Landscapes – The Gallery

It’s taken me ages to work it out, I’ve tried living on the seafront in Brighton, on the flat in Hull and Nottingham, in the smoke in Streatham, but the only landscapes that make me truly happy are hilly ones.

This is Cheshire, on the edge of the Peak District where I grew up.  It’s the hill my mum scattered her mum’s ashes on, and where we scattered hers.  Despite the connection to my family, I still don’t think I have ever found a landscape that feels so much like home.  Forests, cities, seasides, they’re great, but they make me feel like a tourist.  Suburbia makes me feel stifled.  A hill though, it makes me feel on top of the world, I can see for miles, literally and metaphorically, even when it’s foggy and the sun is setting.

What about you?  What landscapes make you feel at home?  The theme at The Gallery is landscapes this week.

Week to view

I have to say documenting our lives in pictures has become quite addictive. I’m loving it, particularly the excuse to use mundane photos because they capture important stuff. As a media teacher I was always fascinated by the amount of time we spend artificially creating a ‘representation’ of life in image and film.  Hence I have a thing for the photos people try to delete.  Unless they are really really rubbish of course.

Top row L-R Trip to the beautiful Rufford Abbey, lovely walks, my shadow waving in an attempt not to be erased from family photo history.  The first snowdrops, which will forever be bittersweet in that they remind me of losing my mum, but beautiful.  A rather nice sculpture.

The arrival of our child sponsorship pack from Action Aid, more on that later this week.  Emotional and exciting in equal measure.  My daughter drawing a picture for the child we sponsored.

Bottom row L-R tickets for the fabulous children’s theatre, Goldilocks at Lakeside Arts.  I am loving being a blogger in residence.

Mr G building a space machine to get to the moon (paper lampshade). Must finish that kid’s book I started on that very matter.

Baking Valentine’s heart shaped cookies last Monday, unfortunately Mr A was delayed and when he got home on Thursday, they’d all gone, but we’d made jam tarts instead.

Miss L trying to entice a Robin to feed off her hand at Attenborough Nature reserve.  It so nearly did too.

I’ve been talking on Lazy Daisy radio about my experiences of birth and parenting this week, and writing for Lazy Daisy about how children change your friendships.

Have a fab week and did you know you can link up your pics with The Boy and Me of a Sunday?

Who’s been sleeping in my bed?

This afternoon we went to see some fab children’s theatre, Little Angel’s interpretation of Goldilocks at Lakeside Arts in Nottingham.  The story is told with song and puppets. It was an excellent reminder for me of why I take my kids to the theatre, and why children’s theatre matters.

I became really aware this afternoon of a gulf in how my two view what they see.  My son is 3 and still inhales theatre on a very sensory level, it makes him smile and chuckle and belly laugh like nothing else. Those moments in theatre happen to me as an adult too, but as adults I think we find it much harder to turn our analytical brain off. That’s why I love watching him watching theatre.

Something about the way the wooden bear puppets played with their toy cars, the way they danced and the way the performers made them behave, really tickled him.  He wasn’t alone, the boy in the seat in front cried when the bears left at the end of the show and could only be coerced to leave the theatre by the promise of meeting one of them as they waved the children goodbye at the exit.

My ponderings on whether furry bear puppets would have been more magical were quickly dismissed, there’s no need to patronise children’s ability to imagine, as children’s theatre of this calibre recognises. Children are forever creating stories out of whatever they have to hand. My son clambered up on his chair as baby bear escaped to the back of the auditorium and chatted away confidently to him as a performer brought him past our row of seats.  There was none of the fear of puppets children often experience from any of the children in the audience. They completely believed in the bears.

My son bobbed along to the music, a mix of blues and soul inspired songs sung beautifully by the two performers. He even tugged at my husband’s arm to nod and smile his approval.

My daughter is five and becoming aware of theatre on a new level.  That’s both a little bit sad, in that she’s not spellbound in the childlike way the 3yo is, but she’s fascinated in the mechanics, which I love.  She’s becoming aware of set ‘I think those boxes are the bears house’, scene changes ‘Is it an advert Mummy?’ (*cringe*), interpretations ‘It isn’t told like the usual story’ and conventions ‘Is the puppet Goldilocks?’

I heard several older children asking where Goldilocks was, expecting the fair skinned, human, golden haired version rather than a dark skinned puppet with jet black plaits threaded with gold; I really liked the way the performance effortlessly challenged these perceptions of race and representation with such a young audience. The piece is rich with a range of multicultural influences from costume, to music, to set, to characterisation.

Little Angel theatre are based in London and are one of only 3 building based theatre companies in England to specialise in puppetry. As well as performances in their Islington theatre they have up to 3 shows touring the country at once, click on the link if you want to find a Little Angel show near you.  Goldilocks is continuing its tour around the UK.

I love theatre because it communicates on so many levels, many of them subconcious.  I love theatre because it’s live, and it’s shared by a group of people.  I’m not religious but theatre is one of the ways I instill a sense of ceremony, ritual and spirituality in my children, as humans have been doing for thousands of years.  Oh and afterwards you can’t beat a hot chocolate, a cake, a walk and a play in Highfields Park, the stunning grounds of Nottingham University.

Disclosure  - I’m parent blogger in residence at Lakeside Arts and received tickets in exchange for my impartial review of this production.

How safe is your work?

Once as a teacher I had a guillotine thrown at me. A very literal ‘off with her head’.  I was on reflection, being incredibly annoying in teenager terms, I wanted overdue coursework finished there and then, plus I dodged the guillotine, doubly annoying for the child involved, but lucky for both of us. Continue reading

Global citizens Little Legacy 30

I’ve written previous Little Legacies, about how mum inspired my love of a nature and encouraged me to champion charities helping the developing world.  This week I’m thinking about how I am going to carry those little legacies on.

It seems strange to start a post about Action Aid by referring to the World Wildlife fund, but bear with me (no pun intended), one little legacy informs another here.

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Thirsty?

Why do we drink?  To wind down, to wind up, because others do, because they don’t. because it’s early, because it’s late, because we’re celebrating, because there’s nothing to celebrate, to make friends, to forget enemies, to feel invincible, to feel numb, because we’re stressed, because we’re bored.

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Gatecrashing a crow funeral

Crows

I’m back on the running.  I got back up to 5k last week and it was actually pretty enjoyable, apart from gatecrashing a crow funeral.  Yes, after outing myself as a bit of a twitcher here a few weeks ago (yeah, I know, I am so cool), I thought a bird related tangent would be appropriate.

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Dream holiday

I don’t talk about Mr A much, I think some things are sacred.  But this week I am breaking that rule slightly.  Relationships are tough after kids, and it’s important to be honest about that.  Currently Mr A works away in the week, in another city.  The big plan is to join him and not just be a family at weekends, but that stuff takes time. Continue reading

The Decluttering Mantra.

Have nothing in your houses that you do not know to be useful or believe to be beautiful

William Morris

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