Sunday, July 5, 2015

5th July

Yesterday was a busy day, the 'curtain' lady came in the morning and we spent a long time chattering, now I have to unpick the lining from four very large curtains, so that the curtains can be dry cleaned and relined and cut to fit the two windows in the sitting room.  We have decided on a sheer voile blind for the window that overlooks the churchyard, just for some privacy now and then.
Yesterday there was a strawberry cream tea inside the church so we met all the people we have already met, plus more.  I am not a good chatterer, being very shy, also when there are a lot of people talking I seem to be following several threads at once which results in complete confusion in my brain!
I shall refer to people by their initials, just in case they stumble on my blog, but P an elderly gentlemen was there, he seems to be in charge of the church and rather lonely as his wife died several years ago.  We met J's husband, she of the pony and trap, and a great talker, think I will get on with her as we both have that direct way of looking at things...  People are so friendly that it becomes overwhelming and one needs to go and sit in a quiet place for a bit. Our historian was there B, who talked non-stop.  looked out of the window in the evening only to see him chattering with LS.  He had brought a book written by the previous landlord of the pub A.  Funnily enough (this is a small place) we had met both of them at the pub, when we had gone over for something to eat, and A wanted to talk about his family who had run the pub for near on 100 years.
They wanted a place , a bit like a museum, to store the old things that had slowly tumbled down through the years from the village; the bell that lies, somewhat forgotten, in the river, and can only be seen when the river is low.
So many stories unfold from people, the white railings near the stone bridge, were put there after an old man many years ago, stumbling away from the pub  was found a month later dead in the river.
the old gate from the church closed off by the 'new' people who owned the field and a source of great grumbling by the locals....

And now let me introduce you to an extinct glyph, did not have a very long history, does not appear on our keyboard but for my way of thinking could fulfil a role in the middle of a sentence quite easily.......

The now-extinct glyph was created and patented in Canada by three American inventors in 1992, and true to its name, it was designed to both look and act like the lovechild of the incredibly utilitarian comma and the equally hated and adored exclamation point.


  1. I must say I do rather like that glyph - pity it is extince as I think it could serve a very useful purpose.
    My first husband and I found the North Yorkshire folk in our village very friendly too. Within an hour of moving into our house the farmer neighbour had come round with chopped sticks for the fire and home made butter. And when my husband was dying and I was nursing him at home, the whole village rallied behind me, doing my washing, ironing and airing, baking cakes and leaving them on the doorstep, doing my shopping. I was overwhelmed with kindness and we had only lived in the village for two years.
    There was a local history group and we did join that immediately (taken in the first week by our farmer neighbour).
    Now remarried for twenty years to another local farmer and living a mile out of the village I still find it a very friendly place.

    1. Funnily enough, the farmer who sold this house to us, Mr.King, has been on the doorstep more than once offering to help. Think he is very proud of the house, as he helped build it.
      That was a lovely gesture by the local villagers helping you with your husband. I was widowed at 27, and most of my suburban neighbours were very kind, it took 10 years to actually get over the death, and my in-laws at the time were very kind.

  2. We have been cordially welcomed into our new neighborhood--a much friendlier outreach in Kentucky apparently than in other places we have lived. I've never mastered the art of gliding from one group to another and chatting, plate in hand, at large informal gatherings.
    Always feel that I'm on the edge of conversations and not quite making all the connections. After a bit of that effort I do want to return to my own quiet corner. I prefer getting better acquainted with people in smaller doses.
    I've been repurposing some curtains--the picking out of seams is tedious but one feels quite frugal and pleased with the results when the curtains are made to fit nicely in a new space.

    1. My first curtain took an hour to 'rip' out with the stitch unpicker, Sharon but as I became more confident and pulled the lining away it got faster, the pleats were treble and they took the time.
      You of course live in an exciting Amish place, I am not sure how it works but I suspect different rules apply as well. Crowds and parties terrify me beforehand, and I have learnt from long experience that it is better to be a 'listener' and and not a talker, people are on the whole more interested in their own lives than yours. Mind you I could lead a very boring life ;)

    2. Not sure why the very thought of a social gathering brings on a sort of dread--one usually does manage to get through such times without noticeable awkwardness. I sense that my late father felt this anxiety, definitely there in my son, while daughter loves making the social scene and immediately becomes a center of attention.
      The dwindling Amish population here doesn't mix much socially with the 'Englishers'--there seems to be an unspoken code of separation which they understand better than we do.
      Re picking stitches: I was once advised that picking out every 4th stitch or so will release the hem without pulling the fabric--it takes some experimentation to discover the workable distance between picked stitches. I have to remind myself to settle into the task and not tug.

    3. Funnily enough Sharon, there is a separateness between Southerners and Northerners here, whether you perceive it or not, we, as southerners are classed as 'soft',(as opposed to the hard northerners). In the village, we are the 'new incomers', though of course there are other new people but they maybe local. This of course is just labelling, social interactions overcomes such barriers. For me, walking into a room full of people, will start my heart beating fast, this is of course self-awareness and not easily overcome, if ever!
      The curtains have been delivered to our curtain lady, she has a fabulous workshop in the garden, very neat, with a large table of at least 12ft, and pretty curtains on tracks round the room, her quote is of course expensive. But this is what I expected, not sure LS did, so I have just pulled out a pair of curtains for this room and they will be washed and hung soon...

  3. Sometimes, life imitates art. Reading about the idea of a museum brought memories of a one-man Canadian play/TV series about a stockbroker-turned farmer. "Letters from Wingfield Farm". Actor, Rod Beattie transforms himself into the local characters. The pertinent segments are:

    The last episode was never uploaded, but has Walt try to recover the old mill stone from the river for the museum.

    1. Hi John, will go and watch those, the museum idea by B the historian, who does not live in the village now but was born in Normanby (the first R is rolled for pronunciation). He cannot leave stuff he has collected to his sons, so is at a loss. There is another collector in the village who collects old kitchen paraphenalia, and has a room in the cottage devoted to that, not sure his wife was happy about it though.

    2. Well I have just watched the last episode and Wingfield is very funny, extraordinary mobile face. The problem is of course with museums is that they are going out of fashion, most often due to lack of funds and a political stance by the present government. A dusty room with a handful of objects will not get many visitors and of course needs upkeep. LS says churches with a handful of parishoners, should be prepared to share the church buildings in a different way. I feel that there is such a lot of dissent to be found in such undertakings it would not be wise.

    3. Even though I worked there as a cataloger in the military department, I have not visited Glenbow Museum in years and I walk by it at least twice a week.

      I wish there were more episodes of Wingfield on YouTube. Perhaps they can be purchased on Google Play. There were some good lines:

      Vet: "Your sheep might have some brain damage"
      Farmer: "How could you tell?"

  4. Good luck with unpicking the curtains. I have some to make up WHEN I find the time. I am glad to hear that you have moved into a friendly community - you sound to be fitting in well already. Although I am a chatterbox, put me in a room full of strangers and I shut up until I find someone on my wavelength. Being an empath, that is easy enough to do.

    I hope your new friend finds a good place for his beloved stuff. The local Museum with a capital M would I am sure take it in.

  5. That's an idea Jennie, Pickering has a small museum, we know someone deeply interested in history there to, though I expect B has already thought about it and just wants it to be in Normanby. Curtains unpicked, long dead spiders fallen out of the pleats......