stalls and the music/rhythm carried on, with a performance by the Drum Machine collective. Down in the park it was actually quite chilly, with a keen wind, but the children were racing around with their friends and seemed mostly oblivious to the cold. 

When I see how settled and happy they are in Hebden Bridge, I am so thankful that they made the move up from London a few years ago. It's a compact town in a narrow valley and they are surrounded by a close and creative community. The girls go to a small primary school, literally just across the road from where they live. With many of their close friends living within walking distance of their house, it's a supportive and close-knit neighbourhood. They have chance to get involved in activities that are happening in the town, where there is plenty going on. I'm really grateful they have such good friends, with all the enjoyment and support that that provides.  

Not grumpy!

Just parking this here for memory's sake. I had my granddaughters for the day. They've just returned from holiday and have another couple of weeks before school restarts. We had a lovely day. We called into a huge, local garden centre that, as well as all the plants and garden stuff, has tropical fish, a few guinea pigs, two enormous tortoises and a parrot called Elvis. It also has an arcade of old penny slot machines, so we had a fun time in there. Back at mine, they drew, made bead bracelets and we went to the local playground (they call it the play park) for them to run off some steam. 

My older granddaughter is almost 11 and suddenly rather 'tween', apparently as perplexed herself, as her parents, are by sudden mood swings and outbursts of frustration. (Trying to put on lace-up shoes was a real trigger point!) Up to now, she and her sister (nearly 8) have been pretty much in step but I can see that is changing. They do still play together well but also need times apart and have times of friction. What still suits the younger one is suddenly of no interest to the older one. I can see we're all in for some fun and games! 

That said, they are both very loving and E (the older one) drew me this picture with a lovely message. She'd be surprised by how often my own grumpy cloud is in evidence... but I'm glad she doesn't see it. 

Heavenly host

I popped into Sandsend's little Victorian church, St Mary's, whilst I was on holiday. It had all these paper angels flying around the nave - rather pretty. It also had a yoga class going on and I think the instructor thought I was taking a photo of all the ladies lying on their mats! I didn't hang around!

I do find I love depictions of angels, in graveyards and in paintings: all those cute, chubby little cherubim, especially that wonderful pair in Raphael's 'Sistine Madonna' painting.  There are angels mentioned many times in the Bible, and some people believe they are here on earth as well as in heaven. I tend to think our angels don't have wings...  It is, however, somehow comforting to me to think that we may each have a guardian angel. There have been times in my life when I felt maybe there was an angel nearby watching out for me. When my daughter first left home for university, one of the ways I coped was to pray and believe that there would be an angel watching over her. I still remember the tingle I felt when I went to visit her and looked out of the window of her room. Although it was a fairly modern accommodation block, it was adjacent to a much older building with fancy carved stonework - and yes, there was a stone angel there, looking over and into her room. 

"For it is written: 'He will command his angels concerning you to guard you carefully.'" Luke 4:10

'See, I am sending an angel ahead of you to guard you along the way and to bring you to the place I have prepared.' Exodus 23:20

"And suddenly there appeared with the angel a great multitude of the heavenly host, praising God and saying:: 'Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to men on whom His favour rests!'" Luke 2:13

Patina

I took a holiday recently at St Oswald's retreat centre and community in Sleights, near Whitby. It's run by some friends of mine and is an ordered and peaceful place, with a steady rhythm of days. In the two years since taking it over, they have put a lot of care into refreshing the decor and making it a really attractive and comfortable haven. The main corridor to my room had warm brown walls (probably a Farrow and Ball heritage shade like 'Mouse's Back' or something). It's a colour I would perhaps not normally like, but somehow it looked just right. The corridor had a 'dog-leg' turn in it and, on the facing wall, this beautiful panel of carved wood was displayed, illuminated by a small picture-light. I enquired about its provenance. They told me they had found it abandoned in the garage! It had a hinge and appeared to be the lid of a chest, the door of an armoire or something similar. It was filthy and dusty so my friend had painstakingly cleaned it with a toothbrush to remove the grime and then polished it to bring out the lovely patina. 

I was much taken with this panel. I don't know how old it is, but the craftmanship that went into making it is obvious. There is usually something really attractive about old wood, whether a fine carved object like this or a rough, natural piece. If cared for, it often gets better and more beautiful with age. I wonder if the same is true of us? 

We have not been a family that have handed down many treasures through the generations. Truthfully, most of my ancestors were poor and would not even have had possessions worth handing on. When my great aunt died, I accepted her old drop-arm sofa, covered in an unattractive dull brown mock leather. It made a useful perch in my first apartment, until I amassed enough savings to upgrade to a more modern and functional piece that could be used as a spare bed when friends came to stay. The old sofa was snapped up (free!) by a workmate of mine, which puzzled me until I saw it in their house, reupholstered in a luxurious cherry red velvet and looking quite splendid! I also acquired a huge and heavy chest of drawers from my paternal grandparents. For many years it was the repository of most of my clothing. I can't even recall what happened to that! I suspect it too was thrown out in favour of a smart and more modern 'bedroom upgrade'. I find now, as I have grown older and perhaps a little wiser and more appreciative, that I regret losing these two family links - though I doubt that the requisite gene for valuing and holding on to family heirlooms has appeared or been passed on in the family. Perhaps, like shopping in charity shops, it is something that you either have to be poorer and need to do, or somewhat richer so that it becomes something quirky and valued, with the cachet of sustainability.