dovegreyreader scribbles

Number Forty-One...

Forty-one years ago today since the vicar handed me the piece of paper (note smug look on face and 70's page-boy hair and Juliet cap) and Bookhound stood to attention and wondering what on earth he had just let himself in for...

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Lost Words ~ Robert Macfarlane & Jackie Morris

I've been digging around in the blog cellars again...

Imagine if you will it is June 1st 2015 and Bookhound and I have spent the day at the Hay Literary Festival specifically to hear Helen Macdonald talk about H is For Hawk and Robert Macfarlane talk about Landmarks. We were on the road at 5am and we have a long drive back to the Tamar Valley but I am allowed one more sortie...

"Granted one more sniff of the Festival Book Shop, off I trotted at about 7.30pm and there he was, Robert Macfarlane with his signing queue still snaking out of the door. I watched for a while... he was talking interestedly and at length to each person and it was clear plenty of people were prepared to wait for the opportunity. Plenty too seemed to be offering suggestions about more words for the glossaries in Landmarks, laying out books in front of him with carefully marked pages, turning to each one and pointing something out while Robert looked on and listened with patient attention. In the rarified microcosm that is a literary festival this all seemed to be signalling a heightened awareness and a genuine revival of respect for these disappearing words before it is too late, and it can only be hoped that the interest and enthusiasm spreads beyond the confines. As well as taking an interest in schools' projects, Robert Macfarlane revealed that he will be collaborating on a children's book in the near future, one that brings back the words lost from this year's Oxford Junior Dictionary, words like catkin and acorn, buttercup and bluebell (replaced by blog, broadband, cut-and-paste and voice-mail.) so it is clear that he has a commendable vision for this that goes far beyond the pages of his book.

Something interesting has begun...."

Well that 'something interesting' had begun and now it bears fruit because The Lost Words by Robert Macfarlane and Jackie Morris will be published by Hamish Hamilton on October 5th and you can read more about the book's genesis from Jackie here.

Magicians the pair of them...

I could just say that and leave it there because The Lost Words  is such pure enchantment and genius of collaboration that I really don't want to spoil the magic for any of you by giving too much away, either about the spells or the pictures.

These spells deserve a little bit of mystery, anticipation and the unexpected, a big reveal; Robert's words conjuring up the 'near-lost magic' and the mood of twenty words from Acorn to Wren, whilst Jackie's illustrations wave like a wand across the pages bringing the words from near invisibility into being. The intention is to read aloud, to seek, to find and speak, to discover the things that are missing and hidden, the absence and the re-appearance, to unfold dreams and summon the lost words back into the imagination and the mind's eye. Bramble marches, conker glows, dandelion dazzles, fern flares. I sense the welcome stardust of Gerard Manley Hopkins in these pages, there is subtle assonance and alliteration, hints of in-scape and in-stress, spells that will commit to memory and it is easy to imagine little fingers seeking the words in the cascade of letters or tracing the goldfinches across the pages...

...or finding acorns and wanting to plant them because 'as kindness is to good so acorn is to wood.'

...or revisiting the forgotten beauty of conkers, their burnished glow. 

...or waiting for bluebell season with renewed anticipation to find 'the late-day light' and to step into the ocean.

When I turned the page to Jackie's double-page bluebell wood I was as startled as if I had stumbled on a real bluebell wood by chance, it is no exaggeration to say I was 'pulled down by the hue,' and 'lost in the depths' of the page. I want the colour in my mind's eye for ever, no camera can replicate Jackie's exactness.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The book will be a gift of great magnitude for any child given that it measures 15" by 11" (you'll need a whole sheet of wrapping paper) and weighs in at premature baby size. It's a book that is scaled up rather than scaled down, a joy to see these days, and I am envisaging children clutching this under their arms with looks of acute concentration on their faces.

But the children can't have all the fun because I am imagining grown-ups doing likewise.

I'll be tramping in New Zealand on launch day and I'll never get the date right anyway with the time difference, but I'll be there in spirit and I'm giving you advance warning now, time enough to plan, because seriously, make sure you are somewhere special to buy a copy of The Lost Words on October 5th. Make it a memorable Day of The Lost Words (the official launch will be on that day with a ticketed event at Foyles in London) and if you don't have a child to buy for, don't worry, buy one for yourself (in fact buy one for yourself anyway) because I can promise you won't regret it. I have been regularly nursing mine on my lap for several weeks. For children The Lost Words is an early investment in awe and wonder, a chance to know the words that are disappearing from the dictionary; for us more weathered and cynical grown-ups it is a chance to rewind the wonder-clock and be enchanted once again. Each time I pick the book up, or maybe it picks me up, I'm not sure because I often abandon what I am doing and read some spells, and each time I see new things. Children will see even more. And each time I have a new favourite...

Maybe it's 'Huge-hinged heron'...

or perhaps it's the lark whose song is 'torrenting on.'

For now it is 'heather' because Dartmoor is awash with it at the moment...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

and here the last few lines (note how the upper case letters have spelt the word)

'Hold a heartful of heather, never let

    it wither,

Even as you travel far from crag and river -

Remember heather, the company it keeps,

    its treasure.'

And...oh alright, I'll give you a tiny glimpse of the picture...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Outskirts - Living Life on the Edge of the Green Belt ~ John Grindrod

I might be jetting off soon but we have plenty of bookish thoughts still to come before I do and, having seen that Outskirts by John Grindrod was in the offing, I was more than pleased when a copy arrived in the post..

'Coined by National Trust co-founder Octavia Hill at the end of the nineteenth century, the phrase 'Green Belt' originally formed part of an impassioned plea to protect the countryside. By the late 1950s, those idealistic Victorian notions had developed into something more complex and divisive. Green Belts became part of the landscape and psyche of post-war Britain, but would lead to conflicts at every level of society - between conservationists and developers, town and country, politicians and people, nimbys and the forces of progress....

The first book to tell the story of Britain's Green Belts, Outskirts is at once a fascinating social history, a stirring evocation of the natural world, and a poignant tale of growing up in a place, and within a family, like no other.'

And I grew up there too as I mentioned in a post backalong. John Grindrod hails from 46 Fairchildes Avenue, New Addington, me from nearby Mitcham, mid-way between the two is Croydon, my mum's go-to shopping venue for dressmaking fabrics (Allders) and we'd get a ride on the donkeys (Kennards). It's hard to believe that there was such a thing as donkey rides in a shopping arcade, but Kennards in the 1950s was that special. Years ago now, when I did that interview with Ralph McTell, also a Croydon lad, we spent an age talking about those donkeys; something a child would never forget.

In fact, could donkey rides for children in shopping arcades make a come-back or might health and safety, crash helmets, RSPCA, insurance, CRB checks, safe-guarding or infection control get in the way?

In a seamless blend of social history and anecdote John Grindrod has created a unique interpretation of place in Outskirts, and in doing so made that place special. Who else would bother to take a close look at an ordinary housing estate on the edge of the woods 'an intermediate nowhere', let alone make it this fascinating for the reader.

Woven into the fabric is John's remarkable family, his parents Marj and John and two brothers. Marj disabled and wheelchair-bound but don't be deceived, set aside any notions of limitations because Marj is game for anything. Whilst it might have been terrifying to cadge an excursion in her Invacar it would have been memorable for neighbour Joan Blood I am sure...(my asterisks because said words are blocked on here or I end up with spam galore)

'Marjorie on a cushion in the driver's seat, Joan next to her, like an ironing board in a mac...once behind the wheel all of her street-fighting Battersea childhood came out and she'd f*****g b*****d her way round the streets, winding down the windows and giving some van driver or reckless motorist a piece of her mind, two fingers and a bagful of bad language.'

Blended into the narrative of John's family life in the 1970s are the origins, history and development of the Green Belt, the protected chain of green land that started to purposefully surround our cities here in the UK in the post-war years, bought by councils to prevent or control further building. But someone has to live in the edge of it, on the rural boundaries, ' the intermediate nowhere' and with that came tensions and snobbery, along with class and social boundaries...the townies seen as trespassers, mocked and scorned for their lack of country knowledge. Coupled with this are the often fragile and fractured aspects of family life challenged by the gaping holes created, despite her best efforts, by John's mum's disability and illness, his dad's coping mechanisms and the family's preference for mental and emotional self-sufficiency.

'In my family, keeping it all in was the very least that could be expected of you. Forget public displays of affection, we could barely manage private displays of acquaintanceship.'

This was no more acutely demonstrated for me than in Marj's concealment of a pregnancy. hidden not for reasons of disability but by the low expectations of others.

John Grindrod doesn't flinch from examining his family's past, nor how it has affected the present, acknowledging the truths that are revealed, but sharing too the joy of that woodland across the road waiting to be explored (though by his own admission it didn't turn him into nature boy) which all makes for a fascinating and highly recommended read and I learned surprising Did-You-Know things along the way like these statistics...

Constituent Parts of the British Isles

Arable and horticulture 25%
Grassland - pasure, silage and recreation 25%
Mountains, heaths and bogs 16%
Semi-natural grasslands 13%
Coniferous woodland 6%
Broadleaf woodland 6%
Urban areas 6%
and an awful lot of golf courses.

I tended to think that cities took up a lot of space but it would seem they don't.

I'm thinking some of you, like me, might have grown up in the Green Belt ' a band of tame outdoors held in stasis' or perhaps live there now so I'd love to know your thoughts...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

New Zealand redux

I'm travelling at the end of this month, the day after I am unashamedly sixty-four...

"Doing the garden, digging the weeds, who could ask for more?
Will you still need me, will you still feed me, when I'm sixty four?" etc

Who'd have thought it back in 1967 when my thirteen-year-old self was singing those words.

Preparations are well underway.

The first thing I declared after fifty-four hours of flying last time was...

"I'm not doing that again without a set of noise-cancelling head phones."

I know you all told me to get some... money well-spent, would make all the difference etc but somehow you just can't believe it until you have sat through fifty-four hours of engine noise, and every other sort of noise, and realised after about thirty minutes that your £30 set aren't going to cut the mustard. Anyway after a lot of research I have taken out a mortgage with John Lewis (why buy anything anywhere else these days) on a set of Sony something-or-others which seemed to get even better reviews than Bose. It's a shame because I've always coveted anything Bose, but the trouble is when you go to the shop, and try them all out whilst standing underneath a machine that creates aeroplane engine noise, you can immediately tell the difference and are hooked into the best pair whether you like or or not. 

This time around, and yes, I am just as excited about my first sighting of The Land of the Long White Cloud...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

...it's Air New Zealand all the way and I hope I have planned my flight times more carefully (I will never leave Singapore at midnight again). I will be going backwards for a change, as in outward to Los Angeles with long enough there to find my next boarding gate, thence to Auckland and on to Christchurch. Homeward via Singapore, so a great big circumnavigation of the world, and three weeks with Offspringette in the middle. As well as the International Quilting Symposium it is also the Christchurch Walking Festival so I shall be doing some tramping too, as well as day to day around the city rather than the big tourist trail around the entire South Island. 

You all gave me some wonderful advice and tips for my last long haul flight in January 2016 but I'm up for a new developments, discoveries and innovations, so all suggestions very welcome. After that first excursion I already have a list of must-haves and must-dos...

Small carry-on case with multi-directional wheels rather than a hold-all...

Capacious 'handbag'...

Inflatable foot rest...

Inflatable back cushion

Neck pillow...

I'll still be inflating all these things half-way across the Atlantic but it helps pass the time.

Anti-bacterial wipes...

Hand cream, lip salve....

Elasticated waist on whatever I am wearing...

Fluffy socks and slippers....

A pashmina/style wrap...

An aisle seat so that I can walk around when I want to rather than waking the comatose person next to me. Mind you I'm hoping that the comatose person might be me this time around...I don't think I slept a wink either way last time. 

And who was it who suggested the Simple eye gel stick?? Wonderful invention, thank you.

Having given up on my audio books last time I'm hoping for success this time. I actually wish I hadn't already listened to all Kate Atkinson's Jackson Brodie series, and Gail Honeyman's Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine because I enjoyed them so much. Currently I'm listening to Lenny Henry narrating My Name is Leon by Kit de Waal and it is exceptional in every respect...story and 'performance' stunning.

More audio book suggestions very welcome....

What would sustain me in my own little world through twenty-six hours of flying?

And music...

I know this is a very personal thing according to taste but what would sooth, even send me to sleep...

 

 

 

 

You are allowed...

...just the one guess...

Oh alright then here's another clue ... 

 

Now I really am...

 ...taking that blog break I promised myself through August.

I have come home from the Festival of Quilts full to the brim with inspiration and am currently taxing my brain with a fabric covered Yoshimoto Cube...you know those magic cubes that fold, and re-fold in and out on themselves. I started  with eight sponge cubes and six different fabrics and the stitching has become quite addictive...and if anyone knows a supplier of 6cm soft sponge cubes please do let me know. I can't find them anywhere on line other than in kits to make these...

And I am reading, reading, reading whilst thinking that summer might arrive any day soon (they say Tuesday) and suddenly had the urge to go to a bookshop yesterday, on a wet, grey Sunday. I cashed in all my Waterstones loyalty card bonuses, picked up a special buy-one-get-one-half-price offer and so was very pleased to still have change from £20 for these...

I wasn't planning to read The Underground Railroad by Colson Whitehead but I have been persuaded, and 200 hundred pages in (it rained for the rest of Sunday...we lit the fire) I am not disappointed. It is harrowing, gripping, informative and emotional and has all led me to explore what I had heard was the myth about the underground railroad quilts and their secret symbols. It's a story that would comfort and console in the face of so much agony, and I so want to believe it is true, but history is at odds with the scant evidence apparently. Undaunted I have reserved some books from the library so I will report back dreckly.

Likewise no plans to read 4 3 2 1 by Paul Auster at heaven knows how many pages long, but I have almost finished Olivia Manning's The Balkan Trilogy which proves I can read a long book if I try hard enough. I downloaded the Kindle sample of 4 3 2 1 (persuaded again by  the same reading friend) and that was it, I needed the real deal on paper between two covers.

Both books on the shortlist so maybe it's not such a bad thing that the Man Booker is open to US authors after all...

And there is a buzz around Barkskins by Annie Proulx, so it will be good to get back to her writing after a very long gap....The Shipping News, Postcards...

So that's me out of a mischief for a couple of weeks, how about you...

Books...

Projects...

Holidays...

And the winners are....

Thank you to everyone who entered, the three lucky winners of a copy of Quilts In Ireland by Kaffe Fassett, ( who was at the Festival of Quilts but not actually sitting in his chair when I walked past) 

18 53 28

Random numbers generated Aug 16 2017 at 20:0:3 by www.psychicscience.org

18 - Lisa Knill

28 - Kate from Cheshire

53 - Emptynester

Now the times I do these draws...enter the parameters, in this case 1-72, ask for three numbers and press the button, then head to the blog post to see whose name has come up, and more often than not I don't know the winners...except today I know TWO of them and I think a Kaffe book will be just what they need, so I am doing a little jig here in celebration.