A Scottish Village Renaissance

It's been a long time since I posted on here, mainly because I've been concentrating on finishing a brand new novel called Ice Dancing, which you can find on Amazon Kindle, here in the UK, or here, if you happen to be reading this from the USA. There was a lot to do to it, to get it ready for publication, and I was also spending quite a lot of time travelling around Scotland for various talks, festivals and meetings. I've been acquiring and processing some textiles as well, mostly at auction, so I have lots of things to list before Christmas. They are all clean and sweet smelling and neatly piled up in my big stock cupboard. I look at them and think 'oh dear, better get started then!'

The new novel, which isn't really about Ice Dancing at all, is set in a small Scottish village, a lowland Scots village of the kind I know well, and like very much. The ice dancing is a metaphor for something else, although it does feature ice hockey in Scotland and an athletic Canadian hero with a dark past. 'A nice man to whom bad things have happened' as one of my readers says. And she's right. But essentially, this is a novel about village life, the good and bad, the closeness and familiarity of it all, the way in which everyone knows everybody else's business, the safety of it and the occasional frustration of it all as well. I think it's quite a loving portrait, because I enjoy living in the countryside - but I'm also aware that it can be a bit of a mixed blessing.

I was thinking about all this today when I popped out to our village shop. It was a fine morning, after days of rain, and the village was looking rather cheerful with lots of autumnal activity. And I was thinking that just three years ago, although the village was picturesque and friendly, things seemed to be on the slide. The pub had been closed for a while and was looking derelict. The one and only shop was on the verge of closing. The school was looking a bit the worse for wear. Some of the houses were empty and unkempt. Some of our annual events seemed to be falling into abeyance with nobody to organise them.

Cue forward a few years. The shop is now community run, and includes a cafe as well. This morning it was busy and full of the appetizing smell of home baking. Two young men were sitting in the cafe drinking tea and waiting for their breakfasts. The fruit and vegetables had just been delivered (by the local retired doctor, who does the veggie run every week!) and there were covered plates positively stuffed with the most appetising and enticing home baking imaginable, all made in time for the weekend. The village hall was ringing with the cheerful sounds of children playing. We are getting a brand new eco friendly primary school and while it is being built, the school has been transferred to the newly redecorated hall. The pub has been renovated and reopened with a fabulous new restaurant. The village is decorated with pretty tubs, already planted out with winter pansies - courtesy of our new and very successful gardening club. Last week, the attendance at our reinstated firework display was bigger than ever. We supplied soup and hot dogs for the assembled spectators, and collected a good contribution to the next village event. We have had all kinds of gatherings and events, ceilidhs, and parties, most of which have been well attended and enthusiastically received. The few derelict houses have been sold and are already under enthusiastic renovation. In short, the village seems to be 'on the up' all over again.

It didn't happen without a great deal of enthusiasm and commitment on the part of a great many people though! And it didn't happen without the usual grumbling and the odd dispute. Has it all been worthwhile? I think it certainly has. Communities need a lot of hard work and good will to sustain them. Let's hope we can keep it up in the future!

Brave Textiles

Went to see Disney Pixar's Brave in the cinema the other day with a couple of friends. We thought the cinema would be reasonably quiet, since the movie has been out for so long in Scotland, but in the event, it was almost full: lots of little children who were absolutely captivated and - apart from giggling a lot, which we were doing as well - were all as quiet as mice. And this is quite a long film for tinies.
A big plus was the fact that the Scottish accents were absolutely authentic - Billy Connolly, the brilliant and gorgeous Kevin McKidd, Kelly MacDonald, Emma Thompson. It was funny and clever and there was plenty to keep young and old alike entertained: plenty of slapstick for the kids, plenty of clever dialogue and subtle animation jokes for the adults.
In short, this was a thoroughly entertaining film, but what struck me most of all (well it would, wouldn't it?) was the sheer beauty of the textiles. They were the very platonic ideal of textiles. Lots of plaids, wound around warriors (which must have been sheer hell to animate) and Merida's dresses. Oh and the scenery, which was wonderful.
When I got home, I googled the subject, to find that the textiles were indeed a miracle of art and animation: have a look at the link for a lot more information - and, of course, Merida's astonishing red hair, which seemed pretty amazing to me.
Worth a look, whether you're into animation, film, textiles or - like me - all three at once!

Embroidering Lives - Researching Costume History for Novels

When I'm not buying and selling antique and vintage textiles (or deciding to hang onto them, because I love them so much!) I'm a professional writer and these days, I mostly write novels. You can read all about me and them on my Amazon Author Page, here.   A lot of what I write is historical. The Curiosity Cabinet is partly set on a small island in early 18th century Scotland while The Amber Heart is a big romantic family saga, set in 19th century Eastern Poland.

I often find costume and embroidery figuring in my fiction. Central to the Curiosity Cabinet is a little raised work cabinet, such as can be admired in Glasgow's Burrell Collection. The heroine of that novel, Henrietta Dalrymple, finds herself having to alter and wear another woman's clothes, and they are described in some detail. I can remember having to point out to my editor that yes, bright Indian cottons would have been imported at the time, and might well have been worn by a lady of quality. Similarly, in The Amber Heart, Maryanna's mid nineteenth century clothes are described in some detail and on one occasion at least become quite central to the plot. Such details - so long as they aren't overdone - bring a scene to life and for me, are part of the joy of writing fiction.

In fact, for me, one of the chief pleasures of writing historical fiction is the research involved. I love finding out about things, how people lived and what they ate. I particularly love finding out about how they dressed and how things were made. One of the best books I ever found at a library sale, was a volume called Costume in Detail, 1730 - 1930 by Nancy Bradfield. It is stuffed full of detailed line drawings of the way men, women and children dressed over 200 years, from underwear outwards - an absolute gift for a writer and I've used it more than once.

A few years ago, I attended a session at the Royal Scottish Museum in Edinburgh, designed particularly for writers. The curator of costume at the time allowed us to see various items at close quarters and even to handle some of them. It's always a revelation to me to handle these items, to see how they were made and to realise that sometimes dresses which appear beautiful on the surface are cobbled together underneath! They have a sort of theatrical quality to them. The curator also pointed out that the wealthy were cleaner than we might suppose and changed their 'linens' - their shirts and underwear - often, as can be seen from the inventories of possessions, including clothes. It was the top garments which weren't washed (and sometimes had to be unpicked for cleaning.)

Also interesting for me is when I buy boxes of old textiles at auction, and realise just how treasured some of these possessions were. I'll find little baby gowns, for example, which have been mended and patched, carefully and beautifully, over a number of years.

The picture above (and detail right) is an embroidered christening cape, dating from the very early 1800s. I bought it years ago with the intention of selling it and then couldn't bring myself to let it go. It is so very beautiful, in silk and satin, embroidered with tiny, delicate but wholly realistic flowers. I found myself wondering all the time about the woman who might have made it. Who she was. What became of her. The result was a new novel called The Physic Garden, set in early 1800s Glasgow: a story of friendship, love and betrayal, much of it set in and around the 'physic garden' - the medicinal garden of the old college of Glasgow University. It will be published as an eBook before Christmas 2012 and as a paperback some time in 2013.

The Rocking Horse Man

The horse that came home again.

Years ago, when our son was born, my professional yacht skipper husband, Alan Lees, decided that he no longer wanted to be away from home for months on end. He didn't want to miss Charlie's baby years - all those milestones. Alan's last long trip was to the Canaries to skipper a charter yacht for the winter. The baby was six weeks old when we borrowed a small apartment in Los Cristianos on Tenerife. (It was a quieter place back then - not quite the extension of Las Americas it has since become.) I flew down with the baby in January and spent several months living there - blissfully - with Alan joining us whenever he could. My parents came for a couple of weeks and later on my mother-in-law joined us for another fortnight. I remember it as one of the happiest times of my life: warm and sunny, with a gorgeous and thriving new baby in a country where children were always welcome.

When we returned to Scotland - although Alan carried on working as a professional sailor from time to time, he was also looking for a way of working which would allow him to spend more time at home. He had always been artistic and creative, always been good with his hands and as a sailor he had undertaken a certain amount of shipwrighting work when and where necessary. So he became a woodcarver. Sometimes the two professions joined together in wholly unexpected ways as when this large carved monkey (left) was transported to Largs, for installation at Kelburn Country Park - by water!
I don't know where the idea of rocking horses came from, but I do remember his first attempt which was a rather basic outdoor horse that our son played with until it fell apart. After that, came a carved and painted pony, still going strong all these years later. It's a vintage item now and lives at the house of some friends where it was ridden by their four daughters and assorted visiting kids, our own son included, over many years.

Soon though, Alan was making the most wonderful carved sculptural horses: a string of them in oak and ash,  gessoed or polished wood, all with starry names: Rigel, Alpharatz, Andromeda, Cassiopeia, Pegasus, Orion, Sirius... we lost track of where they went, although Zuben'ubi, a huge and wonderful creature on bowed rockers, stayed at home and lives with us still.
Mostly they were commissioned by grandmothers, ostensibly 'for the grandchildren' - but people would quietly admit that they themselves had 'always wanted one.'
We didn't make any fortunes.
Horses are hard, heavy, time consuming and expensive to make and whatever Alan was paid was never enough to give him a decent hourly rate - but that's the nature of the arts and crafts sector.
People did, however, start to call him 'The Rocking Horse Man.'

Just how sad can an old horse get?

Advanced surgery

After a while, he began to be asked to restore old horses so - having researched the whole subject - he added this work to his portfolio. We're not really talking conservation here, since most of the time, there was little to conserve. These poor beasts were battered beyond recognition: worm eaten, tattered and torn, falling to bits, sometimes badly restored by well meaning individuals, covered in thick gloss paint and with plaited wool or rope manes and tails. One actually arrived as a bundle of sticks in a box. Often, they had lost a jaw. Another had been burned on a bonfire by the 'nice' people to whom it had been lent by its previous owner, and had been rescued only just short of total dissolution. That one - restored to its former glory as a surprise gift for a retired owner - provoked tears of joy, and almost made us cry as well!

Improving

A brand new horse, leaving in a horse box!

Now, two of these restored horses have come back to us. On both occasions, I saw them in a saleroom with a jolt of surprised recognition. One is small, one is very large, and both are Ayres horses: the Rolls Royce of rocking horses. The large one has a rare and unusual side saddle, and probably dates from the late Victorian or early Edwardian period. The smaller of the two is a bit newer - probably 1930s or 40s. Both of them were restored with a great deal of loving care. It's kind of sad to see them on the market again - but perhaps people simply didn't have the space. We're in the process of rehoming them - you can find them listed in our eBay shop, The Scottish Home.
Alan carved other items, of course, not just horses. He spent many years working on massive outdoor sculptures of all kinds. Sadly, crippling arthritis finally caught up with him and he can barely walk these days, let alone carve. Instead, he paints in acrylics - bright pictures, full of life and movement and human figures- indulging a love of colour which sculpture seldom permitted - except where these lovely cheerful rocking horses were concerned.

Antique Textiles, Scottish Islands and eBooks on Amazon Kindle

When the gorse is in bloom, kissing's in season.

As many readers of this blog probably know by now, I have two jobs although I'd find it hard to say which is the  'day job' because I'm fairly obsessive about both of them. I buy, collect and sell (when I can bear to let them go!) antique and vintage textiles of all kinds - and research and write about them whenever possible. But the other half or more of my time is spent writing mostly fiction, mostly novels as well as the occasional stage play. Two of those novels are set on small Scottish islands and in both of them, the landscape of the novel is an essential part of the story.

The first of them, The Curiosity Cabinet, was published in the conventional way first (you can still find the odd paperback copy on Amazon) but when it went out of print, the rights reverted to me, and last year I published it on Amazon's Kindle Store. You can find it here, if you're in the UK and here if you're in the US.

Gorgeous cover art by textile artist Alison Bell

This is essentially a historical novel, in which the troubles of the past are in some way resolved in the present. The gorgeous cover was made for me by my friend and mentor, Scottish textile artist Alison Bell - it's as beautiful as a piece of lace, and I'm eternally grateful to her for it! The Curiosity Cabinet will almost certainly be of interest to textile nuts like me, because the 'cabinet' in question is an embroidered, raised work Jacobean box, and there is also a certain amount of description of period costume within the novel.

My other 'Scottish Island' novel is called Bird of Passage. (Or look here, if you're reading this in the US) Dealing sensitively with the shocking realities of state-sanctioned physical abuse and its aftermath, this is a powerful story of cruelty, loss and enduring love. In 1960s Scotland, young Finn O’Malley is sent from Ireland to work at the potato harvest and soon forms a close friendship with Kirsty Galbreath, the farmer’s red-headed grand-daughter. But Finn is damaged by a childhood so traumatic that he can only recover his memories slowly. 
What happened at the brutal Industrial School to which he was committed while still a little boy? For the sake of his sanity, he must try to find out why he was sent there, and what became of the mother he lost. As he struggles to answer these questions, his ability to love and be loved in return is called into question. 






Why am I posting about all this on The Scottish Home now? Well, if you're reading this blog during the week beginning 7th May, you can download Bird of Passage to your Kindle - free - on Thursday 9th and Friday 10th May. And if you fancy reading The Curiosity Cabinet as well, I suppose that means you could get two novels for the price of one. Other books are available, especially my big new romantic historical novel set in Poland. It's called The Amber Heart and there's lots of lovely period costume detail in that one as well. I'd be grateful for any reviews, especially if you enjoy what you read. And please do spread the word to anyone else you think might be interested in these novels. And if you want to read a bit more about my 'other day job' have a look at my website: 

www.wordarts.co.uk. 

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Who is this Elegant Edwardian Gentleman?

This is a departure from my usual Scottish Home posts which tend to be about textiles, my other passion in life along with writing. And as regular readers will know, I quite often manage to combine the two, as in my novel The Curiosity Cabinet! As an interesting aside (well, interesting for textile and vintage nuts like me) when the Curiosity Cabinet was being prepared for its first publication as a paperback, rather than the Kindle edition, the publisher's editor queried my reference to 'bright Indian cottons' as anachronistic. It wasn't. It was about right for the time and place of the novel. She was fully entitled to query things she didn't understand, but this was one area in which I had done my homework, mostly because I'm fairly obsessed with such things!

However, this isn't a post about antique textiles, for a wonder, but instead, it's a post about antique and vintage... er... people. I buy lots of my textiles at auction, in various salerooms, as well as at antique markets, car boot sales and charity shops. But sometimes, I get a little more than I bargained for. This handsome chap - a head and shoulders portrait in oils - came with a bundle of very beautifully embroidered pictures - not hugely old, but well executed.  There is no name on it, and no signature either, but you can tell from the back of it that it's rather old and very nicely done. I mean he's a real person, isn't he? Unfortunately, I have no idea who he is - a Scottish Edwardian gentleman. He could be a politician, I suppose. He seems like a gentleman of consequence. Maybe he was an artist or an architect. Maybe he designed some of those splendid Glasgow buildings. If he was my great grandfather, I would want to know, but somebody cleared him out along with various household possessions, and put him up for auction in among a heap of other things. I'll probably try to 'rehome' him on my eBay shop. There are people out there who collect portraits even if they don't know who they are - although he's sustained a little damage over his years spent in somebody's attic, and could probably do with some professional cleaning. I like him though. I like his wide set eyes and that fine moustache!  Writers like this kind of thing - we're free to invent whatever we want, and that makes him intriguing. What do you think?

An Antique Honiton Lace Handkerchief

Isn't this beautiful? I knew that it was hand made bobbin lace, but thought at first that it came from Belgium, until a lace expert pointed out that it is, in fact, old hand made Honiton lace. I should have known, because I've been to the lovely lace museum there - on my honeymoon, a long time ago! It is as light as a feather and just as delicate, a will o' the wisp of a piece which must have taken a long time to make. The details of flowers and leaves and ferns, with tiny wheat-ears among them, is just stunningly lovely. I'm privileged to have been able to admire it for a while although I'm in the middle of 'rehoming' it now.

I love lace but don't feel that I know enough about it. If somebody in Scotland would organise a day's hands-on lace identification workshop, I would definitely sign up for it. There is nothing quite like seeing and touching the real thing. You can read a dozen reference books, and gaze at photographs until your eyes ache, but what you really need is somebody who knows all about a particular textile, the work itself and the history behind it - and you need to see and handle examples.

Some years ago, the Society of Authors in Scotland, of which I'm a member, organised a visit to the textile department of the Chambers Street Museum in Edinburgh - with a talk from the textile curator at the time. She had got a number of items out of storage and - as a very small professional group - we were allowed to look closely at them and handle them carefully. The linen shirt in particular made a huge impression on me. It was some 200 years old and as beautiful as the day it was made. Historical novelists like me often need to describe clothes and other textiles and researching these is - for me, anyway - one of my greatest pleasures in life.

Years ago, I also attended a talk about Ayrshire Whitework and now - with a small collection of this wonderful embroidery myself - I'm occasionally asked to do talks about its history to local and family history groups. I take a number of examples and allow people to handle them. The talks always go down very well, even with men, who generally arrive reluctantly, dragged along by their wives, and then realise that they are enjoying themselves. I don't want to do a lace making course. But I would really love to know more about bobbin and needlelace - not from a book, or a website, but from a real live expert!

Another Lovely Old Scots Sampler

I came across another lovely old Scottish sampler the other day, made by one Agnes Renwick Ballantyne in 1870. I love these samplers - they always lead me to speculate about the girls who made them. This one is very neat and still quite bright (I had to photograph it under glass, so it doesn't show up too well) with a characteristically Scottish 'strawberry border', cornucopias of flowers, two royal crowns and lots of family initials, including a D McD.

There's an excellent little book about Scottish samplers by Rebecca Quinton, the curator of costumes and textiles for Glasgow museums. It's called Patterns of Childhood. - specifically about the samplers from Glasgow Museums - and what very interesting samplers they are.

In fact Glasgow and its surrounding area is full of interest for textile devotees - visit The Burrell Collection for tapestries, and Jacobean raised work, as well as fascinating costumes. Go to the Kelvingrove Museum for some wonderful embroidery by Margaret MacDonald (Charles Rennie Mackintosh's wife).  Paisley has a museum stuffed with shawls. And if you want to go a little further afield, to Shambellie House outside Dumfries, you'll find a whole enchanting costume collection.

Our Belated but Beautiful Designer Burns Supper (And a Spooky Picture!)

The Rustic Supper Table

We hosted a somewhat belated Burns Supper in our house last weekend. Our friends, John and Brenda Kevan, travelled from their home in the North of England, (although John is very much an Ayr lad) with a car full of tartan throws, cushion covers, and various other textiles, candlesticks, lanterns, and half the greenery in the Lake District. A bit like carrying coals to Newcastle, remarked Brenda, bringing Scots pine to Scotland!
John and Brenda have been wedding photographers for much of their working life so far, but Brenda has always had an interest in antique and vintage interiors and crafts and has a huge talent for interior design. 
This is a skill which I hope and trust she is finally going to begin to exploit in a number of exciting ways. Watch this blog for some interesting links coming towards the end of this year. Brenda brings a little magic to even the smallest of projects. Her Christmas gifts, for example, are invariably wrapped so beautifully that you can hardly bring yourself to open them! But she can also work on a grander scale - as she did here, last week.

Brenda spent all day Friday and most of Saturday transforming this old cottage (built only a few years after the death of Robert Burns, and while Jean Armour was still very much alive) into a rustic idyll - a perfect setting for a Burns Supper. These pictures give only some idea of just how magical it was. One of our guests, a young German visitor, was particularly enchanted. The long dining table (we were hosting some eighteen guests) was adorned with one of my gorgeous old damask tablecloths - I've had this for years and can never bring myself to sell it. I think it came from a country house, since it's enormous and it has deer and pheasants in the weave. Brenda had made a subtle tartan runner, and matching napkins. There were home-made lanterns, with moss and tartan ribbons, as well as rustic wooden candlesticks, miniature pine trees, and tiny pine cones. Hand-made menu holders, with Burns' portrait, and place cards with pictures and manuscript completed the look.

Fireplace trimmed with greenery, roses, feathers. Note spooky 'orbs' on TV set!

For the rest of the house, she mixed red roses (of course) with a variety of greenery and pheasant feathers in a selection of my own large earthenware jugs and vases, as well as a few jars she had brought herself. There was a statue of the poet, a quill pen, piles of old books of his poetry and even a couple of facsimile manuscripts, as well as more lanterns and candles - in short, it was a magical transformation of this cottage. As another friend remarked - you almost expected Rab to show up himself! Well, if you look closely at the middle picture, of the old fireplace, you'll see a profusion of 'orbs' on the right, in front of the television. Of course it could just be the flash from the camera bouncing off the screen, but I have another picture taken from the same spot and with the same flashlight, with nothing showing. So who knows? Maybe he did!

Rab himself with facsimile manuscripts, quill etc

Spring Pruning

Late Springtime Shrubbery

Our still very wintry garden has been pruned to within an inch of its life. Actually, that isn't strictly true, and the wonderful local gardener who has done the work has made a fine job of it. But it won't really look right till the leaves start to come through - by which time everything will grow at such a rate that you won't be able to see exactly where the cutting has taken place.

We have a lot of mature shrubs and trees in our cottage garden, and there comes a time, every few years, when you really have to chop most things back a bit, otherwise no light gets in, leaves choke everything and nothing does very well.

At the same time, we're always very aware of the small birds at this time of the year, and their need for shelter, so when we arranged for the pruning, we left lots and lots of cover lower down, as well as feeding them with a good mixture of small seeds and other things in what I see Dobbie's Garden Centre is calling a 'Bird Abode' presumably a more up-market version of a Bird House.

All this, though, has lead me to reflect on the difference between men and women in their attitude to pruning. On the whole, men love to hack and chop while women like to snip about a bit, and generally conserve. The sight of somebody chopping down a tree, even if it is clearly diseased and dangerous, is always a bit painful to me. The only rows my husband I have ever had have been to do with pruning - and I have vivid memories of my lovely late mum and dad, always the most loving of couples, engaged in fairly furious rows about the way he had chopped down some of her cherished plants. In fact, I seem to remember mum chasing dad down the garden with a pair of shears. Men so often seek to control, where women are happy to allow a bit of chaos.

Which explains why my dear husband made me give specific instructions as to what I did and didn't want chopped down. With a bit of luck, all will be well by spring - everything has been carefully and beautifully done and nothing has been hacked at or vandalised. But it does look a bit sad out there.
All the same, there's more light in the garden while still leaving plenty of shelter for all the wildlife that comes to visit. Roll on spring.

Decking the Halls - Christmas Preparations

One of our Christmas cards for this year.

I've been in the garden today, cutting holly and ivy and fir branches so that I can 'deck the halls' - which in my case means putting big vases and earthenware jugs of greenery through the house. A cheeky robin followed me everywhere, just in case I disturbed anything he might want to eat.

We've set up a feeding station for small birds this year, with feeders especially designed for the little ones, and we've had lots and lots of customers. In fact now, we can hardly keep up to them and I'm going to have to go in search of more wild bird seed tomorrow!

We also got down the boxes of decorations from the loft  (what my dear husband calls 'the Christmas tat') and he has already made a good job of trimming the tree, which was delivered from a small local nursery on Friday morning - not sure what kind of tree it is - it's quite tall, about 6ft, and compact, with thick, upwards turning branches, like a partly furled umbrella and I think it may be a Fraser fir - whatever it is, it's very nice indeed and it didn't cost a fortune, even delivered.

The presents are almost all acquired - many from eBay, some from Amazon, some of them home made. There will be a wrapping marathon this week. I'm still writing Christmas cards, which we had made from my husband's artworks. I have more trimming up to do, a bit more shopping, but nothing too big or expensive, and some home baking to do as well. We don't have a terribly commercial Christmas here, but we seem to enjoy it all the more for that reason. Tonight, the Round Table organisation will be bringing Santa round on his sleigh, (pulled by a tractor of course - this is a farming area) and next week, a group of us will be carol singing round the doors, for charity. I love this gap in the year when there seems to be time to draw breath and focus on other things: not just friends and family, but my own writing. It's often a time when I sit and think, draft things out, play around with words, get ideas. By the time the New Year holiday is over (which goes on for quite a long time, in Scotland) I'm usually champing at the bit and ready to get on with things - but now, I'm looking forward to the warmth and candlelight and the scents of cinammon and cloves, and the sound of Christmas carols. Talking of which - I like to read A Christmas Carol every Christmas - this year, I've already downloaded it to my Kindle!

Intriguing Gifts and Stocking Fillers from The Scottish Home

It's a busy time of year for The Scottish Home - the few weeks before Christmas always gallop along and as anyone who runs a small online business knows, almost everyone decides to buy vintage gifts and stocking fillers at the last minute, and it's a struggle to keep up with listing and posting, especially when you live deep in the countryside as we do. Although I do remember selling a handful of items back in October, to buyers who told me they were already Christmas shopping!

Because I collect textiles and textile related things as well as selling them and because they sometimes figure in my fiction, I generally have a few shelves full of  pieces I haven't been able to bring myself to sell, all stored up in tissue paper and lavender. At this time of the year I'll dig them out, gloat over them a bit, and decide whether to keep, sell - or give as a gift. Many of my gifts this year will come from that cupboard - there are a few items I've been hoarding with friends in mind.

A few things, like a very beautiful Cantonese embroidered shawl which I bought for a song, earlier this year, will probably be kept and may even be worn, over the holiday period. The Georgian hand embroidered christening cape will have to stay where it is, since it figures in a new novel called The Physic Garden, which I'm planning to finish some time during 2012 and I may want to use it as a cover image. But some pieces are definitely scheduled for rehoming. This beautiful length of lace - strictly speaking it's embroidered net of some kind - possibly Limerick Lace although I'm not certain  - has been kept for years and I think the time has come for it to find a new home. It's quite badly damaged, with lots of holes in the net, but as you can see from the pictures, the actual floral motifs are wonderful - one for a lace collector, perhaps.

Last week, I bought a small box of antique table linen at auction which - considering that the work is so beautiful - had been dreadfully treated, crumpled, dusty, dirty, smelly and full of hideous brown stains. They look like old - very old! - tea and coffee stains. Some of it is already washed and ironed and waiting to be sold but the two best pieces were the most marked, and they are currently soaking gently. The last time I looked, the marks seemed to be fading. Fingers crossed I can restore them to their former glory. Linen is very forgiving, but many dealers won't spend the time it takes to get it right. I'll post some pictures on here if all goes according to plan.

A bit of a mystery - is this a picture of nineteenth century Oban?

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This picture has had a somewhat chequered history. I'm about to list it for sale in my online shop, but I'm still curious about it. We bought it some years ago, and it was a grim old oil painting with almost no details visible. It looked as though it had spent many years in a smoky environment and seemed to be pretty much caked with nicotine. (Anyone who has ever had any dealings with old pictures from homes where people smoke would think twice about taking up the habit!) You could see from the reverse side that it was very old - an old stretched canvas on a very old wooden frame

Eventually, we had it professionally cleaned, and saw that it was a very interesting old picture - unsigned and in a naive style. Sadly, then, disaster struck. We were having some work done in a room where the picture was stored and it was damaged. Now, my artist husband has repaired it beautifully, and it's very hard to see the damage, although you can see it from the reverse side.

We think it's Oban, but not Oban as we know it today. For a start. McCaig's tower, on the hill above the town, isn't there. This seems to be a thriving Victorian town, with high hills rising behind, and a busy harbour. You can see plenty of sailing boats, fishing cobles, and what looks like a steam powered herring drifter, with a red chimney. The fishermen would take their catch to these drifters, which could then transfer the fish to the big markets. 



The sailing boats are beautifully realised, very detailed and accurate. The picture has a strange vibrancy, the light in it is wonderful, and although it's by no means an 'old master', it has huge charm. As I say - we think it's probably Oban, although we did wonder about Tarbert, Loch Fyne. If anyone has a definitive answer, I'd be very glad if they would let me know! We'd also love to know when it was painted, and obviously, the clue to that would lie in the buildings that are, or are not, there. We suspect a date of about 1870s but that's just a guess. If you know better, do let me know.

St Mungo - A Mystical Picture

My husband, artist Alan Lees, completed this picture of Glasgow's 'patron saint', Mungo (or Kentigern as he is sometimes called) a few weeks ago. There's something really special about it - but I think it's probably the strangest image he has ever created. Mungo was a (late sixth century) holy man of the early celtic church, who built a church next to the Molendinar Burn - where the magnificent cathedral now stands - calling it his 'dear green place' which is the meaning of the name of the city.
His legend traditionally involves a bird, a tree, a bell and a fish.
Mungo restored life to the pet robin of Saint Serf, which had been killed by some of his fellow classmates, who were hoping to blame him for its death.
When left in charge of a fire in Saint Serf's monastery, he fell asleep and the fire went out. Taking branches from a tree, he restarted the fire.
The bell was said to have been used in services and to mourn the deceased - many holy men at the time had these 'square' bells to call the faithful to prayer.
Queen Languoreth of Strathclyde was suspected of infidelity by her husband. King Riderch who asked to see her ring, which he claimed she had given to her lover. In reality the King had thrown it into the River Clyde himself. She appealed for help to Mungo, who ordered a young man to catch a fish in the river. On opening the fish, the ring was miraculously found inside.
The bell, the bird, the fire - but not the fish - are all in Alan's picture. Presumably, the fish is still in the river! However you look at it, this is a strange and evocative piece of work.

Old Floor Tiles In Winchester Cathedral

This post has little to do with Scotland or homes, but when you're interested in antiques, just occasionally you find yourself completely smitten with love for some object or other. This summer, we found ourselves visiting Winchester Cathedral for the first time - a wonderful experience, especially for somebody like me who used to be a Mediaevalist to trade (I have an honours degree in Mediaeval Studies, from Edinburgh University) and is still to some extent a historian, although most of my interest tends to manifest itself in fiction, these days. The cathedral is - unlike some others - quite plain from the outside, (well, plain for a cathedral!) but the inside is amazing - full of light, air and beauty. But amid all the stone and woodcarving, the things I liked most of all, (well, other than the books, in the library, which were amazing!) were the floor tiles - this cathedral has the largest surviving area of Mediaval tiles in the UK, and there is something about the colours and patterns of these that is so enticing.

Look at the stars in the section above for instance? Why the seemingly haphazard arrangement? Did it have some significance? Or was it simply that some tiles wore away and had to be replaced? You can read about them and much more about this amazing floor, on a fascinating website here.

Apples, Apples and More Apples (And Some Grapes!)

It's that time of year again, and the venerable old apple tree at the bottom of our garden is full of fruit, and also keeping us well supplied with windfalls in the rough weather. Of which we have had far, far too much, this summer, here in the West of Scotland. The apples are, according to Nigel Deacon, who knows about these things, an old variety called Golden Noble, and wonderful for cooking. Naturally sweet, they turn fluffy when cooked and are fabulous in pies and jams and cakes. The longer you keep them, the more they live up to their name and turn a gorgeous pale golden colour: a noble fruit indeed!

We also have a grape vine, with the root outside, and the fruit under glass, which produces lots of sweet black grapes each year, and this year is no exception.

Most of them aren't quite ripe yet, and we could do with a bit more sunshine over the coming week, which we are seemingly going to get, so we'll be donating some to the village shop, as soon as possible.

Meanwhile, I've been doing rather a lot of apple cooking! We have frozen several boxes of blanched apples, and I've made several jars of a low sugar preserve, with apples, plums (from a friend in Oxfordshire) and a few strawberries thrown in for good measure, boiled up with some sugar, but not as much as you would put in jam. This has made a gorgeous pale pink 'butter' which is now stored in the fridge, in jars - it doesn't keep for more than a couple of months, but we'll have finished it by then.

I've made apple pudding, with suet pastry, and apple pie, and I'm planning an Eve's pudding for some mid-week visitors, sponge baked on top of stewed apple, which I always associate with my lovely late mother-in-law who made so many delicious traditional puddings.  But today, I made a scrumptious Apple Potato Cake, following a recipe from an old book called Talking About Cakes With an Irish and Scottish Accent, by Margaret Bates. This is one of those much loved cookery books that I've had for years. There are recipes written in the back from when I was a teenager, and it's quite nostalgic to look at them, all these years later.

According to Margaret Bates, this dish is from Armagh and the recipe is quite vague, but certainly works. One of those marvellous recipes that turns unpromising ingredients into something magical. You take a quantity of cold mashed potato (leftovers are ideal) and mix it with some fine, plain flour and a little melted butter. I used about four rounded tablespoons of flour to about a quarter kilo or half a pound of mashed potato. There are no hard and fast measurements, but it should be a soft, pliable dough, like a soft pastry. Divide it in two, and roll each piece into a circle. Finely chop some cooking apple - enough to make a good thick layer - spread it on one circle, top with the other and pinch the edges together, so that it makes a big 'cake'. Cook this very slowly on an old fashioned 'girdle' - but a good, heavy non-stick pan will do the same job - oiled with a little butter. Turn it over half way through the cooking - easiest to do this by sliding it onto a plate and then flipping it back onto your pan. It takes about 15 - 20 minutes. When you think it is almost cooked, and the apple is beginning to bubble, lift the lid a little, sprinkle with brown sugar and dot with a little butter, lower the lid and leave for a few more moments. Serve very hot. If you add the sugar too soon, it will spill over your pan and caramelise.

Eat it immediately. Then make another. So many apples, at this time of the year, that it's justified!

Absolutely Gorgeous Printed Silk Gauze Paisley Shawl

I could hardly believe it, when I saw this amazing shawl hanging up in the saleroom. It's a printed paisley shawl in finest silk gauze, as light as a feather and probably dating from the 1840s or 50s. It's very very long, with the colours as fresh and warm as the day it was made,  and clearly designed to be worn over a crinoline, but probably for evening wear. There's no warmth in it, only great beauty. The lady who wore it must have considered herself fortunate to possess such a fabulously beautiful item. I hope it was a gift from somebody she loved! These are rare items. They come along once in a blue moon, for the simple reason that they are so fragile, so featherlight, that they didn't often survive. This one has a few - but only a few - faults - a few places where the silk has worn a little thin, where the slight weight of the fringe has tugged at the fragile silk threads, but to be honest, these are small matters. It's the kind of textile that gives your heart a little lift when you see it - the kind of textile that makes the whole business of trying to source and rehome these wonderful old things, so often women's things, as I point out in my novel, The Curiosity Cabinet, so very much worth while! Gathering this up gently, touching it, is like touching a little bit of the past.



Intriguing Old Scottish Sampler

I came across this sampler in our local saleroom in the West of Scotland, and am currently listing it in my eBay shop, here.  It is naive, not especially old or neat, but charming and very intriguing indeed.  It was made by one Maggie Blackhall in 1887 and from the look of it, I reckon she was quite a little girl. As well as the more usual alphabets, the house, a tree - with a nice red bird sitting on top of it - a characterful cat and various match-stick figures, there is a sailing ship.The ship (detail below) has its name stitched under it although half the name is obliterated by the frame.

It is, however, unmistakably the Lusitania. Most of us equate that name with the ship which was sunk in 1915, but this was clearly a much older Lusitania - a clipper of some sort. A little online research reveals that a ship called The Lusitania arrived in Albany, Australia, in November of 1887, sailing from London. She had only twelve passengers which suggests that she was a cargo ship of some kind. I couldn't find young Margaret Blackhall anywhere online, but the sampler was sourced here in Scotland and the Blackhall family of Greenock were associated with shipping - there is still a West Blackhall Street close to the waterfront, in that town. It was at this point, of course,that my novelist's imagination started to work overtime! Why was Maggie Blackhall sewing a picture of the ship into her sampler, early in 1887? Was somebody she loved very much - an elder brother perhaps - setting sail on the Lusitania? What became of him? What became of her, for that matter? And did she ever see him again?  These are the kind of questions writers always find themselves asking, and it is in this way that stories are born!

Gorgeous Shawls, Tartan and Early Edinburgh

This week, in my ebay shop, I'm listing a couple of amazing and very old shawls - great textile and costume survivals. One is - as you can see from the picture - a beautiful old tartan crinoline shawl. The craze for tartan probably originated with Queen Victoria who loved all things Scottish (including, allegedly, John Brown!) The shawl is such beautiful colours, although it has bits of damage in the shape of moth holes and a couple of little tears, here and there. But something to be treasured, all the same.

 And the second shawl of the week is this delicately beautiful paisley patterned Kashmir style shawl but I'm told that this one is, in fact, a very early Edinburgh hand woven shawl, from about 1820. I hardly ever find something so old and so beautiful, so it's really exciting for me, and my imagination is working overtime on it! I can feel some stories coming on.  It's square, designed for a slimmer silhouette than a crinoline and when I think about it, it dates from the time when this cottage was newly built. The woven border is delicate and intricate and floral while the soft fabric itself is very fine with a wonderful sheen to it.

When you look at the back, (see picture below) you can see that the weaving technique is quite different from later paisley shawls. Amazing and moving to find something which has survived for almost 200 years in reasonably good condition. And something which would have been worn not long after the death of Robert Burns. Which could even have been worn - for example - by Nancy McLehose, Burns' Clarinda, in her later years.

Brenda's Beautiful Fruit Sculpture

We hosted a summer barbecue in our garden yesterday. It started at 2 in the afternoon and finished at about 11 o'clock at night so it was a busy, sociable day. Since barbecue food is quite rich, I'd bought masses of fresh fruit, especially strawberries and stone fruits such as greengages and apricots, and when my friend Brenda Kevan, who was staying with us over the weekend, asked if she could do something, I suggested that she make a fruit sculpture, using a beautiful big turned wooden bowl that Alan bought me a while ago. Here it is:

Isn't it beautiful?



Brenda, incidentally, is absolutely brilliant at interior design and all kinds of associated 'vintage' things. She and her husband John have worked as wedding photographers for many years, and very good they are too, but I think Brenda's first love has always been design - creating a 'look' just for pleasure. Whenever you get a gift from Brenda, it will be beautifully wrapped and embellished with some wonderful and original little extra. One Christmas, for instance, all our gifts had small, flat beach pebbles with our names and the year written on them. I have them still, tucked into my Christmas pot pourri. She has made a design paradise of a little studio at the bottom of her garden in Lancashire, and her house is full of fascinating corners and collections including an outdoor 'room' where - whenever we're visiting - we eat and drink in inspiring surroundings. She's so full of excellent ideas that I always think it's a shame that she doesn't do this kind of design full time. I suspect if given the opportunity, she would be able to provide material (and illustrations) for a dozen interesting books!