Shine Brightly

Beth, my daughter, told me the sad news of the passing of Dolly P. Her tribute seemed perfect to me and she has given me permission to reproduce it.

“I remember when we drove home from a day out in Haworth not long before Christmas a few years ago. It was.really foggy on the tops (moors). We had Dolly playing in the car (9 to 5 definitely).

I’ve made a plum cake and a mini plum crumble with plums from the tree in my garden. I’m dedicating the cake to Dolly.”

i’ll just explain that the fog meant it was impossible to see anything, and I was terrified (especially for my daughter who was driving). As always, Dolly belting out her songs helped me through/gave me backbone. All was well. I don’t bake so I’ll encourage more butterflies into my garden instead

Raveled sleave

“Sleep that knits up the raveled sleave of care”

Shakespeare, Macbeth

My Dad whose big feet always stood on lost needles. And some little mixed media collages that were suggestive of sleep to me.

And, to quote from The Birds Fall Down by Rebecca West, “She liked embroidery. It was a solitary pastime and noone bothered to interfere with it.” Acually, yes it can be, but I have also met some lovely people through sewing and I like it when we meet up and sew together.  Practice leads to facility and then it is does knit up one’s raveled sleave.

Optimism

3 sunny images from Torremelinos,  Spain (as my daughter and I recently caught up with my sister and family -they live in NZ).

3 (fly) stitch samplers from an ongoing challenge to use colours I never use – namely dark blues, some greens, some reds, and browns.

3 Spring images taken in W Yorkshire – early April and early May.  Torremelinos was sandwiched in-between.

I hope the images give out some optimism and light. 

Clocks Change

Embroidered heart on mixed media and mounted on a dyed already embroidered tablecloth (that I have regretted cutting up). More about this later in the year.

It was a real tonic to attend a workshop on researching womens’ lives (put on to celebrate International Womens Day at Halifax Minster and led by the local library service). It was an eye opener and made me  aware of the patchiness of my historical knowledge.

Clocks and seasons change, but issues around power and the poorest continue. So, a shout out for the working class suffragists in particular.  Internet search Annie Kenney for example. For the carers and cleaners. Some use clunky and often unreliable public transport and have to wait around in lonely bus stations at anti-social hours. The paid and the unpaid carers.

And the foot soldiers:  the leafleters and the marchers. And for the memory of Aunty Ann, and the lovely story of her knocking on doors encouraging neighbours to vote for the set up of the NHS. And for Linda, the union rep at my last place of employment, gone way too soon, and fighting to the end to give those without much power a voice.

*** This blogger is passionate about advocating for reasonable and reliable public transport. ***

Life’s not fur. It’s rabbit wool.

Sky above Rochdale ; a creature created by me; a selection of pictures from the exhibition I visited.

Feb was swift but I managed a visit to Salford Art Gallery. Salford Voices (celebrating 100 years since Salford was granted city status). The exhibits were all chosen by people who live or work in Salford. They included a scold’s bridle (exactly what it says it is). I’ll pass on time travel backwards. 

Catch yer later sweet pertater

Images – January 2026

After my last post, a memory popped up of a book I gifted that wasn’t welcomed. My fiesty aunty informed me that ‘Crime & Punishment’ was a dirty book and had been put in the trash. The complaint was not about the content; the book had been on the shelf a long time and the pages had aged and turned brown. I kicked myself, as my Mum and all her sisters were adamant that old gifted comics had given their youngest sister, Laura, scarlet fever (back in the 1940s). And the fiesty second youngest, Mary, had told me herself that she was working then and found it humiliating to have to go for fumigation baths.  This aside, Crime & Punishment remains perhaps the most vivid book in my memory bank.

I’m dedicating the photos and this post to a buddy who in the Spring time of my life shared  lovely and happy times with me.  Since his relatively early passing not that long ago, I have wanted to somehow mark my gratitude for his inspiring and generous presence in my life. Rest in Peace PG.

The Three Musketeers

A mixed media stitch meditation on the theme of peace (2025)

A teacher noticed my Aunty Mary looking longingly at “The Three Musketeers”. All her long life Mary was forever grateful to that teacher for saying, “would you like to borrow that book Mary?”  Her family were so poor they sometimes had to hide from the rent man.  There were no books.

Like many, I admire Dolly Parton for setting up The Imagination Library to honour her father who missed out on learning to read and write. In my own little way, I pass all my books on and I’m convinced at least a few have found the right waiting hands.

Tucked up close to my heart

sensory garden, Hollingworth, Littleborough

During the pandemic, a small public garden, tended by volunteers, was my pilgrimage destination. I lived in a flat at the time with no outdoor space. The bulldozing began not long after the pandemic (a building was to be extended). It felt like terrible timing to me just as people adjusted to “new normal”. This place with a strong emotional connection for some of us was fenced off and bulldozed. So, sometimes it is best to  move your focus elsewhere, and I also eventually moved out of the flat and the area. I’ve not been back for over 12 months, so was pleased to find this sensory garden in the same area looking established.

As we are on the topic of thriving, I turn to a family anecdote. When the delighted adoptive parents took their new baby (i.e. my baby sister – 18 months younger than me) to meet maternal Grandma for the first time, she said, “ee, that one will always be ailing. Take her back”.  Our new baby had to have an operation on her tummy before we were able to travel by bus on a freezing winter day to collect her and bring her home with us. Grandma may have also reflected on her own large, poor, family, and that three of her children died in infancy (pneumonia and meningitis). She was wrong with her prediction about our new little one. Apart from heat rashes, tonsilitis, and an adventurous spirit, she was never ailing more than any other kid. Happy Birthday for 27th October Tilly Flop.