sixty three and a half miles of bliss

I went to Minehead this morning, from Rockwell Green via Taunton by bus. That's the No. 15  followed by the No. 18 to be precise. There was a problem with our No. 18 not going up hills very well, so we swapped buses and our's was demoted to light duties - the town centre shuttle-bus route -  which is mainly on the flat.  Despite the swap over and diversion to find a sturdier steed, we still got there on time and I wasn't a minute late for my rag rug gig at a care home in Minehead. The sun was shining all the way and the views of the Quantocks were splendid.

Good session at the care home - lots of memories, laughter and conversation.

Then another equally enjoyable trip back. but the best thing about the bus journey today was discovering that I can sew really well by bus. I basted yards of fabric strips all ready for braiding a rug later on and I can't tell you how satisfying that was!

To be working just as efficiently at what I would normally be doing at home, but with the pictures-in-motion backdrop of West Somerset and snatches of bird song through the open door every time we stopped for passengers, was 63 and a half miles of bliss.

billy cat and wild garlic

Had another wonderful day at The Old Sale Rooms in which my "knowledge of random stuff" (thank you Steve - facebook friend and real life neighbour) has grown exponentially!

I didn't know until today, for instance, that Avonmouth docks always smelt of talc in the 1950s because it was imported there. I didn't know talc smelt of talc in fact. I thought it smelt of lavender or some such.

I didn't know until today, that there is a delightful alleyway opposite The Old Sale Rooms patrolled by the sleek Billy-Cat and that night skies up above the cottages that this alleyway leads to, are (to quote Candy who used to live there) " just awesome". For a step or two away from one of Wellington's main streets and the night sky is unpolluted and the stars as bright as anything.

I didn't know until today, the difference between 'bookland' and 'folkland'.

I didn't know until today, that a hop, skip and a jump away from Mantle Street, grows wild garlic (during wild garlic season that is)!

I didn't know until today, that the incident of a frozen sprout being used to break a window shortly after Christmas one year back along, was held up by our local press as an indicator of the then rising crime rate. And that reading the report of this misdemeanour (not pleasant for the victim of course) helped one man new to Wellington, having recently migrated from one of the crime hotspots of the North, sleep a lot better in his bed, than he had done for a long, long time...

Just how these memories of (mostly) Mantle Street will be illustrated in the memory rug, I have yet to work out. But the best thing for now, I've decided, is just to enjoy them!

Mantle Street Memories on Mondays.

I shall be 'in residence' at The Old Sale Rooms in Wellington on Mondays for the next few months, collecting and recording Mantle Street Memories that we are hoping people will come and share with us (originally I'd intended to be at The OSR on Thursdays but "Mantle Street Memories on Mondays" has more of a ring to it don't you think!)

We will be creating a memory board to display individual memories of Mantle Street, for everyone to enjoy reading. And also, when I have enough memories collected, I will design a rag rug to illustrate them and will work at it in situ and anyone who would like to, is welcome to bring in a little piece of fabric to add to it!

(If for any reason I'm unable to be at The Old Sale Rooms on a Monday, I will put a note on my blog to let you know, 'tho don't let it put you off visiting the OSR!)

a green dragon in the Green Dragon

 

On the 4th of February, roundabout the time of the feast of Brigid, some Wellington people gathered together along with a dragon and a spinner, in the back bar of The Green Dragon to celebrate that time of year when some people think of looking for signs of spring.

For myself, that need to look ahead and hold on to the certainty that spring follows winter, is more urgent than it was last year, 'though my home is safe from flooding and I've only had to wade through water-over-my-boots once to get home this winter.  A song was sung about the exploitation of weavers, and the spinner talked about Brigid and I got the gist of why we look to her, here in this area of weaving, for she of the snowy white garb is associated with the beginning of the lambing season.

Hearths, thresholds and doorways are also part of  the Brigid symbolism. I've been thinking about hearths and thresholds a lot recently in association with rug making. Thresholds: liminal spaces that are crossed by visitors, inviting worlds to collide. Hearths: where stories are written in flames and songfulness is learnt. Travelling by bus across the county for my rag rug 'gigs', I've rediscovered the pleasure of enjoying "reading in motion" - it  somehow heightens my engagement. Just finished Jeanette Winterson's "Why Be Happy When You Could Be Normal?" in which she talks about stories as being thresholds where the writer and her readers meet.

 

 

 

 

clootie catkins

Walked around Langford Heathfield this afternoon with a friend. Lots of signs of spring. Acorns sprouting shoots, and bright green catkins hanging from the branches like small clootie strips.

clootie wells

 

Clootie tree at Sancreed Well, Cornwall (Wikipedia)
 

Thinking about Imbolc and Clootie wells. And then, by extension - clootie rugs. How symbolic fabric is, of life and connectedness. We are wrapped in it from cradle to grave. And that metaphor for spatial and social connectedness - warp and weft, seems to somehow renew itself through constant usage.


Also springs to mind at this coming of spring, is Kathleen Jamie's poem: The Wishing Tree. Better to loosely tie our hopes and wishes to the branches I think, than press copper coins into the fissures of its bark (note that only immaterial wishes are granted).


Notes on Clootie Wells from Wikipedia:

When used at the clootie wells in Scotland and Ireland, the pieces of cloth are generally dipped in the water of the holy well and then tied to a branch while a prayer of supplication is said to the spirit of the well – in modern times usually a saint, but in pre-Christian times a goddess or local nature spirit. This is most often done by those seeking healing, though some may do it simply to honour the spirit of the well. In either case, many see this as a probable continuation of the ancient Celtic practice of leaving votive offerings in wells or pits.

 
The sacred trees at clootie wells are usually Whitethorn trees, though Ash trees are also common.
The most popular times for pilgrimages to clootie wells, like other holy wells, are on the feast days of Saints, the Pattern or Patron day, or on the old Gaelic festival days of Imbolc (1 February), Beltane (1 May), Lughnasadh (1 August), or Samhain (1 November).

 

jesus in the sand pit

Friday - my last day of this week's residency at The Old Sale Rooms. It has been such good fun and great to have the opportunity to meet people and talk about rug making memories. And Jane in the Tea Rooms has been feeding me delicious lunches!

I forgot to record here a memory offered to me a couple of days ago for sharing on the blog. A woman recalled going to the Salvation Army Sunday School in Scotts Lane ( I'm sorry I've forgotten your name - write and remind me if you are reading this!) In particular she remembered that if you were well behaved you were allowed to move a figure representing one of the bible characters across the sand pit. As the bible story was being told the children would act it out in the sand pit. She said that it really concentrated their attention! Yesterday, coincidentally, The Salvation Army Hall in Wellington closed down after 120 years. There's a good write up in this week's Wellington Weekly News.

Rick, Jane's husband, shared memories of well known characters from Mantle Street, including Ron Penny the road sweeper, who always had a kind word and a woodbine for the schoolboys! He also recalled Frank Webber walking up to town from Rockwell Green, in his hobnail boots and pushing a wheelbarrow full of vegetables from his allotment for trading.

Lee from Wellington Folk and Custom Society dropped by to advise of the bad weather that was playing havoc with the tables and chairs outside, and suggested I bring my rugs up to the 'Bishop Blaize and Bridgid coming of spring ceremony' to be held at the Green Dragon next Monday evening. It's a traditional custom in Wellington (home of weaving and spinning for so many hundreds of years)  to 'appoint' a new Bishop Blaize and a new Bridgid each year. Bishop Blaize was the protector of weavers, wool combers, while Bridgid protected and blessed spinners, smith craft, poets, lambs and all to do with hearth and home. To have my hearth rugs receive a blessing at the start of this new venture - how lovely!



                                   other end of rug with rolled up template

 

 

Jane has asked if I would like to continue using the space at The Old Sale Rooms to work in.

Of course I said "Yes please!" So for the next six months I am going to be based there every MONDAY between 10 and 5. If for any reason I can't make it one week I will let people know via my blog. While I am at The Old Sale Rooms, I will be working on another rug that will be inspired by customers' memories of Mantle Street. So I would love people to drop by and share their Mantle Street Memories with me. You will have the opportunity to write them down if you'd like them to be read and enjoyed by others. You might perhaps like to do a little rag rugging yourself and/or add a small piece of your own special fabric to the rug. For I'd like this rug to be made from - and represent on different levels - 'the fabric of our lives'. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 



Uncle Bill did embroidery on old flour sacks...

Fourth day of residency at The Old Sale Rooms and once again, lots of visitors with amazing anecdotes and stories to tell, relating to and spinning out from, the theme of textiles. Some are brief, some are more descriptive, but each sparks an image and ignites a colourful flame to brighten this grey January day.

Two cousins recalling and summoning to life again, the handiwork of relatives long gone:-

Anne: "My Uncle Bill did embroidery on old flour sacks."
Wendy: "Uncle Tom did samplers in the Navy - ships and anchors."

Yesterday I photographed the rug braiding tools that were manufactured in Maine, New England. Today I met Natalie who recalls spending time with her sister who lived in Maine. It was there that she learnt the craft of rug braiding which all the women did.  Her sister used to examine her rugs for gaps between the braiding, saying:
"you're not a good rug maker if you can shoot peas through it!"

 Natalie recalled tapping the maple for sap:
"If the sun was out, the sap would rise quickly and the bucket would have overflowed if you didn't collect it by midday."

She recalled maple sap being reduced in big pans to make fudge and another delicacy: maple syrup poured into the snow where it hardened and could be then eaten like sweets.

Talking of making do and mending, Natalie recommended looking at the quilts of The Gee's Bend Quilters: here is a link to a wonderful documentary. Not sure if it will lead to it by just clicking, but well worth copying and pasting if that's what you have to do to view!

 http://vimeo.com/50454661

Tricia who does rushwork was interested in the possibility of maybe combining techniques of rug braiding with rushwork. Tricia told us about going to pick the rushes at Isle Abbotts:

"The first time I  went it was a very wet summer and I capsized my boat"

The next time Tricia went prepared, and joined:

" a wonderful gang of ladies in wetsuits who plunged into the water singing 'green grow the rushes o!' "

Oh I almost forgot. The rug, here it is. Less rugging, more talking again!

sunshine corner

It's the third day of my residency at The Old Sale Rooms and today was very busy with visitors so I did considerably more talking than rag rugging. But that's what it's about too! And the relationship between textiles and talking: 'spinning a yarn', 'weaving a tale', 'embroidering the truth' runs deep, and continues with today's 'Knit and Natter' groups.

Met a woman who remembers attending chapel here (The Old Sale Rooms was originally a Methodist chapel). Her parents were the caretakers and she recalls coming in with them to stoke up the fires with coal before a service. She also recalled going to 'Sunshine Corner', a Sunday school held in the former Moose Hall just around the corner. She told us when she was young, she and her friends used to circulate around all the Sunday schools when it was getting close to 'trip' time, so that they got invited on all the summer charabanc trips!

Another visitor told me he remembered his grandmother in Yorkshire rag rugging a stair carpet. It's not the first time I've been told of such an ambitious endeavour. One woman recently told me that her father used to joke that they'd have to move into the shed to make room for the increasing amount of space that the stair carpet was taking up, as her mother neared its completion!

And I heard about rug making traditions on the canal narrow boats and Pauline, a narrow boat owner brought in to show me her lovely vintage braid making clamp and 'braid aids'.

Pauline's vintage braiding clamp (with braid aids)

Also talked with mother and daughter, Sarah and Anne. Sarah, told me what her daughter was too modest to mention: that her daughter had won a first prize for the 'rag rug' chair seat cover she had made!