Evocative Provocative

Evocative Provocative - not sure that even means anything but I like the onomatopoeic vibe it gives me.


Mabel has a companion who goes by the name of Dorothea. Think she's a bit more of a tease.

http://folksy.com/shops/beadsat88

Q is for butcher

Made my 6 weekly pilgrimage to 20 Gill Lane, Yeadon last Monday. Snow was threatened and a very chill wind was blowing but I still made my way over the M62, over the hills to Yorkshire in spite of the ominous forecast. This was a selfless journey as I took the hopes but no fears of my in-laws and my brother with me. I had prepared my way, making a phone call the previous week to let them know I was coming. Afterall it gave them chance to dust down the red carpet and put the bubbly on ice....sorry I'm getting carried away. I was making my bi-monthly trip to the best butchers in the land, J B Meays and Sons (Stuart). Best enough for me to make a 100 mile round trip with orders from me and my relatives.

Members of the Q Guild of Butchers - top of the trade

Brian (the B in JB) and my parents go back quite a few decades when he used to help out at Ghyll Fold ( my parent's farm) during silage time and hay making and then when Brian went into the butchery trade, my mum visited his shop ever after. Sadly my mum (88) is no longer living at the farm so I can't just pop into Brian's when visiting her.

I like it at Brian and Stuart's because there is a history between us; because I can ask them for any cut of meat and I know they will provide and give me advice; because their product is par excellence. And also just like with my milkman I can have a nice chat and put the world to rights. Of course Brian, a proud Yorkshireman, is very rude to me about living over the border in Lancashire, with much banter back and forth about passport control at Junction 21 on the M62 (the rough border between the two counties) and how life must be grim over Pennines but I can hold my own.

So with boot weighted down with beef, pork, lamb and very excellent burgers (guaranteed no horses neighing in the background here) I said my goodbyes til the next time.

PS I tell Brian it's only him I come to see but then I pop off to see my best friend up the road for coffee and cake - don't tell him.

Angels at our table

We have quite a few angels at 88. I am not referring to our two children....rarely does angelic seem to fully sum them up.....perhaps when they are asleep. And don't worry I don't see auras around people. No I refer to the little angel above my son's bed and the little angel above my daughter's. They are there to watch over them. How they are supposed to do that I don't quite know but they comfort me. Little glass representations of what we think little angels look like. Two good luck charms for my children. I guess they are the physical equivalent of 'touching wood' for me and believe me I touch wood a lot....usually my head.

I like angels. I like the look of them. Perhaps it stems from appearing in my primary school's nativity play. It was every girl's ambition in my school to be an angel. You had to stand on chairs at the back and wear beautiful white silky dresses and tinsel in your hair. As I recall I was a little disappointed with the dresses close-up. From afar they looked absolutely gorgeous but up close were just cheap silky sacks tied in at the waist with tinsel. Anyway you got to open your arms and lord it over Mary and Joseph...plus you got to see your mum in the audience really clearly.

 

The little miniature angels hanging in the house thing all started one Christmas when I bought my mum a little red angel as a decoration. She put it up in the kitchen and never took it down. I came to think of it watching over her and her home. Every time I visited I would just clock this pinky talisman in the corner of my eye. It became my own version of the ravens and Tower of London legend. You remember something about when the ravens leave, the kingdom will fall. Well, the angel is now in my own house....touch wood.

 

Handmade Histories 4 : crocheted bag

Crocheted Bag (Fruitique: Joy)

Crocheted bag at 88 before its long trip to China

This isn't so much a history of what happened to a Fruitique craft after it was bought but more why it was bought in the first place. My husband had been in China with work for four weeks and had been made to feel very welcome by the engineer out there and Mrs W, the company's sales rep. She and her daughter had taken him sightseeing and shopping (I have to say I benefited royally from these retail trips).

My husband was going back to Beijing to finish his work there and I wanted to send something back with him for Mrs W as a thank you. Kind of one woman to another woman kind of thing.

I didn't have a long time to find the perfect gift. I went to a very famous British store to have a look round. I thought perhaps there may be something that sang out 'This is a perfect British gift from a quintessential British store for someone abroad whom you have never met'. Of course I didn't find anything. It wasn't until I started looking in more detail at the wares in the store that I realised they all had the same thing written underneath or sewn in the label: 'Made in China'. A laugh out moment for me. I believe the Chinese equivalent of sending coals to Newcastle.

I then had my Eureka moment. You probably could have told me this two paragraphs ago - send a Fruitique craft - hand made in Britain, a quality object and beautiful. Also travels well in a suitcase. A crocheted bag was ordered. Job done.

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