Archive for the ‘Local interest’ Category

Beautiful Early Spring Day In Northumberland

Sunday, March 7th, 2010

Today, we were visiting with my parents, who live on the Roman Wall near Hexham in glorious Northumberland. 

It was a beautiful Sunday morning, the first really gorgeous day of the year – the sky was blue and the sun was actually warming with temperatures getting up to 6oC , even if the snow was still lying in the shadows of the dry stone walls or the dips of the fields.

I was woken to the sound of a greater spotted woodpecker playing tunes on the trees and the metal bits of telegraph poles – the males like to call their mates by playing tunes on the metal bits as if they are calling them via some secret drum beat, and the lapwings were calling their distinctive peewit calls and gliding up and down in their intricate wavy dances through the air through the stubbly fields.

Spring will be here when the curlews can be heard in the fields and summer when the swallows finally get this far north – they’re probably already in North Africa, enjoying the sun.

I love the light at this time of the year – it has a real crispness that brings everything out into sharp relief, making the snowdrops extra bright and white. 

And the air was so still and fresh, clearing the lungs and cobwebs from this wintertime, when we have all spent too much time indoors, pushed inside by the really low temperatures.  I seemed to spend much of the time, playing football or tennis or kick-the-can with the children, which got the blood coarsing around my blood vessels.

Perfection and peaceful;  home.

Saved – We’ve Got A New Milkman

Friday, February 26th, 2010

We received a letter today with our milk and our milkround has been taken over by a gentleman from Wetherby, called John Moore.  He has been in the dairy trade for over 20 years and we hope that means this Great British tradition of a milk round can be preserved for some time into the future.

Here are some numbers for your local North Yorkshire milkman:

Simon Elliott 07791 963 105 : Thirsk Carlton Minniott Sowerby South Kilvington Sessay

John Moore 07905194794 : Boroughbridge Aldborough Marton Cum Grafton Minskip Roecliffe

Let’s keep this Yorkshire and Great British tradition going so why not tell post the names of your milkman here.

Also, see my previous post for sights, sounds and memories at http://www.steenbergs.co.uk/blog/2010/02/the-demise-of-the-milkman/

The demise of the milkman

Thursday, February 18th, 2010

Our milkman has decided to call it a day – bad back is his reasoning – and no-one wants to take over his route around Boroughbridge. 

I suspect that the weather has also caused havoc for him; I know that rounds have been taking at least twice as long at night and other milkmen have been slipping and falling over in the freezing temperatures.  I wouldn’t want to be out in the depths of the night with temperatures sometimes below -10oC.

Last year was also another bad year for milkmen as Dairy Farmers of Britain went into administration in June 2009.  So I guess that means we will need to start going to the local shops for milk.

There is a note of nostalgia in my views about milkmen.  They are one of those quaint little strands that makes England what it is, but we cannot and must not stand in the way of progress, I suppose.  However I shall miss the neat array of glass bottles sitting on the doorstep, the routine of putting out the bottles to be reused (very green compared to big plastic bottles), while my ears will no longer be subconsciously woken up by the sound of the milk being delivered.

Electric Milk Float

Electric Milk Float

While our milk here has never been delivered on an electric milk float.  That high pitched whine of the milk float was one of the sounds of the English cityscape and much like the sound of the cuckoo is disappearing from our landscape.  I loved the sound of the milk float when I lived in London.

There’s a whole site on milk floats at http://www.milkfloats.org.uk/index.html with sounds and videos at  http://www.milkfloats.org.uk/media.html.  My favourite audio file is http://www.milkfloats.org.uk/delivery.wav.

The demise of the milk man reflects the rise in the grocery multiples who dominate the shopping habits of Britain and, I guess America and every major economy now – Tesco is big in Thailand and Eastern Europe.  We like the convenience of driving to an out of town supermarket, piling the car up with all kinds of goodies and then trundling back home, or we love the convenience of shopping online and getting our groceries delivered by Tesco or Ocado or Asda.

Times change.  It may be nothing but the previous milkman also ran the village Post Office, but that closed about one year after he stopped doing the milk round.

Is this the end of rural England, or is rural England really just a myth that we all think made England what it is?

Christmas Eve And It’s Still Snowing

Thursday, December 24th, 2009
Let it snow

Let it snow

It’s slightly eery at work today.  No-one else is here as we have completed the stock-take and all the Christmas orders have been dispatched.  Also, the snowy weather and the fact that it’s Christmas Eve means that the business park is almost deserted.  Other than Wolseley Centers (which never closes), Nidd Transport and Masham Sausages who are busy trying to get their last Christmas deliveries out, I think I am the only person on this estate.

It started snowing again in the night and we have had at least 3 inches since about 4am and it’s still snowing away.  There’s a muffled, silencing quality to the snow which meant that as I drove in this morning – with the odd skid for excitement – I felt as if I was cocooned in my own little space, a warmed personal ecosystem stolidly driving through a wintry landscape.

As I drove into Ripon, I pondered on the fact that the elements have been reminding us of who is in control, really; we have had floods and now snow in the last 3 months, which is quite something for the temperate British climate.

We have done a pretty good job in getting all the many Internet orders out into the delivery networks, but unfortunately the weather has played havoc with some of the parts of the country.

Parcels to Aberdeen and Cumbria have been hit especially badly, as has Aylesbury.  Checking with Fedex today, no trucks have got through to Kendal since last week so a couple of parcels have got delayed but it looks as though the trucks have now got to Aberdeen and some of the parcels are now out for delivery.

All the other missing parcels with Fedex are out for delivery again today as quite a few have been delayed by weather problems, but then again they have been out for delivery 2 or 3 times this week already, but fingers crossed and many apologies to those few people who may not get their packages prior to Christmas due to the weather.

I will sign off now for a few days to enjoy a turkey Christmas dinner, my homemade Christmas pudding and some Christmas cheer.

God bless you all, Merry Christmas and I hope Santa Claus / Saint Nicholas brings you all the things that your hearts’ desires.

It’s cold up North

Friday, December 18th, 2009
Snowy days at Steenbergs Organic

Snowy days at Steenbergs Organic

As I look out my window in the office, it’s blowing a blizzard outside.  It’s that dry, fluffy type of snow and had coated our car this morning with about 3 inches of snow.  The temperature is about -2oC.

But we’re here at the factory, having driven along snow covered roads that didn’t always look as though the snow ploughs had been out along, and there was not much evidence of gritters out last night.

We’ve got a fairly good turnout amongst our staff so far with another couple going to make an attempt after getting their kids off to school.  So courier and post dependent we’ll be able to get more orders out today, but perhaps Santa will need his sleigh.

Snowy Thirsk

Snowy Thirsk

Billy Pigg And The Northumbrian Small-Pipes

Saturday, December 12th, 2009

I remember hearing the Northumbrian small-pipes for the first time many years ago.  I was about 10 or 12 and we went with some of my German relatives – probably my Granny – to Wallington near Morpeth in Northumberland. 

Outside the café area , there was a lone elderly man playing a set of pipes and I remember asking my mum “what are they?”, but being German she had no idea.  So I asked someone and was told that these were Northumberland’s bagpipes.  The chap playing them was called (so I have been told by my mum) John Armstrong who came from Carrick, and was one of the foremost players of the Northumbrian small-pipes.

The Northumbrian Pipes are a very little known instrument – together with the Half-long Border Pipes – that are peculiar to the Border region.  Northumberland has its own rich heritage of clans, folk tales, dance music and folk songs as well as its very own Small Pipes.

If Northumberland was Scotland, Ireland or Wales, there would be huge interest in its heritage, but as rural society declines and the big cities and London dominates, there is every chance that these special things of England could be lost.

So it has been a real pleasure of my recent few weeks to find online archive recordings of  Billy Pigg, one of the greats of the Northumbrian Small Pipes, together with other folk heroes of Northumbrian music.  These have been preserved in digital online at Radio Farne, which is a project from the Music Information Resource Centre at The Sage Gateshead.  For a link , click Radio Farne.  Or for a less fiery and speedy style, there’s the more melodic style of Joe Hutton who can be heard playing at Cullercoats’ Bay Folk Club here in 1979 also at Radio Farne.

This is something to be truly treasured.

Find out more about the Northumbrian Small Pipes, at http://www.nspipes.co.uk/.

Antony Gormley And 2 Modern Icons (Or Maybe It’s 4)

Thursday, November 19th, 2009

I have just been for a short family visit to Corbridge which is from where I hail.  I am born and bred in Northumberland and have Northumberland, the Tyne and the North coursing through my veins and deeply embedded in my psyche.  I love the North and North Yorkshire is about as far South as I will ever go again – I did London for 5 or so years, but it was not for me.

And as we go North, the gateway to Tyneside and Northumberland is heralded by the brooding figure of the monumental Angel of the North that has protected the region from harm since 1998, but sadly not helped its football teams.  It fascinates me how it is that two works by Antony Gormley, a Londoner by birth and working, have become for me some of the best works of sculptural art in recent years – The Angel of the North (1998) and a temporary series of ice sculptures, Three Made Places (2005).  For more on Antony Gormley, go to http://www.antonygormley.com/home.html

The Angel of the North is a massive, hulking structure of rusted steel that dominates the skyline as you are coming from the South on the A1(M), as you start going down into Team Valley, or (if you’re heading the other way) it seems to loom in the distance.  The Angel is a big, muscle-bound presence with his wings stretched outwards like 2 aeroplane wings that are vertical rather than horizontal, which has always struck me a bit odd, a tad rigid and clumsy – this does not feel like an angel that will glide down the hill.

For me, it is almost a metaphor for the North East as it looks Northwards towards the Tyne Valley.  This was once a region redolent with smells and sounds of heavy industry, but gone is the coal, the steel and the shipyards.  It stands near the site of the Team Valley and its ribbed body reminds me of the rigid structure of a ship’s hull.   It would no longer be odd to carry coals to Newcastle because this centre of coal mining for 500 hundred or more years is no longer a centre for this carbon energy source.  And the steel was forged in Hartlepool Steel Fabrications and not in a shipyard or metal basher on the Tyne (when Richard Steenberg fled from the Germans when they they invaded Danish Jutland in 1851 he settled first in Hartlepool). 

Is the Angel symbolic of the North’s decline or is it by turning its back on the South trying to say to us to dream and to fly to our dreams?

Three Made Spaces were carved out of the thick white ice on the Island of Svalbard in the Arctic Sea whilst on the 2005 Cape Farewell Voyage.  Cape Farewell (see www..capefarewell.com/) is an amazing concept run by David Buckland, a photographic artist, who brings together artists of all genres with scientists on trips to parts of the world impacted by climate change; most of the journeys have been to the Artic.

Three Made Spaces was created with Peter Clegg, an architect from London, who came up with the idea that we need to visualise a kilogram of carbon dioxide as humans are visual creatures and being told you emit xkg CO2 a year is not very easy to relate to.  He worked out that the space enclosed by 1kg CO2 is which is 0.54 square metres or roughly the size of a coffin or the space around a human being.

Three Made Places, therefore seeks to express man’s CO2 emisssions in sculptural form; it comprises Shelter, Standing Room and Block.  You can read more about their thoughts on the work at http://www.capefarewell.com/expeditions/2005/blog/day-9.html

However, for me the simple work, Standing Room, is the most interesting – it is an upright block of ice, carved to the shape roughly of 1kg CO2.  It is a very clean, simple and crisp icon for climate change; it gives you the size and shape of the problem that we are creating for the planet, which also happens to be roughly the size of a human.  The sculpture is like carbon emissions man-made, and because it is in the Northern Polar region, it reminds us that the whole world is being impacted by our actions not just our own local regions or even just the extremes of the planet. 

Finally, there is an irony in that like the ice in general it is an impermanent work of art – it will be destroyed by the elements, whether more snow, wind, sun or global warming and so like the ice and other environments it will change with the elements thrown at it by the planet’s weather systems. 

We need to adapt to the changes and mediate our actions to reduce the potential scale of the changes, but are we even aware of the immediacy and closeness of the problem?

Autumnal Leaves Falling

Wednesday, November 4th, 2009

Autumnal leaves are falling everywhere.  They have hung on in there for quite a while longer as we have had a short spell of decent warm weather and very little wind.  But even so, nature cannot be stopped and even the delicate finger-like leaves of our wisteria have turned yellow and will soon have all gone until spring next year.

The River Skell at Fountains Abbey

The River Skell at Fountains Abbey

It’s a time of the year that makes you feel artistic.  I think perhaps the light is softer, making the edges of objects all fuzzy, rather than the sharp precision of winter and summer.   The smells are also old, ancient, the smells of decay; another year over.

Autumn Leaves

Autumn Leaves

I am reminded of a painting by Sir John Everett Millais that hangs in Manchester Art Gallery – “Autumn Leaves”.  John Ruskin wrote of Autumn Leaves that it was “the first instances of a perfectly painted twilight”.  I am not sure about the twilight but it does conjur up autumnal smells and sights.

In it, 4 girls stand around a pile of autumnal leaves piled up high – the 2 girls in the centre wearing deep black are Effie’s (Millais’ wife) 2 younger sisters and the others are local youngsters, Matilda Proudfoot and Isabella Nicol.  The setting is Annat Lodge in Perthshire, where the distant hills are a deep purple of twilight in the distance.

In the foreground there is a heap of papery fallen leaves, piled high having been brought there by the girls in whicker baskets.  Yellowish-green, bronze, red are the leaves, mimicked by the russet and deep purples of the younger 2 local girls as their clothes blend in with the colours of the season.  The youngest girl stares wistfully at the leaves and holds a chewed red apple in her hands.

There is a strong emotional intensity as these young girls stare out at us – it is twilight, the end of a year, yet they are just starting out.  The earth is perpetual cycle of renewal (spring) through to growth and beauty (summer) and ageing (autumn) before death (winter).  Then during winter, the earth is actively replenishing itself ready for another year of growth and death, in a perpetual cycle.

But maybe its more a time for poetry rather the visual arts; maybe poets are the more melancholic of the artists.

For Halloween let’s enjoy Calan Gaeaf

Saturday, October 31st, 2009

It’s Fright Night which seems to be the name that Halloween is now being marketed under.  This is not its first branding makeover as All Saint’s Day was shifted from 13 May to 1 November, and so All Hallows’ Even to 31 October, to hijack and repress the traditional British festival of Calan Gaeaf and the Celtic festival of Samhain.  This was done by Popes Gregory III and Gregory IV in the 8th and 9th Centuries.   Halloween derives from All Hallows’ Even.

It’s a pity that he did this as it hasn’t really worked and this Christian Festival is actually celebrated still as a pagan night; it would have been much better to have embraced Calan Gaeaf like the Mexican Catholics have embraced the El Día de los Muertos or All Souls’ Day, which traces itself back 3000 years to the earlier Aztec, Maya and Totanac traditions.

Both traditions have similar ideas.  These are that Calan Geaaf and Samhain are the end of the lighter half of the year and the start of the darker half of the year, so we are really moving from summertime to wintertime.  The belief was that as the year moves from one phase to the next, the thin gossamer barrier between the Living World and the Otherworld shimmers, stretches and thins and dead spirits can move from the Otherworld to the Living World.

So it’s a time to remember our ancestors and all those who have come before us and pay homage to those that have brought us here.  Lighting a candle inside a carved head pays tribute to departed familial souls. 

But unfortunately some nastier spirits can cross over, so we must dress up in scary clothes to frighten them away, or at least for them to mistake our skeletal costumes for other evil spirits.

Traditionally, the lanterns were carved from a turnip and I remember many a boring day trying to carve out the tough inner of a turnip to carve a very crude face on it.  So as I eccentrically announced this week “the pumpkin is one of the greatest inventions!”  Carving a pumpkin is much simply than a turnip, so allows much more fanciful patterns to be made.  Also, the orange colours are much more beautiful than the white of a turnip and the smell much sweeter.

A pumpkin carved hag

A pumpkin carved hag

Interestingly, pumpkins and turnips only became associated with Halloween in the mid 19th Century.  They have always been around but really they were more a celebration of harvest and thanksgiving for the bounty of the earth rather than anything to do with Fright Night.  Perhaps though these lanterns or jack o’lanterns may protect the home from evil spirits, so they are a quite good co-option.

We enjoy carving quite complicated pumpkin patterns and this year, we have made a hag, a ghoul and a dragon.

We also used some Flying Pumpkin Lanterns, which were great fun.  These are based on Chinese flying lanterns called “Khom Fay” or “Khom Loy”, where the Chinese have had these for 2000 or so years.  Basically, it is a paper lantern stretched over a bamboo frame with a small candle in the centre that gives the lantern lift, just like a mini hot air balloon.  Ours were decorated as pumpkins.

It actually took quite a lot of time for the pumpkin lantern to fill out with hot air and we needed to tease out the creases and edges to let it bulge out fully.  However, when it was ready to go, I could feel it straining at my fingertips and then (after releasing), it shot upwards for about 100 metres, caught the wind and headed northwards at a far lick towards Helperby.  We lost sight of it after about 10 minutes when the lamp flickered a bit and then obviously went out.  Some farmer will have a surprise when he finds a flattened pumpkin paper lantern lying in his field.  Awesome fun.

Goethe and an afternoon walk at Harlow Carr

Monday, August 17th, 2009

We went as a family to Harlow Carr Gardens on the outskirts of Harrogate this weekend.  We go every so often to enjoy a quick walk in the gardens.  It’s pretty small and really quite genteel, which is just what you would expect for Harrogate.  I prefer the beautifully landscaped gardens of Fountains Abbey outside of Ripon.  I suppose I enjoy the green and rugged feel of the outdoors over the prettiness of beautiful flower gardens.

We had to queue for ages to get lunch for 5 at Betty’s at Harlow Carr.  It took about 1 hour, but then if you arrive at the busiest time (12.30pm) on one of the busiest holiday weekends of the year, then it serves you right.  In any case, it was chucking it down with rain outside, so we were better inside than out.  The food is okay at Betty’s, nothing especially brilliant; perhaps a bit overpriced for what you get, although the ambience is posh and the views over the gardens at Harlow Carr are decent.

We had timed it well as after lunch it had dried up and was warm outside.  It was a good time for a gentle walk in the woods, passed the flowering crocosmia, dahlias and toadflax.  We enjoyed the bright metal sculptures, such as a giant spade and a poppy poking out of the beds.  The kids wanted to follow a trail backwards, so we went to the Log Ness Monster, then a fern covered summer house, a log maze, walked passed some people watching a bee-keepers demonstration at the apiary and finished it off at the wonderful willow sculptures of a whale, a mermaid and a pirate ship.  I was gobbled up just like Hanuman was eaten up by Surasa, the sea monster, while searching for Sita in the sea between Tamil Nadu and Sri Lanka.

As we walked around the woods, we came across a lunar module made from recycled things from the house, ranging from a washing machine and a metal dustbin through to saucepans and mirrors.  It was commemorating 30 years since the first man on the moon.

On it, there was a quote from Goethe which sounded really good.  On going home, I checked out the quote only to find out it was a common misquote and really came from a book (“The Scottish Himalayan Expedition” from 1951) by a Scottish mountaineer called William Hutchison Murray, within which he actually uses a loose translation from Goethe’s Faust made by John Anster in 1835 (lines 214 – 230).  Anyway the quote itself still stands as a good piece:

“Until one is committed, there is hesitancy, the chance to draw back, always ineffectiveness. Concerning all acts of initiative (and creation), there is one elementary truth the ignorance of which kills countless ideas and splendid plans: that the moment one definitely commits oneself, then providence moves too. A whole stream of events issues from the decision, raising in one’s favour all manner of unforeseen incidents, meetings and material assistance, which no man could have dreamt would have come his way. I learned a deep respect for one of Goethe’s couplets: 

Whatever you can do or dream you can, begin it.
Boldness has genius, power and magic in it!”"