Salty Pinches – Words, doodles. mixed media

Life’s not fur. It’s rabbit wool.

Sky above Rochdale ; a creature created by me; a selection of pictures from the exhibition I visited.

Feb was swift but I managed a visit to Salford Art Gallery. Salford Voices (celebrating 100 years since Salford was granted city status). The exhibits were all chosen by people who live or work in Salford. They included a scold’s bridle (exactly what it says it is). I’ll pass on time travel backwards.

Catch yer later sweet pertater

After my last post, a memory popped up of a book I gifted that wasn’t welcomed. My fiesty aunty informed me that ‘Crime & Punishment’ was a dirty book and had been put in the trash. The complaint was not about the content; the book had been on the shelf a long time and the pages had aged and turned brown. I kicked myself, as my Mum and all her sisters were adamant that old gifted comics had given their youngest sister, Laura, scarlet fever (back in the 1940s). And the fiesty second youngest, Mary, had told me herself that she was working then and found it humiliating to have to go for fumigation baths. This aside, Crime & Punishment remains perhaps the most vivid book in my memory bank.

I’m dedicating the photos and this post to a buddy who in the Spring time of my life shared lovely and happy times with me. Since his relatively early passing not that long ago, I have wanted to somehow mark my gratitude for his inspiring and generous presence in my life. Rest in Peace PG.

The Three Musketeers

A mixed media stitch meditation on the theme of peace (2025)

A teacher noticed my Aunty Mary looking longingly at “The Three Musketeers”. All her long life Mary was forever grateful to that teacher for saying, “would you like to borrow that book Mary?” Her family were so poor they sometimes had to hide from the rent man. There were no books.

Like many, I admire Dolly Parton for setting up The Imagination Library to honour her father who missed out on learning to read and write. In my own little way, I pass all my books on and I’m convinced at least a few have found the right waiting hands.

It’s a Wrap

A wrap of dyed found table cloth with the addition of my own stitches.

As we close off this year with everything we can throw at it, I wish my readers and fellow bloggers good health, happy thanksgivings and good times ahead. See you after 12th night. It’s time for a comfy armchair and some good books.

Tucked up close to my heart

sensory garden, Hollingworth, Littleborough

During the pandemic, a small public garden, tended by volunteers, was my pilgrimage destination. I lived in a flat at the time with no outdoor space. The bulldozing began not long after the pandemic (a building was to be extended). It felt like terrible timing to me just as people adjusted to “new normal”. This place with a strong emotional connection for some of us was fenced off and bulldozed. So, sometimes it is best to move your focus elsewhere, and I also eventually moved out of the flat and the area. I’ve not been back for over 12 months, so was pleased to find this sensory garden in the same area looking established.

As we are on the topic of thriving, I turn to a family anecdote. When the delighted adoptive parents took their new baby (i.e. my baby sister – 18 months younger than me) to meet maternal Grandma for the first time, she said, “ee, that one will always be ailing. Take her back”. Our new baby had to have an operation on her tummy before we were able to travel by bus on a freezing winter day to collect her and bring her home with us. Grandma may have also reflected on her own large, poor, family, and that three of her children died in infancy (pneumonia and meningitis). She was wrong with her prediction about our new little one. Apart from heat rashes, tonsilitis, and an adventurous spirit, she was never ailing more than any other kid. Happy Birthday for 27th October Tilly Flop.

Prompt Antidote

Seasonal prompt photos. White fur one is by Christmas the cat.

Seasonal change can seem harsh at times, and challenging and even confusing. At least, for some of us, “school is out forever”, so that aspect is happily out of the mix. Memories, however, of damp duffle coats, double maths and awful netball persist. Marbles, conkers and bonfire seasons once made up for it all. Now, there is Inktober instead (internet search it for more info). And if you can’t get enough of prompts then feel free to use the photos shared here. I’m having a go at Inktober but not sharing my daily sketches unless any make me laugh.

Turps

Building at Manchester uni during a walk to The Whitworth Art Gallery this summer.

Floating seeds are called “sugars” where I grew up, and symbolise summer for me. There have been plenty of sugary moments this summer.

And, without turps, I painted my sitting room. Neither did I wear a flat cap, shove a pencil behind my ear or measure much. I did have the good old radio on and had plenty of tea breaks. It pressed the time travel button for me, taking me right back to being Dad’s little “helper” and the excitement of having a change.

My ideal summer read hunt led nowhere, but I did read a lot of blogs, so perhaps they fitted the bill.

Here are three of many (all WordPress and all equally appreciated).

Waysofthinking.co.uk (an exploration of thought). Includes great quotes and art.

Stonysoilvermont.com (Vermont writing). Also mindful and includes lovely poems.

Travelswithmyart.wordpress.com (Exploring art: one gallery, one artist, one country at a time).

High Up

It was peaceful up there, on the restored viaduct, not far from the Roman ruins, and with yellow trams passing by. So many layers: growth, atrophy and regeneration. And even a yoga group; bet that felt good.

(for details, please internet search Castlefield Viaduct and National Trust websites).

“PICTURES FOR GAZA”: COLORS (AND 30 MINUTES OF DIGITAL SILENCE) CALLING FOR THE CEASEFIRE

* MARCH TO GAZA – 30 MINUTI DI SILENZIO DIGITALE Da giovedì 8 maggio è iniziata la prima azione coordinata del movimento MTG:una pausa digitale quotidiana di 30 minuti, ogni sera dalle 21.00 alle 21.30 (ora locale di ogni paese). Durante questo buco nessuna connessione sulle reti sociali, nessun messaggio e nessun commento. Telefoni e […]
“PICTURES FOR GAZA”: COLORS (AND 30 MINUTES OF DIGITAL SILENCE) CALLING FOR THE CEASEFIRE

Sharing this post from Roberto in case of interest.

Two Taureans

John (Dad) and Mary (Mum’s sister). Both born in May.

Two Taureans (if you believe in the stars). And if you had met these two, you may have wondered if astrology did, afterall, have some substance. For they did, at times, exhibit bull- like characteristics and also a powerful tenacity (in her case at least).

I enjoy memoir, but it is often the gaps which tantalise. And what is really “true” and what is made up? We were told never to ask my Dad “about his childhood”, so there would be lots of gaps. Mary said, “noone will remember all the stories now”. I did try to record some of them, but there are limits when your subject is old and ill and tired. And how far do you go, and who for and why?

She said of him, that she always remembered the time he took another aunt’s arm when she wasn’t well, and could hardly see, and took her around his garden, showing her all the lovely flowers.

And I remember her, taking the arms of her brother and sisters, and guiding them through life’s storms. Until, only she was left. Yet she didn’t give in. She made the most of it. And I miss her conversation. She was interested and a very good listener.

They were 13 when WWII started and started work at 14. She loved to go on holiday. He was afraid of flying, but discovered cruises and companionship when he was in his 80s. I guess we are so much our context and times as well as our natures and the alignment of the stars.