We’re in Aberystwyth, for a month of intensive Welsh grammar. There are verb patterns to remember. That’s quite straightforward, except there are some patterns that wander off in different directions. I’m reminded of School for Scoundrels, where it’s recommended to interrupt any knowledgeable but dull explanation with “Oh, but only in the south…”.
“What starts in school?” you may ask. There was a lot of nonsense about ‘fitting in’. This was illustrated by the difficulty of buying suitable black shoes for the offspring. Three children, two with wider feet and one with narrow feet. It’s possible to buy school shoes in the right sizes if you travel to a city with more choices. Otherwise, there were telephone calls about detention because of the ‘wrong’ shoes. The ‘correct’ shoes (after the local shoe shop had ordered the right size especially) were often in a bag, to be changed into after walking to school in a more appropriate pair with sturdier soles. There were threats that “this will be added to the pupil’s records!”.
“Oh no!” I tried to humour them. “Not the record!”.
I was summoned to a meeting: “Mrs X wants to see you on Friday morning!”.
“Does she?”. Regretfully I declined, having a prior appointment that day. The receptionist was unhappy, nervous about what to tell Mrs X. I advised that the meeting should be with shop owners who weren’t stocking the correct sizes of uniform stuff, not me.
“One size fits all” does not apply to shoes. Nor should it apply to education. Now that the young people have completed their studies (despite various obstacles), I’m seeing advertisements about school attendance. We often received an A4 sheet describing the perils of missing a day (or more!) of school. Nobody misses being bullied by a teacher. Nobody learns much by using obsolete methods. Hopefully the lessons learned in Pembrokeshire have helped our family to never collude with madness.
I’m bemused to notice that the auto type suggests the next word after ‘school’ should be ‘shooting’. No, it really shouldn’t.
There’s often an imaginary gallery in my dream landscape. Various prints and drawings appear on the walls, some of which I recycled years ago. A few months ago, this woodland scene was on display. I didn’t like it but it kept getting in the way of my dreaming walk around the gallery. Maybe if I make a version in the real world it’ll disappear from my dreams? Cutting the lino took a long time. A drawing would’ve been much more direct but it wouldn’t have looked right.
I’m very fond of folk tales and legends. The thought of making pictures of tree spirits didn’t appeal, there are enough around already. I suppose this is a depiction of the life force of the planet we live on. We don’t think about our connectivity until it’s under threat.
The theory of bad workmen blaming their tools comes in again. Blunt cutting tools won’t cut fine lines exactly where you plan them to be. Badly made rollers/brayers won’t pick up ink smoothly. I thought I’d use a second roller to add blue to the upper corners of the tree. It didn’t pick up any ink at all…
Sometimes a tiny detail isn’t in contact with the paper. A wooden spoon or the edge of a coin is useful to rub that section more closely. My usual beach pebble had disappeared so a piece of lapis lazuli was employed instead.
The moon had a yellow orange glow around it the other evening. I thought I’d add a similar line around a drawing. Do the stars dictate our fate? Who can tell?
This is a little drawing, about 9 x 12cm. Various colours of biro and caran d’ache crayons.
Twenty five years ago I took a few photos of my firstborn’s hand on my hand. Since then I’ve made drawings from the least blurry pictures, and transferred one of those to a little piece of lino. Sketches and lino blocks go missing during house moves and home improvement projects.
Finally, after years of dithering, I have cut enough of this lino to make a test print. It might benefit from more little dots in the background and a different colour ink but that’s for another day.
The Lincoln Imp is a small devilish creature who was sent from the underworld to cause havoc. In theory, to put an end to this destruction, an angel turned the imp to stone. The imp has been watching from his position on an arch inside Lincoln cathedral for a few hundred years. Visitors spend a long time hunting for him so I won’t say which arch…
Last October I noticed some plans for a Lincoln Imp Trail. A design for a large impish creature was unveiled. Its facial features were too small and it had an unfortunately positioned leg which was regarded as phallic by some observers.
I emailed the imp makers to suggest they looked closer at the real imp’s face. Maybe they could reconsider their design? They thanked me for my feedback but claimed their imps were not based on any specific imp(!) It must be a coincidence that their imp has been designed to perch with hands resting on one leg. Sitting in that position fits a character who peeks out from an arch of greenery, artistic license would allow some movement.
Recently the full size imps have appeared in the city. The tale of the hilarious phallic statues has reached the national press. Not all publicity is good – but maybe a shameful council that plans to close Lincoln’s Usher Gallery will realise that people really do need to be more visually literate.
A Wild in Art spokesperson said: “The mischievous response on social media is in the spirit of the imp and shows that people are looking forward to this event”.
“Once decorated the sculptures, which are based on Lincoln’s iconic imp will make a vibrant, colourful and fun art trail celebrating the city.”
Now they’re saying it’s based on a specific imp, will they admit it lacks any mischievous spirit? It’s dispiriting to think that sculpting skills were so much livelier in previous centuries. My own stonemason ancestors must be whirling in their tombs.
Test printing some little postcards. Were we promised unicorns as part of the Brexit outcome? Nobody can remember…
Not actually a pie, there’s no pastry.
I mixed a packet of lemon pie filling (mostly potato flour, cornflour etc) with half a pint of water but left out the egg yolk that the instructions suggested.
There was a jar of water left over from a can of chickpeas. I whisked the water with half a teaspoon of cream of tartar. I added caster sugar and continued to whisk.
The meringue spread nicely over the cooled lemon pie. Should it be baked or grilled? Various recipes suggested various methods and temperatures. Into the oven for a while. As there had been too much meringue I’d put spoonfuls of the mixture onto some baking parchment.
These were baked for a shorter time. They looked nice but were still wet inside… A minute of microwaving improved the texture.
The meringue on top of the pie was also watery inside. Grilling it didn’t help. Neither did microwaving, it exploded! I gathered the broken pieces and microwaved them. Lemon pie with chickpea meringue garnish?
Democracy – a system of government in which the sovereign power is vested in the people as a whole exercising power directly or by elected officials.
Democracy should mean power to the people, but somehow we have all chosen to give power to the wrong people. We are governed by a small group of people who are out of touch with our distant problems.
Our elected members have done very little to improve life in Pembrokeshire. They have consistently voted in line with their party policy rather than for the best interests of their constituents. Their actions have caused further cuts to our health board and they have helped to slowly eradicate any local educational opportunities.
Previously prorogued parliaments have been followed by military rule after beheading the monarch – the green party might disapprove of royalty but we’re not savages.
We need to save our environment, which is more important than any petty political shenanigans. I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news but Green Party policy is to look for a positive solution and for everyone to take practical action. Everyone has a skill to offer. Pembrokeshire has a great many worthy projects that are run by volunteers, when they should be properly funded.
There will be distractions such as tribal concerns or the media’s divide and rule tactics, it’s too late to bother with those. You can disagree with someone’s outlook but still achieve some level of common ground.
Do we need to be governed by impractical people that we would never seek advice from? No.
Let our elders and betters shut themselves down. Ideally parliament in its current form would never resume and we could save a vast amount of money and resources.
berry daines 