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In praise of tweeting

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View from Bradlow Hill, with the town of Ledbury in the distance

View from Bradlow Hill

It struck me while I was walking up Bradlow Hill and into Frith Wood that though I meet people walking in the opposite direction, that is, coming towards me, I wonder if they meet people other than me. Because most people will sensibly choose the way that offers least effort, the one with a slow ascent into the woods and then the downhill walk along Bradlow Hill – I think I’m one of the few who do it the hard way, and that subsequently people get to see my face hoving into view more than others.

A carpet of bluebells amongst the trees in Frith Wood.

Bluebells in the Frith

The reason I do it is for the reward of the view after the exercise, and as an indicator of how the ageing process is coming along. Legs get heavier with age. One of the walkers I met in the wood was a lady from Winchester who used to live in Malvern, but who comes to the Frith once a month to walk and relax. She said it uncluttered her mind and helped her relax – the quiet, the bluebells (see above), the birdsong and the relative wildness (compared to Winchester). Blackbirds, blue tits, black caps, chiff chaffs, a song thrush and a pheasant all contributed to calming the mind on this occasion. Birdsong should certainly be prescribed by doctors to treat mental health conditions, such as certain types of anxiety. Perhaps not the pheasant, they make strange metallic calls – the Pavarottis of the bird world they’re not.

Recently on BBC Radio 4 there was an intriguing programme by Sacha Dench on the plight of one of the world’s most persecuted birds, the vulture. However misunderstood they are (and they are), they shouldn’t be included in the doctors’ prescription: they make raspy, hissing sounds while feeding and fighting, along with grunting noises that can sound like hungry pigs or dogs barking in the distance. Luckily there aren’t any in Frith Wood or the Ledbury area.

Greater Stitchwort – Frith Wood is full of them.

Last week in Wales, on a family visit, I heard a Grasshopper Warbler for the first time. Its high, grasshopper-like song is usually what gives it away. Even when you hear one it can be difficult to locate it because of the way it throws its song. My daughter could hear it clearly, but it took me a while to catch the sound – it turns out that as we get older the first part of the hearing to deteriorate is the exact pitch the grasshopper warbler sings at. Sad to think most of us will stop hearing them at some stage in our lives, so I’m glad it happened. It’s a Red List species, and thus very rare. Click here to see a picture of one.

Cooee vase. Nothing to do with birds.

Here at Peter Arscott Ceramics we have sometimes been asked about birds and ceramics. Specifically, does bird poop affect outdoor ceramics, like birdbaths, for example. The answer is no, the vitrification of the glaze firing protects the ceramic from the acidity of the bird droppings. Research by PCA reveals that birds don’t have the same level of control over their sphincter muscles as humans or other mammals. This means they can’t hold their waste, leading to seemingly random pooping. These are the sort of facts you learn in this blog.

Stoneware vase with upturned handles looking like spindly arms. Painted orange with big green dots.

Polka dot vase

Whilst we’re on the subject, pooping while in flight is a way for birds to lighten their load and conserve energy, especially for longer flights. And they often have preferred areas for pooping, such as where they spend time or find food. They might poop on a garden bench, or near their nest, or, of course, on your head or your car, which is why it’s good there are no vultures in Ledbury.

green, ochre and grey striped vase with skewed handles

Verde vase

Pablo Picasso used birds in his work, from the early paintings of pigeons roosting which can be seen at the Picasso Museum in Barcelona, to the famous dove of peace drawing. He also used them in his ceramics, both sculpturally and as motifs, as on this earthenware dish from the 1950s.

Limited edition of Picasso plate with white adobe bird painted on black background.

Picasso bird

And thus, we finally come to ceramics (“About time”, says Spiro. “And why did you have to mention bird poop?”).

Architectural ceramic piece made up of horizontal and vertical slabs

Construct 1.

PAC’s creative juices are flowing in all directions. Although we are still in love with the basic idea of the vessel, or vase, as the basis for most work, the lure of the sculptural possibilities in ceramics often takes us down different paths. Using grogged stoneware clay, which lends itself to modelling, this large structural piece took shape after careful and deliberate work with weight and balance – remember that once in the kiln and at a temperature of 1200℃, a clay piece can easily flop about and collapse, depending on weight distribution.

Big Hugging vase

On the other hand, and as a contrast (in character it is almost the opposite of the previous piece), this next one (above) was made in one session with no preparation or planning, and turned out in the shape it did, still retaining some practical use – you could possibly wash a small baby in it –  but definitely pulling towards appearance for its own sake.

Swirl vase

We’ve been producing “spontaneous” ceramics for a while – it’s not something new that PAC has stumbled on. The Swirl vase (above) came out of the studio in 2017. The Tutti Frutti jug (below) is from 2018.

Tutti Frutti jug

Going back to the subject of birdsong and tranquility (not again!), the edge of the Frith was flecked with the white bloom of the hawthorn. Its flowers, typically white or pink, bloom in spring, often around May, giving rise to the name “Mayflower”, but its antispasmodic and nerving actions make it suitable for anxiety or nervous tension – it is also sacred to the fairies and is therefore considered unlucky to bring indoors.

image of hawthorn tree in full bloom in May

Mayflower

We do keep a bird indoors in the studio. He is Murphy the Mallard and he’s always quacking jokes: Two vultures were eating a dead comedian. One looks to the other and says, “Does this taste funny to you?”

Ceramic mallard duck made by a child

Murphy says bye

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

April showers bring more than flowers.

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The art of walking on sludge requires you to walk bow-legged and on bent knees, leaning forward if going uphill, so that by the time you reach CJ’s bench at the top of Bradlow Hill your thighs ache like a ballerina’s after five consecutive performances of Swan Lake.  By the way, someone has left a nice pair of gloves that are now wedged between the slats waiting for their owner.

England’s sewage system

The rain has been relentless in this part of the world, making the ground as soft as chocolate fondant, delaying planting and seeding by farmers, flooding many areas, reducing oxygen in the soil (think of the poor worms) and forcing water companies to allow sewage into the rivers – this last revolting image the direct result of the privatisation of water and the neglect of any control over “market forces” in the guise of hedge funds. The result is priority for shareholders’ dividends over proper investment in upgrading an outdated system that can no longer cope with the zillion turds we produce daily. Enough moaning.

Bluebells in Frith Wood

Despite the muddy pathway into Frith wood, I ventured in, knowing that you would want proof that at least some things are still as they should be. What with Ukraine, Gaza, climate change, polarized politics, and all the rest of the present gloom fest, it’s good to know that the bluebells are with us, and the wood anemones.

Anemones

On my way out of the woods I passed by a large patch of forget-me-nots. The Greek name Myosotis is a combination of “mus” and “otis” and means “mouse ear”, referring to the shape of the leaves. I’m posting the image because they are beautiful delicate blue flowers with a yellow eye and grey-green velvety leaves, and they are vibrant, heart-warming and make one smile – a reminder of a friend who is no longer with us.

Ceramics: the good news is that the new kiln is now up and running, and a first batch of vases has been glaze-fired successfully.

Big Yoohoo vase just out of the new kiln

The kiln is a Rohde front-loader called Helmut – very efficient and accurate, with a good work ethic.

Introducing Helmut.

He is extremely heavy and here I must give thanks to Steve whose knowledge of cantilevered engineering worked a treat when we moved H into position. He deserves a medal and should any of you be interested in acquiring or finding out about medals of the Great War then Steve, professional military history researcher that he is, is your man. Click here to visit his sight. So far, Helmut seems to get along with the rest of the team – it’s all change here with the introduction of Shinto the Pugmill too.

Thelonious undone.

Spiro and Ziggy are very sad that Thelonious (the old pugmill) is no longer here, and were upset to see him being loaded onto the back of a lorry by a forklift truck to be taken to the (gulp) scrapyard.

Spiro and Ziggy making a scene

It seems that nobody wants anything requiring three-phase power. If anybody is looking for an inverter designed to drive a three-phase induction motor, please get in touch – this one is an IMO iDrive2 XKL.

While writing this blog, news arrived from local MP Jesse Norman that the government has published the River Wye action plan, with up to £35 million in new funding, setting out a wide range of measures to address phosphate pollution and other environmental impacts on the Wye. It has also appointed a new River Champion for the river. All this could lead to a properly funded single collective long-term effort bringing all groups together. That’s a good result and, who knows, it may even be the first step towards the eventual re-nationalization of water.

Back to ceramics.

Stockpiling at PAC.

Here is an architectural piece made from left-overs from the slab roller. It would look better if it were 10ft high.

And before I finally abandon the issue of what can be found bobbing on the surface of our rivers:

  • What is brown and sticky?
  • A stick.

Have a good Spring.

Potters and solitude

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The view from Bradlow Knoll

Trudging up Bradlow Hill I noticed that the mayflower was in full bloom. What we call “mayflower” is actually hawthorn, a pagan symbol of fertility with ancient associations with May Day, and its blossoming marks the point at which spring turns into summer. This was a cheering thought, as a large vase destined for a gallery had cracked in the kiln the day before and one’s mind needed some distraction.

Mayflower

In the studio, the radio is always on, in part to accompany the ongoing work and to fend off any feelings of aloneness, though there is nothing wrong with a bit of solitude when making vases. As regular readers of this blog know, my team consists of Ziggy (a spider), Thelonious (a pugmill) and Saint Spyridon, (third century Bishop of Trimythous in charge of marketing) – all of them, possibly, not real.

Leaf vase

An important factor in converting aloneness into solitude is that it is voluntary, instead of imposed. As such, it becomes a creative and productive state. It helps concentration, but sometimes it can get to people. For example, a researcher at a station in Antarctica stabbed a colleague (non-fatally), though this may have happened because the victim was giving away the endings of books the attacker was reading.

Antartica. Photo Giuseppe Zibardi

This information is being given out freely by Peter Arscott Ceramics (PAC) because only the other day, seated alone at the workspace and eating a banana, a small unhappy voice was heard in the studio. Looking down at the banana in hand I noticed that it was looking up at me. Don’t tell me that’s not the saddest little world-weary face you’ve seen in a while.

Unhappy

“You shouldn’t be eating me, you know.”

“Is that why you look so sad?”

“No. It’s just that the monoculture production methods used to grow us can destroy entire ecosystems.  I bet you didn’t realize that the banana industry consumes more agrochemicals than any other in the world, except cotton.’

“Well I never.”

“And the low prices paid by supermarkets and the cost cutting by fruit companies as they relocate in search of cheaper labour, and the harsh conditions in plantations…’

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Yes, and none of the other fruit in the fruit bowl talk to me.”

Wormery

Despite feelings of guilt, I finished off the banana, then chopped up the skin and fed it to the inhabitants of the PAC wormery alongside the studio. At least they don’t talk to me, and the skin was put to good use.

Green wobble vase

Back on Bradlow Hill, my mind filled with images of cracked pots, Puritans on the Mayflower, talking bananas and Antarctic research stations, these gradually faded away as the birdsong in the wood took over. I recorded some for you – the loudest is probably a robin, some blackbirds and a chiff chaff, as well as a distant ambulance on its way to Worcester Hospital. You’ll need full volume to get all that.

Click here: birdsong

The bluebells were past their pomp, but the stitchwort was flecking the undergrowth with white, and there was a lot of campion in the hedgerows.

Stitchwort

In parts of Africa the campion is used by Xhosa diviners: the roots are ground, mixed with water, and beaten to a froth, which is consumed by novice diviners during the full moon to influence their dreams.

Campion

Given that this type of campion cannot be found in Herefordshire, PAC recommends buying a good bottle of Ribera del Duero instead. The better the wine, the sweeter the dream. Perhaps the resulting pot, a very impractical and possibly useless wine decanter, is the result.

Droop decanter

Still on the subject of wine, over-consumption of the grape, even if it’s the Queen of Grapes, Tempranillo, can lead to moments of euphoria to be followed the next day by terrible remorse and anguish. In an unusual attempt at public information and to highlight the issue of the seductive lure of alcohol and its consequences, PAC would like to introduce the following piece:

Saturday night, Sunday morning vase

Psychoceramics is the study of crackpot ideas about human behaviour – get it? “Crack pots”?  (Also, Psycho Ceramics were a range of novelty ceramics made by US-based Kreiss company and manufactured in Japan between the 1960s and 1970s). However, PAC would like to associate the word with the more subtle art of depicting the mind or mental processes – psykho, (Greek) meaning “the soul, mind, spirit, or invisible animating entity which occupies the physical body”. PAC would like to think that the above is an example of psychoceramics, as is the next one:

Why? Perhaps because it is a “personality”. Whereas other pieces may highlight a particular colour to effect, or hint at landscape, or get across the idea of spring, or even jazz music, others have their own particular and less easily described temperament which is a bit more than just the sum of its shape, colours and brushstrokes. For example, we like the following piece because it’s a gentle play on a grid and geometrical shapes – it’s attractive enough, but what it offers is essentially decorative:

What do you think, dear reader? Is PAC barking up the wrong tree? Is it all too subjective for a theory? Have we been talking to fruit too often? Can bananas ever look happy? Did you know that the Latin name for banana is musa sapientum, which translates as fruit of the wise men? Please send us your thoughts.

psychoceramic or articeramic?

Goodbye, May

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rain clouds over Ledbury

When I went for a long walk up to Bradlow Knoll and beyond, the day had decided to let rip and unload all of its stored water down onto Frith Wood and onto the lone walker struggling along its already slimy paths. It meant that all one’s concentration was on not slipping, rather than on looking around at the flora and fauna, so these images were taken towards the end of the trudge, when the clouds parted, and the path was level.

bluebells

It turns out that on Friday 21 May , the UK experienced 91% of its expected rainfall for the entire month, with approximately 63.5mm having already fallen. The wettest May on record was in 1967, when 131.7mm of rain fell across the month.

buttercup

It is not the first time the UK has experienced unusual weather this year. April was the frostiest on record, with an average of 13 days of air frosts reported for the UK, topping the 11 days seen in April 1970. Last year, the UK experienced its sunniest spring and driest May since records began with 626 hours of bright sunshine recorded for the UK, exceeding the previous high (555 hours, set in 1948) by more than 70 hours.

bumblebee and bugle

As May transitions into June, we can only hope for dry sunny weather, though the British are, by and large, wary of getting carried away, and will have nurtured low expectations in order not to let disappointment overwhelm them. Is this why, when we go abroad to guaranteed sunshine, and we know we needn’t harbour any circumspection, we allow our inner buoyancy to bubble up and take over? This would explain the uncontrolled alcohol intake, the flippant balcony jumping, the skin-flaking sunburns, the nudity and cross-dressing, the dread of going back home.

The weather and the Brits. What would we talk about without it? It helps us overcome our social inhibitions, but there are rules when conducting these weather-related conversations. Firstly, the topic will almost always be introduced as a form of question and the person answering must agree, otherwise it is quite a serious breach of etiquette. Go on, try it out next time someone says “Cold, isn’t it?” and you say “No.”

dandelion don’t tell no lies. Click here

As for pottery, weather plays a part too. When freshly-made pieces are drying, the dry part will pull on the wet and crack the pottery prior to firing. The best way to avoid this is to dry everything in the shade, but since a humid or wet climate ensures that the pottery will retain its moisture, even after a week, it is best to give the pottery an extra week or even two – the longer the better.

slow dry

And to make sure it dries evenly during the first few days, a plastic bag over each piece is a good idea, otherwise you find parts that are attached to the main body dry too fast and hairline fractures only become bigger visible cracks after the final firing.  This can be deeply disheartening when you’ve put all your energy into one vase in particular, only to discover the fracture after the final hurdle. I’m sure it explains why so many potters turn to drink.

more bluebells

Going back 107 years to June 1914, I see that the month was cool and unsettled, alternating with dry, warm and sunny conditions. On the 8th the maximum temperature was only 13.4°C., and a severe thunderstorm, with hail, produced over 33mm of rain on the 14th. There were many dry and fairly sunny days during the second half of June, and during the last few days of the month it became increasingly warm, and eventually hot. On the 30th, it was sunny all day and the afternoon temperature reached 29°C.

Edward Thomas photo by Frederick Evans

I mention this because this was precisely the weather the poet Edward Thomas was remembering when he wrote “The sun used to shine”. It was the summer he and Robert Frost spent together in the Ledbury area, one of the great literary friendships which ended with Thomas’s death at Arras in 1917. I like to think they took the same paths along the Frith wood, as many of us here still do – they were great walkers. Despite my best research, they do not seem to have any particular interest in ceramics, even though the only difference between poetry and pottery is a “t”.

“Frost’s footfall” is an essay I have written about the two for The Common, a literary organisation based at Amherst College that publishes writing that embodies particular times and places, and where Robert Frost taught for forty years. Click here to read it.

 

The Ledbury Poetry Festival has been going for 25 years, and this July (2 – 11) will be offering us digital encounters with poets such as Margaret Atwood, Jorie Graham, Andrew McMillan, Jackie Kay, Fred D’Aguiar, Billy Collins, Fiona Sampson, as well as Mexican, Zimbabwean, Chinese, Slovakian and Belarusian voices, and puppetry, a poetry sweet shop, bingo, an interactive digital poetry trail…. Click here for more details.

betony – the stateliest of small flowers

 

The sun used to shine while we two walked

Slowly together, paused and started

Again, and sometimes mused, sometimes talked

As either pleased, and cheerfully parted

 

Each night. We never disagreed

Which gate to rest on. The to be

And the late past we gave small heed.

We turned from men or poetry

 

To rumours of the war remote

Only till both stood disinclined

For aught but the yellow flavorous coat

Of an apple wasps had undermined;

 

Or a sentry of dark betonies,

The stateliest of small flowers on earth,

At the forest verge; or crocuses

Pale purple as if they had their birth

 

In sunless Hades fields. The war

Came back to mind with the moonrise

Which soldiers in the east afar

Beheld then. Nevertheless, our eyes

 

Could as well imagine the Crusades

Or Caesar’s battles. Everything

To faintness like those rumours fade—

Like the brook’s water glittering

 

Under the moonlight—like those walks

Now—like us two that took them, and

The fallen apples, all the talks

And silence—like memory’s sand

 

When the tide covers it late or soon,

And other men through other flowers

In those fields under the same moon

Go talking and have easy hours.

 

moonpot

Free ceramic pieces

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Hello all. Those of you who live near the studio can help yourselves to a ceramic piece if you are passing by the house. As you can see from the view from The Homend, all you have to do is climb four steps and take a vase or bowl. They are all rejects – some have hairline cracks, others are wonky , some cannot stand up straight and some are plug ugly. They are all frost proof and can be used in the garden.

Address: Oakland House, The Homend, Ledbury HR8 1AP. There will be a donation yoghurt pot – all proceeds will go to CUP Ceramic Community in Hereford

help yourself

The winner of the three legged bowl (see previous blog) identified three birds correctly: great tit, blue tit, cock pheasant. The fourth was a black cap. The winner is a Mr A.Lloyd of London. Well done.

ankle-deep in bluebells (Part 2)

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Frith Wood

I apologize for this second blog in one month but, you see, I never know how many people read this, so, when somebody actually makes contact (info@peterarscott.co.uk) I am taken by surprise. Anna got in touch after the last one; she is a potter in Manchester who lives in a small flat in the city and she liked all the references to the countryside, mainly because, for her, the outdoors are inaccessible at the moment and she enjoyed the pictures of Frith Wood and even found my comments acceptable, and not at all flippant. She wants more. So, Anna, this is for you.

Queen Anne’s lace or Cow Parsley?

The first thing to point out on your way up the road towards the gate that leads to the steep meadow up to Bradlow Knoll is the appearance in just a few days of Queen Anne’s lace and Cow Parsley growing along the verges. The former is said to have been named after Queen Anne, who was an expert lace maker. When she pricked herself with a needle, a single drop of blood fell from her finger onto the lace, leaving the dark purple floret found in the flower’s centre. Its root is edible when young and similar to a carrot, but it is easily confused with Poison Hemlock, which is deadly, so best not to bother eating it. Stick to your local supermarket.

effort rewarded

Since the last visit to the wood, Bradlow Hill has become even steeper. This means that before you can turn to look down at the view of Ledbury at your feet (the reward for all your uphill effort), you have to sit amongst the sheep and their calling cards and take deep mouthfuls of air. Never do lungs seem more like bellows than when you need air, and never have they been more appreciated than in these Covid times. They are fabulous organs and have climbed the rankings in the “Favourite Organ” league to overtake kidneys, spleen and bladder. The appendix, surely, is bottom of the league. By the way, the other reason for contacting me is to challenge any drivel I come up with. Is the appendix an organ? There is a comment box at the bottom of the page if you want to avoid emailing me.

mayflower

From the top of the hill, with the gate that leads into the wood at your back, the view is now speckled with white as the hawthorn hedges start to show off their mayflower bloom. A frequent shrub for hedgerows in this country as it is an effective barrier against livestock, in this case sheep, thanks to its twisted, thorny branches. The Bradlow sheep were unbothered by this and were using its shade to take a nap in or for scratching their posteriors.

the laid-back denizens of Bradlow
a sea of stitchwort

I could tell something had changed from the last visit. When I entered the cool dark of the wood and allowed my eyes to get used to the gloom it was obvious that the bluebells were in decline. Instead of the profusion of blue, a newer carpet of colour had taken over: white stitchwort taking in the light through the thinly leaved canopy of the woodland. It was once used as a herbal remedy for a stitch (the pain sometimes felt in the side during exercise), hence the name ‘stitchwort’. Also known as “Star-of-Bethlehem” and “daddy’s-shirt-buttons“. Do not pick them – if you pick greater stitchwort, you will cause a thunderstorm. I shall return to them next month when their seed capsules ripen and start making popping sounds. They could be mistaken foe wood anemones, a mistake I made, but I was steered away gently by Bridget of Malvern – for which many thanks. Misinforming Anna of Manchester is not what I want.

birdies in Frith Wood

Deep in the woods the birds were singing away as they do. I stopped and recorded a minute’s worth for you. If you can identify correctly three of the birds (there are in fact four) and send me your answer in an email (see above), the first correct answer will get a prize. You may have to turn up the volume. Sadly, Mr W.B. cannot take part, being our go-to expert who officially identified the birdies. Ladies and gentlemen, this three legged stoneware bowl shall be sent to the winner. Hand painted and glazed, part of the Hudson series, slightly retro, in a good way, American abstract expressionist in character. 23 x 23 x 8 cms (0.75 g). Normally retails at £60. How can you resist the challenge?

win this fab three legged bowl

The Yellow Archangel is another plant that comes into bloom as the Bluebells are fading, it probably gets its name from its virtue of not stinging, despite being part of the dead-nettle family. Here’s a picture of some amongst the few Bluebells left. Is that single pink flower a Herb Robert?

Yellow Archangel

Further and deeper into the wood a yew tree leans into the path. These old trees can live for centuries and often harbour badger setts among its roots. The badger, “that most ancient Briton of English beasts” (Edward Thomas), is not seen very often – it is nocturnal and secretive, often associated with The Wind in the Willows in his dressing gown and slippers, but by others, including some friends, blamed for many criminal acts in gardens.

only yew

One friend is surprised that after years of country-dwelling we haven’t learned that every act of seemingly pointless rural vandalism is always caused by badgers. Furthermore, and to counter the “cuddly” view of badgers, another friend quotes Beatrix Potter from The Tale of Mr Tod:

rural thug

” . . . Tommy Brock was a short bristly fat waddling person with a grin; he grinned all over his face.  He was not nice in his habits.  He ate wasps nests and frogs and worms; and he waddled about by moonlight, digging things up.  His clothes were very dirty; and as he slept in the daytime, he always went to bed in his boots.  And the bed which he went to bed in, was generally Mr Tod’s.”

I’m not sure how bucolic I’ve been, but I hope you enjoyed it, Anna. I even squeezed in a ceramics reference, which is, after all, the point of this blog. Lastly (and here I am blowing my own trumpet, I know),  if you are in the mood and like short stories, let me introduce you to The Common. It is a literary organization whose mission is to deepen our individual and collective sense of place. Based at Amherst College, it aims to serve as a vibrant common space for the global exchange of ideas and experiences and publishes works that embody particular times and places. It has published one of my short stories. Please click here if you would like to read it: Malus

malus

Thank you, keep well, and keep off the Hemlock.

A policeman saw a man driving around with a van full of badgers. He pulls the man over and says… “You can’t drive around with badgers in this town! Take them to the zoo immediately.” The man says “OK”… and drives away. The next day, the officer sees the man still driving around with the van full of badgers, and they’re all wearing straw hats. He pulls him over and demands… “I thought I told you to take these badgers to the zoo yesterday?” The man replies… “I did . . . today I’m taking them to the beach!”

ankle-deep in bluebells

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Columba Palumbus, or garden thug

Hello, everyone out there. Here we are, not waving, not drowning, not twiddling our thumbs, just plodding along and occasionally having one glass of wine too many, or watching just one more episode of Tiger King (aren’t people appalling, we say, smug in the knowledge that, of course, we wouldn’t fall for a loud-mouth narcissist), or sneaking off to buy chocolate (“sorry officer, but in my household it is considered an essential foodstuff, not a luxury”), or inventing new lyrics to “Happy Birthday” as you soap your hands for the fiftieth time in the day.

reused clay soak for Thelonious

The Great Sulk

Only recently have Valentines Clay in Stoke started to take orders, though delivery is not going to be immediate, so, for now, we are down to half a bucket of used and left-over stoneware clay that has been soaking in water.  Shortly it will be just the right consistency for pugging, subsequently negotiations have begun with Thelonious Pugmill (who some of you may remember from a previous blog) to begin work tomorrow. He has been sulking these few weeks because he was refused permission to be furloughed, but there is confidence that by playing him the complete works of Steely Dan he will be persuaded. This one is his favourite; just click here. I have never met Napoleon, But I plan to find the time.

Thelonious in happier times

Once the clay has gone through Thelonious, it’ll be as good as new and ready to be slabbed and shaped into something that vaguely resembles a vase. As you can see, new approaches, inspired by Alison Britton’s work, though yet to be painted and glazed.

stoneware fandango

By the way, unsure about how long the covid virus’s ability to stick to surfaces lasts, we put everything that comes in (shopping, post, deliveries, shoes, etc) in a room at the entrance. No one is sure how this helps, but if, after a couple of hours’ interrogation the object in question persuades us that it’s OK, we let it in. There is one package though that has us in a quandary. We ordered a flexible draft excluder for doors. This can be stuck on the outside of the frame so that no rain can make its way into the office (this happens when the rain is blown by wind coming from the south). The order was placed three months ago.  The package arrived yesterday. It is from the epicentre of the pandemic: Hunan. Should it be boiled first? Put out in the garden for a few days? Sprayed with alcohol?*

all the way from Hunan

The weather has been kind in this part of the UK, and what with the decrease in road traffic and fewer people going to work, the relative silence seems to make the birds sing more loudly, when in fact they’ve presumably always sung their little hearts out at the same volume, only we weren’t listening.

The wood pigeons have taken over the garden, using the birdbath as their own personal swimming pool, hanging out in the porch in a challenging sort of way (you know, the “what you gonna do about it” variety), making amorous advances to each other on the garden furniture, nesting so high up in the Lawson Cypress that their droppings make a spectacular Pollockian splash when they hit the patio, the aforementioned garden furniture, the potted plants, us…though it is unfair to describe Jackson Pollock’s work as “splashes” since he was an artist who knew how to harness the energy of a dribble more than anything else. On the plus side, next time you spot a wood pigeon drinking, observe it: most birds drink by dipping their bill in water and throwing their head back to swallow. Pigeons and doves are able to immerse their beaks and can drink continuously. So perhaps they have more in common with Jackson P. than I thought.

Jackson Pigeon

Other than for shopping or visiting the pharmacy, we can only go out to take exercise, as long as we do not drive to a spot and then go for a stroll. You must start your walk from home, which is why if you are lucky enough to live in a place like Ledbury you get to appreciate such easy access to the countryside from your front door. A walk to the top of Bradlow Knoll forces you to use your lungs but rewards you with a sloping view down towards the town and towards the Cotswolds beyond. And then you head into the cool of Frith Wood and feast your eyes on bluebells and wood anemones and you remember that it is Spring, and that most people cannot stand ankle-deep in bluebells and breathe in that clean air.

Ledbury from Bradlow Knoll

Back down the hill, and depending on the time of day, you may be thinking ahead to the evening’s activities: food, drink, telly. Will there be an obesity and alcoholism problem when we eventually come out of lockdown? Will our brains have turned to mush from the indiscriminate viewing of soaps, Scandi-noir, repeats of “Dad’s Army” and cookery programmes? Well, perhaps the experience will have made us all much choosier about what goes into us – why drink a can of supermarket beer when you can get delicious locally brewed ones delivered? Why watch “Made in Chelsea” when you can get to watch National Theatre plays being streamed?  Why not, ladies and gentlemen, pay that little bit extra for a unique ceramic piece with the visual impact to transform your mantelpiece? Well, I had to get that in somehow.

Monkey puzzle vase and scoop bowl

Finally, and please indulge me, if you ever want to relax and let your mind go wandering far away from earthly matters, I have a serious recommendation. I have had the record for years and occasionally lie on the floor and play it – it is transcendental and best experienced in a cathedral. Spem in Alium (Hope in any other) was written by Thomas Tallis in 1570 as a 40 part motet, in other words for 40 individual voices, to be heard “in the round”, with the choir surrounding you. I was lucky enough to go to a performance of this at the Malvern Theatre, with the singers spaced all around us. If you click here it will take you to the Byrd Ensemble singing it, but probably best purchased as a CD (the King’s College Cambridge Choir recording is best) and listened to with earphones.

Thomas Tallis

By way of contrast, back to hand washing, and those alternative lyrics when we were children:

“Happy birthday to you,

Do you live in a zoo?

You look like a monkey

And you smell like one too.”

*If in the unlikely event that you are a very young person or child reading this blog, please be assured that it is not in the least bit serious – in fact, it is very silly, and you must not take anything in it to heart, nor should you try boiling your parents’ post .

Frith Wood