Made in England – china dessert bowl – date and manufacturer unknown.
A rather dramatic story is unfolding in my breakfast bowl.
Cereals and desserts have been eaten from this bowl for over thirty years and yet I have never properly looked at the picture on it.
A few days ago I had a shock when I scooped up the last spoonful of my Weet-Bix (similar to the UK Weetabix, both invented by Bennison Osborne, an Australian) and saw there was a castle on the hill. I kid you not, I had never seen that castle before!
Allow me to acquaint you with some backstory. Originally there was a set of six china bowls (15 centimetres or 6 inches across) and originally my parents owned them. Unfortunately porridge, domestic accidents, and heating leftovers in the microwave have whittled them down. Of the surviving two, one has a nasty looking fault line appearing. Therefore, the bowl I have photographed may be the end of the ceramic line. Or the end of the beginning of a coach trip.
So far, so boring—but wait. Although this bowl is old, I have to be honest and say it is not an antique. In fact the picture may have been embossed on like a transfer and glazed over. Never mind, I’m getting to the point, well, ten points actually—
♦ First there is the brooding castle on the hill; quite a substantial pile. A name doesn’t immediately spring to mind but I’m working on it.
♦ Nestled halfway down the hill is a gamekeeper or crofter’s cottage.
♦ In the valley at the base of the hill is a small village. An unaccompanied lady is standing on the side of the unpaved road which runs past the Duck Inn. She isn’t over-dressed and uses a walking cane. Her gaze is towards the two gentlemen opposite, chatting beside the milestone. Perhaps this marker reads “London 100 miles” but I can’t decipher it.
♦ One of the toffs (lord of the manor) is holding a buggy whip. He would not have ridden a horse down from the castle in a top hat. He could be the lady’s son and heir up to no-good, he spends too much time in the tavern. Or she may be his old faithful nanny, instructed to keep an eye on him. Or yet again, she could be the wife of the man canoodling in the middle of the road.
♦ We see two lovers canoodling in the middle of the road. The man is keener than the woman, and a dog is either giving them a wide berth or coming around behind the man to nip him on the ankle.
♦ Unbeknown to the busily occupied people, a cat slinks into the rear footwell of the coach. Earlier he had been shooed away but being a feline named Nosey…
♦ Outside the Duck Inn (a duck is painted on the sign) the coach boy is making final preparations for the horses’ feedbags. He loves them ‘orses.
♦ The coach driver is ready and waiting. He’s heard rumours that Dick Turpin is lurking in the vicinity (if I’m in the right century) and wants to get going well before nightfall. The innkeeper loaned him a pistol and it digs into the small of his back.
♦ Seven people are milling about. At least four are passengers judging by the loading of a trunk on the roof, a well-wrapped parcel in somebody’s hands, and a family group perhaps saying goodbye. The husband could be off to London on business and the daughters are sad but the wife is glad he’s out of her hair for a few days.
♦ Lastly, a curtain twitches at one of the attic windows of the Duck Inn.
There are leafy details in the background and in the foreground the stone wall appears to be crumbling. I have looked for birds but only managed to spy a tiny number 9 in the garden beneath the Duck Inn sign. A maker’s mark?
And that’s it. There are no hallmarks or stamps on base of the bowl except the words “Made in England”. I have no idea if the picture is fake-aged or has been copied from an earlier (original) tableware design.
One thing is for sure, it has given me a good idea for an historical short story. Visual prompts are another way to overcome writer’s slump. Look hard at any image and you will find a story to tell.
Check your kitchen cupboards, your own crockery may have a narrative in the making!
Readers of my blog often go straight to my current post which detours Photo Of The Week on my Home page. I’ve gathered together some of my favourite shots—just in case you’ve missed a couple!
On a go-slow day at home, I clicked a link from a fellow writer and discovered this cool/cute/interesting Adobe Create personality test. It invited me to answer 15 questions. Eight creative types are on offer and once I’d completed the test I was given a full explanation of My Creative Type.
This quiz-like questionnaire gave me a joyful, colourful few minutes. I could take it or leave it, the results are rather like a horoscope, but it did give me a confidence boost.
‘Visionary’ Creative from Adobe Types Test
Apparently I am “VISIONARY – A visionary combines a vivid imagination with a desire for practical solutions. Your introspective and intuitive nature is balanced by a keen interest in the world around you.” The rest is private!
The Adobe Creators say “The Creative Types test is an exploration of the many faces of the creative personality. Based in psychology research, the test assesses your basic habits and tendencies—how you think, how you act, how you see the world—to help you better understand who you are as a creative. Answer these 15 questions and you’ll gain a deeper understanding of your motivations, plus insight into how to maximize your natural gifts and face your challenges.”
“These personality types aren’t black-and-white labels. Think of them more as signposts pointing you toward your full creative potential. While there’s probably one core type that best describes you, you may change types at different points in your life and career, or even at different stages of the creative process. As a creative, you have a little bit of all eight Types inside you.”
Ten images taken during my stay-home Easter break. In Australia public holidays are mainly observed on Good Friday, Easter Saturday, Easter Sunday and Easter Monday.
🐥 🐣 🐤 🐥 🐣 🐤 🐥
Palm Sunday arrives first and falls on the last Sunday of Lent, the Sunday before Easter.Good Friday and our traditional home-baked hot cross buns are cooling before the sugar glaze.Easter Saturday and I check on a tiny daisy plant (or weed) in the front garden.Easter Saturday and I unearthed this little old turtle in the back garden.Easter Sunday and we gather kitchen utensils to bake sweet biscuits in rabbit, chicken and egg shapes.Easter Sunday and time to count the donations in our Lent Event coffee jar money box.Easter Sunday and the dragon lamp and fishbone ferns keep guard over my potful of new basil seedlings.Easter Monday and I discovered Dr Who memorabilia and BBC magazine from Nov 2013 with no inkling of Jodie Whittaker.Easter Monday and the flip-side of BBC Dr Who magazine advertising a groovy 2013 event in Cardiff Bay.Easter Monday and there are always one or two uneaten chocolate eggs hanging around.
Easter is a time to reflect on sadness and rebirth; a time when our weather is often humid with autumnal rains; a time for relaxing with family and friends.
Nasturtiums like to grow free-range in the sun with well-drained soil but I planted the seeds in an old hanging basket under the verandah and watched their lifespan over three months from warm September mornings in springtime to steamy January afternoons in summertime.
Before you yawn in boredom, let me explain. A local bookshop promotes a new title ‘The Art Of The Tea Towel’ by Marnie Fogg, hardback 144 pages and selling well.
That author could have been me!
Last year I posted about my cotton tea towels, their history and some photographs. Nobody, as far as I could tell, had done this before and I was rather proud of my efforts. This year Marnie’s book comes out and I’m kicking myself.
The ‘what ifs’ start – what if I had ironed my linen tea towels, what if I had borrowed my great aunt’s classic designs, what if I had posed them with kitchen utensils and what if I had pitched to a nostalgic publisher who loves tea and scones?
Would I have my name on that cover if I’d taken the initiative? Would, could, maybe…
Of course, there’s always the option of publishing my own tea towel book, but there would be the whiff of ‘copycat’ about it. I doubt the literary world is ready for another one.
We celebrate on Christmas Day in whichever way the universe imparts to us, but my wish is that you experience a safe, happy, holy, calm and peaceful Christmas 2018.
Australians really love their pet pals – one in three won’t go on holidays because it would mean leaving their pet behind. A recent survey examined the lifestyle of 1,000 pet owners regarding the impact pets have on their travel habits. I found the results interesting.
National Seniors and Trusted Housesitters research demonstrates that with 5.7 million households owning a pet in Australia (over 13 million people) roughly four million people choose to stay at home rather than holidaying due to concerns about their pet’s well-being.
Apparently those who did take a break (69%) said they had felt guilty when leaving their pet behind, while over one-third of Australian pet owners (36%) have turned down a weekend away, citing being unable to arrange pet care as the reason.
Pets often disrupt their owners’ social lives, with 18% of respondents having regularly missed social engagements in favour of staying at home to ensure their pets were cared for. Of those surveyed, 6% avoided going on dates, choosing their pets over romance.
When it comes to Australian pet owners who regularly take holidays, 29% opted for a trusted pet sitter versus putting their pet in a boarding kennel (21%), while 35% of pet owners organised friends or family to care for their furry friend.
One in four participants said they would never travel overseas or interstate without their pet. Presumably this pet is a dog and the owner is wealthy!
In a British study of veterinary experts conducted by Trusted Housesitters UK, 100% believed animals responded better to a new carer than a new environment, as animals were particularly bonded to their home. Is there bias in this result?
I’m not making any pronouncements for-or-against. I’ve loved and cared for every one of my darling pets and by making arrangements in advance, none ever stopped me from travelling away from home. But the guilt was there.
Thoughts Become Words 