Cat life

 Just parking this here. I had it on Facebook but I’m not sure I saved it anywhere else. It happened when E was at my house, drawing. She decided (completely her own idea) to draw my toy cat. She was four at the time. I thought it a very observant study. 

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. 

 

Given with love

These are two very precious objects to me. One is a (by now) threadbare silk cushion, dark grey, in a damask design. My daughter gave it to me, for my birthday or maybe at Christmas, when we had not lived in this house for very long and I was busy trying to make it into a comfortable and reasonably stylish home for us both. She was still at school, with limited funds of her own. I believe she bought it in Salts Mill. I was thrilled with it, both because she had taken the initiative to buy it for me and because it was beautiful and exactly complemented my bedroom decor. It has had pride of place on my bed ever since, for more than twenty years. Every time I’ve picked it up I have thought of my darling girl with so much love. It has kept her close. The cushion cover has, sadly, grown more and more fragile, as light (I suppose) has weakened its silk fibres. I’ve decided the time has come to throw it away, as the gaping tears can no longer be hidden or repaired. No matter, really, as what it represents is hidden away in my heart for all time, like a tiny, warm flame of light and love. I did, however, want to preserve at least some record of the cushion, so a photograph and a blog post will keep the memory alive. 

The second object in my picture is a soft, grey cat. It may be ‘Mog’, beloved of Judith Kerr’s children’s stories, or maybe just a similar lookalike. It has been in my possession for a much shorter time, and also habitually sits on my bed. It belonged originally to my youngest granddaughter, who brought it with her on one of the first visits she made here after the long initial period of Covid lockdown, when everything was feeling strange and discomforting, and we’d been kept apart as a family just when we’d have wanted to be together. M gave it to me as soon as she walked in my door, but I thought little of the gesture really, as she’s a child who always carries some soft toy or other - lately a sloth with long limbs but often a puppy dog or a small teddy. She has a huge collection of cuddly comforters. I thought it was her ‘animal of the day’. When time came for them to leave, I offered it back to her but she told me: ‘That’s for you, Gwan, to keep.’ My heart nearly burst. Here was my lovely granddaughter, for whom stuffed toys are the highest form of currency. She, barely seven at the time and yet as intuitively empathic as anyone I know, realised I might be feeling isolated and this was her remedy. Happily, it has worked. Every time I see it I feel a little warm glow. When I have my daily ten minutes quiet time (while my warm eye mask works its magic on my dry eyes!) I give it a little cuddle and count my blessings. 

As I say, two precious objects and a great deal of love. ❤️❤️

The girl with the orange pencil

I spotted this painting some while ago in a gallery in the Piece Hall in Halifax. It's called 'The Orange Pencil' and was designed by Young and Battaglia, based on a 16th century portrait of an unknown woman by Agnolo Bronzino. It amuses me no end... Something to do with the juxtaposition of the elegant lady and her 'well, I'm me and I don't care' attitude really speaks to me. I took a photo with my phone and had it printed out and it is pinned on the noticeboard in my kitchen. My youngest granddaughter saw it and decided to recreate it. She didn't have too much difficulty, whereas I find it really tricky to hold a pencil right there. Believe me, I've tried! 😉

 

Broody!

My Facebook feed throws up all sorts of enticing things (as well as stuff that I would never be interested in - and some things where I can't even begin to imagine what they are!) Today it excelled, with a whole piece about a company closing down and getting rid of its stock of Waldorf dolls. Now, I'm sad that so many small businesses seem to be closing (and don't get me going on a political rant!) But all these dolls needing homes.... 😢 Aww. I almost ordered up the whole lot! 

I have to confess I'm a sucker for dolls and always have been. I still have two or three, that belonged either to me or to my daughter. I have of course, as an involved gran, supplied a number of dolls to both my granddaughters at various times, one of which happened to be a Waldorf doll. (They have minimal features and natural materials and are supposed to be designed so that a child can project their imagination onto them.)  Perhaps strangely, the girls never really seemed to 'take' to dolls for very long. The cuddly toys that have had lasting impact for them have always been of an animal kind - dogs, cats, even monkeys and sloths have been carted around until their fabric has worn thin. Even my daughter favoured a large stuffed Eeyore character that one of my friends made for her when she was born. I think it is still just about 'alive and kicking' in their house somewhere. 

So, no more dolls, though I was truly tempted by these adorable munchkins. (That little moppet in the blue hat, with the rabbit... 😍😍😍)

Out of the mouths of babes

When I was in my early twenties, I went to dinner at some friend's house and we ate from a delightful assortment of mismatched blue and white china. I thought it was really cool and decided that 'one day' I'd have the same. Given that we'd just been gifted a matching service of fine china as a wedding present, needless to say, I never even started a collection. Nevertheless the dream persisted in the back of my mind. Fast forward nearly fifty years to when I retired... I was idly reviewing my 'life goals' (as you do!), and I was reminded that this dream still wasn't a reality, though in the scheme of things it seemed eminently achievable. So I went off to Boundary Mills, which has a wonderful department chock full of all makes of china. I bought myself a small selection of Spode 'Blue Italian' plates and mugs and some blue and white bowls and plates from other manufacturers. Since then, I've added a few more pieces, including a rather lovely Japanese bowl. So, at last, my little private dream has come true, at least when I'm dining alone. (There isn't enough to spread around several guests.) In some small way, it gives me a great deal of pleasure. 

Or at least, it did.... My granddaughters came to visit and, now they are fairly well grown, they have graduated from the IKEA plastic dishes and plates that they used to use. So they were given food on a couple of my Spode plates. Having polished off her meal, my eldest grandgirl was studying the picture on the plate. Suddenly, she exclaimed, with horror in her voice: 'There is a picture of a man beating a woman!' Could this be true? How had I not seen this? On close inspection of the pattern, I can see exactly what she means. I had, I suppose, assumed (inasmuch as I'd ever really thought about it) that the couple were chasing the cattle or whatever the animals are that appear to have strayed into the water. Now she has put the domestic abuse scenario into my head, I can't really shake the notion off. It would be a lie to say this has completely spoiled my little, personal, long-held dream but it certainly gave it a knock! 

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. 

Pebbles

Just a little playing with an image of my pebble collection. I can't truly say why I have a pebble collection... They are stones I've picked up over the years on beaches and brought home (and yes, I know you're not really supposed to do that!) Neatly laid out on a shelf in the sitting room, the hoard is perhaps one of my favourite possessions. There is something about the smoothness of them, their diversity of colour, shape, texture, the way they fit in one's palm - and yet all within relationship to each other. I like the grading from largest to smallest. 

I know my grandgirls appreciate them, especially M. In fact, there is a poignant little story to tell here... Once when the family came over, her father produced the tiny, rounded, orange pebble from his pocket and placed it at the end of the line, saying he'd been carrying it around for ages. It fitted and looked at home there so it was left. The next time the grandgirls came, that very pebble went missing. As they were leaving, I exclaimed about it (without really thinking it through!) M bent down behind the door and then produced it, saying: 'Is this it?' So we replaced it in the line. It was only after they'd gone that I realised the likely truth: that M herself must at one time have found it (she's the kind of child that does amass pockets full of treasures) and she must have given it to her daddy to look after. Perhaps she then forgot about it. Anyway, seeing it on my shelf must have reminded her that it was her treasure, so she reclaimed it, but obviously felt a little guilty, hence the 'finding it' again when I noticed its disappearance. I felt bad afterwards for not thinking ahead, and just keeping quiet when it disappeared from the line-up. I should have realised! But, sweet girl, I do love it and treasure it, all the more so because of that incident. And one day you can claim all of them for your own collection, knowing they were precious to me. They are, as precious as the finest jewels. 

Perhaps we're all a little odd! 

There are moments in life, when the heart is so full of emotion 

That if by chance it be shaken, or into its depths like a pebble 

Drops some careless word, it overflows, and its secret, 

Spilt on the ground like water, can never be gathered together.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Thoughts...

This print by Jack Vettriano was hanging in the bedroom of the accommodation that I stayed in for a recent family wedding celebration in Berkshire. Although the wedding itself was delightful, the print was really the best bit about the accommodation! It was all a bit eccentric... cobwebs seemed to be used almost as a design feature. I'm not a huge fan of Jack Vettriano but I do like this picture. Entitled 'In thoughts of you', it is enough of an enigma to suggest a story to your own liking. I asked M (7) what she thought of it. She has been something of an art expert from an early age. She was spotted - aged about two - reading 'Art and Sexual Politics' (albeit upside down) and, even before she could talk, she communicated in sign language to tell us that she thought a modern art painting of random coloured splodges and spots was 'stars'. Her thoughts on this one were that 'the lady has just moved in to a new house. She is having a cup of tea and wondering what to do next'. Anyone who moves house wearing killer heels like those probably has staff to do the 'what next' stuff but, nevertheless, I though it a charming interpretation of the picture.