Into Autumn

Autumn. Is there a season more written about? It's such a nostalgic, wistful time of the year. As we feel the first licks of cold around bare necks, as our feet catch a few fallen crisps of colour, as our breath takes its  smoky form in the still of the morning, we are pulled from one season into another. I almost feel ready for the shift, almost ready for boots and blankets, scarves and soup. Almost.  

Hips, haws and berries are gleaming in the hedgerows just now and my little one's mouths have been often stained purple from blackberry bingeing. On returning from walks our pockets and bags have been heavy with harvests of foraged fruit. We've made use of the elderberries already and I'm hoping to gather enough rose hips to make a vitamin c rich syrup...on Richard Mabey's advice Eli tried raw Hawthorn berries but reported that they didn't taste a bit like sweet potato.

The boys and I seem to have found a little bit more of an indoor rhythm after some disharmony last week; we're taking it easy, trying not to overstretch ourselves. It's starting to feel easier to stay home and enjoy cosier activities. Our summer window display has been dismantled and the usual leaf, nut and acorn gathering can commence. We even started a little tentative seasonal crafting with some waxed leaves stuck onto transparent film; I think they look lovely with the light behind them at the window but Eli is a little disappointed that the glue is visible so we may have to try again with different materials at some point. Such a perfectionist my boy!

(Eli sporting his latest skate-park style - the vest.)

And so, with an extra layer or two and some berries and spices simmering on the hob, we slowly begin the season.

Flowers and firearms

Our week has been a little wobbly. Tiredness and the realisation for Monty that he is is really away from me when he goes to Kindergarten has left us more emotional than usual. We're trying to be gentle with ourselves, but it isn't easy with two boys who find it hard to be anything other than maximum strength. 

Despite our disarray we did manage to visit a little local museum this week. I'd spotted in a flyer that Bankfield museum in Halifax was holding an exhibition of textiles on the theme of gardens which I was keen to see. I imagined conversations with Eli about the artist's processes; materials and techniques used. I thought we might marvel together at the stitches used liked brush strokes and hoped it  would inspire us to run home and start our own creative project...

I pointed out the journey from photographs, to sketches and finally stitches. We looked at how some of the pieces were layered with sewn fabrics behind screen printed transparent cloth. I enthused over the botanical motifs and impressionistic effects...

Meanwhile, Eli was tugging on my arm, desperately trying to stay patient...because what he was interested in,  what he really wanted to look at...was the Duke of Wellington's regiment museum.

Dutifully, and with little enthusiasm I allowed myself to be lead to look at cases filled with uniforms and weaponry. Along with my discomfort at us being surrounded by the apparel and apparatus of war, I realised my knowledge of battle history was severely lacking. Now I was on shaky ground. I didn't have answers to the questions being asked of me. Waterloo? What was all that about again? American wars? Erm...let me see...

I did manage some vague mutterings about the trenches and we both enjoyed looking at various soldier's personal effects - what they ate from, the bags they carried - the everyday objects that remind us of their humanity rather than the violence they were embroiled in.

Learning together may not always be what I expect it to be. Although I set the agenda for our museum visit, and had my own expectations about what we might explore together, Eli had his own ideas. Those ideas meant that I looked at things I wouldn't otherwise have looked at. I found I was interested in some of those things and I found that when it comes to history I am pretty much clueless.

Time for a trip to the library I think...