things my dad left

A scored ceiling tile that can never be disguised with paint. When I lay in the bath at my mum's house my eyes are always drawn to a particular spot on the ceiling. The tiles show my dad's thinking process and learning as he stuck them to the ceilings curve. The tile by the wall is scored deeply with a knife to bend along the curve, the next one is scored lightly and the next pressed into place with no scoring. The third looks best. If it was me I would have taken off the first two tiles and reapplied them, not my dad, he just kept going. In fact, he didn't keep going and the ceiling remained unfinished years before his death and I completed the job much later. My own learning still shows too as a couple of the tiles are cut too big and bow downwards. On reflection this may have been the only 'project' my dad and I worked on (unknowingly) together, a conversation in polystyrene tiles, he began and I finished.

A pear tree. 

An apple tree, an Epicure - very tasty.

A slab path and patio and brick planters for flowers. 

the past in the present

From the age of 4 I was brought up in an estate in Loughton, Essex. It's a green and leafy place built after WWII with solid council houses. My bedroom window framed the edge of Epping Forest, a mostly oak boundary that runs along the end of Pyrles Lane. At night the piercing cries of foxes and hotting of owls can be heard, in daytime cooing wood pigeons and traffic replace the night creatures. I remember looking out of this window during the Great Storm of 1987 and seeing trees bowed and felled by the wind, and to this day remember the trees that are missing from this view.

Yesterday I went out for a walk, tracing most of my old route to primary school, then beyond to Debden Broadway. A series of memories floated into my head as I walked:

Betty and Bill.

Street parties on Cleland Path.

A friends mum who would bite their dog if it bit her.

The same friend singing Police and Thieves and claiming she made it up on the spot, only years later did I discover her lie.

The now demolished wall that we used to balance on outside St Gabriel's Church.

My little sister being hit by a car outside St Gabriel's Church.

The once open land with a marvellous old oak that I loved, still there but behind fences, deadly nightshade grew near it.

My primary school where I was most happy in education, its once huge open field now covered in houses. The bird that flew into our classroom window, sat dazed for a moment and then flew away.

The eccentrically decorated house with a hand painted sign outside declaring, 'Beware of the tadpole'. I liked it but the neighbours weren't so keen.

Angela and Barry who treated me like a daughter and gave me so much during my teenage years (and beyond).

Debden's pie and mash shop, unchanged through the decades.

Where Woolworths used to be.

Sprays the bakers, sold out of my favourite Bath bun.

pins and needles

In January 2013 I extended an invitation on Facebook: the first five people to respond to my post would get a handmade gift at some point during the year. They in turn had to offer this to their own friends and spread the handmade kindness. Two people responded and I knitted a hat for one friend and have just finished these lavender cushions for a family of four. Was pleased to get them created as I kept pushing back making as other commitments took priority. 

It was soothing to spend time in the studio, breathing in the lavender and making on autopilot. While working I used my trusty pin cushion and my thoughts turned to the past and my girl self. There was an open day at the school I was to attend and my mum gave me 10p to spend. This was a special moment as it was my first self defined purchase, the hall was busy with items displayed on tables and I chose a burgundy corduroy pin cushion with pins pushed into it in a neat square. This pin cushion is now almost 40 years old, I've used it throughout my life and studies, it's a little threadbare in the middle, I've re-stuffed it once and it is still going strong...

I marvel that 5 year old me selected a pin cushion, I'm sure sweeties were for sale! And I marvel that some children do have an inkling about what they want to do before stepping into the education system. Stepping out of the school system was the best thing I ever did, but that is another story.