The boys were back in town

An impromptu road trip for our French boys was a lovely New Year’s Eve surprise. A trip to the Hepworth was in order to show off Yorkshire’s cultural side. 

We squashed in to the car and headed for Wakefield. 

The advantage of going NYE is the lack of competition for a parking space, we achieved a boss one and headed on in. 

We had fed the boys a massive brunch in the form of English breakfast - enough bacon to sustain a person for a considerable amount of time. So, of course, the cafe is the first place we went to! After all, our cake levels must have been at an all time seasonal low by this point. The cafe is lovely - good food, friendly staff and the afternoon wintery light was beautiful.

Fortified with cake, hot chocolate and fizzy pop, we headed for the art. As always, all were  impressed by the Hepworth’s collection and intrigued by the visiting shows. Photos of favorite pieces were shot. To the shop then!

NYE was topped off by a top evening at friends in Sheffield - more than happy to include our boys at short notice. Hosts and other guests alike had to kiss everyone twice because of the French element. This seemed to go down well. Our hosts provided a delicious buffet and we then all played a game based on food and etiquette - not my strong point. The boys were happy; a significant number of questions began "What region in France…" They were, however, unhappy when we lost by one point due to a question concerning Finland. C'est la vie.

We waved adieu to the lovely boys on a very rainy New Years Day, making sure they left with a large slab of cake to be consumed in emergencies! We all hope they come again soon.

2013 in pictures

We have had snow, more snow and a little bit more snow, morris dancers, illuminating times, men dressed as women, women dressed as monkeys and said goodbye to my Father. 

A Christmas tail

It's a tradition to don your new Christmas gear and go for a walk pre dinner…isn't it?

To my delight I was lucky enough to receive a monkey onesie. It's even got a tail! The dogs needed a walk, I needed to show off my new outfit - off to the riverside we go. Normally a secluded spot, a very pleasant place for the dogs to run in the adjacent field. We head off…we meet some dogs (and their owner  - known to us) all good so far. Owner familiar with the concept of wearing Christmas gifts - however they are not sporting any wildly unusual outfits themselves. Disappointing.

Then…what seems to be half of Sheffield arrive to partake in a pleasant walk in the country side. I felt like a right narna in my monkey suit! Everyone else it seems, received sensible walking shoes or wooly hats. Oh well, the little dogs santa outfit caused some distraction at least.

Back home for Christmas related traditions, including eating too much, Guess what - no waist on the onesie makes it the perfect stuffing your face outfit - no belt loosening needed for me. On reflection…I'm never taking it off.

Happy Christmas all. 

Peace Love Happiness and Onesies 

Christmas is coming, the dog is getting….as much sleep in as possible!

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas.

It all started a little early for us as we need to raise funds for a Guide trip for offspring in 2015…we have been making felt Christmas decorations for what seems like EVER, as well as bath bombs, stockings and brooches. We did two Christmas Fayres and, although we won't make the next episode of the Apprentice, we did quite well. If you would like to purchase any of said items, or would like your car washing, dog walked or cat fed, please get in touch. (it's like 'bob a job' but much more expensive)

Now it's on to the serious business of what's on the telly, when can we tap and unwrap and how much lemonade are we going to need to keep us in snowballs for the entirety of the Christmas season.

Oh yes - and a bit of shopping.

I don't get Christmassy until I've jostled with loads of people and queued for hours to purchase essential Christmas items. Online shopping doesn't have the same sense of build up of anticipation and excitement. 

Fortunately a trip to Chesterfield provided jostling, a scary looking reindeer ride (I was too tall apparently) and meringue snowmen that looked like they had been in fight. Quality stuff.

The little dog is taking up every opportunity to sleep and dream of sleigh bells and Santa Paws. (sorry).

I'm sure it will be worth the wait, all the paper a dog could wish for to shred and distribute, squeaky toys to de-squeak and nice food sniffs. Doggy bliss.

Luminaire - that’s lighting stuff up, that is

What better way to catch up with old favourite bits of Chatsworth than by dim lighting. Chatsworth at night, by fake candlelight to be exact. The luminaire event was all rather enchanting. The atmosphere was set when we drove up at 7 pm, in the cold and dark and were greeted by the blue frontage - pretty stunning. Teenager proclaims “well, I wont be wanting an ice cream!” 

We saw pots and paintings, flooring and ceilings, sculptures and trinkets, all carefully lit with candlelight. Very atmospheric, giving the idea of what it must have looked like before electricity. The main star of the show, however, was the gardens. The building looked stunning and we liked the lit pathways to take you along the recommended route through the gardens.

The fierce weather held off for our visit but we did shuffle off home for a welcome hot chocolate and to recreate the Chatsworth effect in the comfort of our own sitting room.

French Polish

I have been wondering what to blog about, my father passed away recently after a short illness. It was inevitable at some point, but the sense of loss is very great.

Sorting through his belongings, I found an article he wrote about French Polish. Who better to provide a guest blog than

Alan De Sillery Wilson CChem FRSC

29 December 1925 – 09 September 2013

Read it – you might learn something. It will be particularly interesting for people who grew up believing the French polisher would be able to save the piece of furniture a young man damaged at a house party whilst his parents were away…he would never have done it in time (yellow pages ad c.1989). I’d always had my doubts.

French Polish

By Alan Wilson

I’m unsure of the date

A handsome piece of old furniture attracts by its design and style. The mind is intrigued by the skill involved in its construction. The eye is delighted by the beauty of its timber and veneer and one's hand is drawn to caress the quality of its finish. The patina and beauty will have been brought to perfection by the art in application used by an old time craftsman using French Polish.

The modern craftsman seeking to achieve the same results turns again to these old materials and methods, scorning the ubiquitous spray gun. What then is this magical material? The name is odd as it is known in France as English Polish. It consists of two ingredients, a resin called shellac and industrial methylated spirits and pure alcohol.

Shellac the basic resin comes form India and neighboring areas. It is an exudation of the parasitic lac insect, which feeds on special host trees. The word lac means one hundred thousand and is an indication of the vast number of little workers needed to produce this special resin. The word lac now gives us the modern term lacquer, used to describe many wood finishes. The basic resin is stripped from the trees and, being thermoplastic, is melted then filtered.

Various types are received in this country of which orange, button and garnet are examples. Processed grades such as white (obtained by bleaching) and transparent where the natural wax has been filtered out are also available.

Orange shellac is used to make the traditional French Polish and is available in flake form. Button shellac, used in button polish, was originally supplied as pats of resin about three inches wide and about one eighth thick. Now it too comes in flake form. Both French and button polish are cloudy due to the natural wax present in the resin. Garnet  shellac, as the name suggests, is a very deep colour and gives a very hard finish.

The polish made by dissolving the resin in the meths is applied by the craftsmen using a specially made pad or fad. This is constructed using about a nine inch square piece of chamois leather or cotton drill that has been washed many times. Well-laundered laboratory coats were much sought after for this purpose. A piece of pear-shaped wadding is placed in the center and the two sides of the leather folded diagonally over it to form a mouse-like shape. The whole is soaked in the polish with the loose ends twisted to squeeze the excess liquid out of the pad as required. 

The pad was then evenly worked over the surface of the piece of furniture, pressure being exerted to bring out more liquid to keep the surface wet. When the entire panel had been adequately covered it was left to dry for at least 24 hours. This operation was then repeated until a good solid coat had been applied. Best results were obtained using a steady circular motion. Finally the fad was used with a very dilute polish or even just meths to even out the final finish.

 

There are, of course, many tricks of the trade used by individual polishers. The most common is to add about 1-2% linseed oil to the polish to act as a lubricant. Alternatively the end of the fad is occasionally dipped into the oil for the same purpose during the application.

The result after many days work was a piece of furniture with a superb finish where the where the natural beauty of the timber had been developed to the full.

Dad was a Fellow of the Royal Society of Chemistry from 1956. He worked as a paint chemist most of his life he did a fair amount of research into ‘green’ waxes and polishes.

He lived a full, long life and enjoyed the occasional whiskey.

We didn’t go to Sheffield Pride, although I may have taken similar photos if we had

Yes, it’s that time of year...Pride or a carnival, Pride or a carnival...well this year, a Carnival won out  - Bakewell Carnival to be precise. Maisie and I had been to Bakewell earlier in the week, heard the fair music, seen the very end of the raft race and that was it - we were hooked into the carnival festivities and the all the candy floss of the fair, like a duck!

We squash into the little car (easier to park) pick up a friend of Maisie’s and head off in the sweltering heat to find the fun. First we have to find a car park. Dodging shopping trolleys full of novelty items and oompaloompas wandering around in the streets we head for the large, just out of town car park in Bakewell. Huzzah for the little car, we squeeze quite nicely in-between a car and a camper van. Nice. However, in that Great British tradition, the occupants of the camper van are picnicking inside the van - in the car park. They lean out of the window and say "don't park there, how on earth are we going to get out?" We thought they could maybe get out by simply driving straight forward and driving through the bloody great camper-van-sized gap. Not wanting to cause an argument, we found a lovely spot next to the river. 

Tempting though it was to stay in the car and take refreshments there, we headed out to seek entertainment in carnival and fair form.

We were not disappointed. Child and friend head straight for the candy floss, I head straight for the weapons and attempt to win Leanne a ridiculous stuffed Unicorn. The girls were successful, I was not. All I won was a piece of card with two holes in - only one through the star. Leanne was polite in accepting what I’d ‘won’ and managed to hide her disappointment well. On to the carnival.

It was soooo hot, we wandered through the carnival entrants, we were impressed by the variety of vehicles and avoided the bouncy castles, rodeo bull experience and random toilet queue. When we got to the classic cars we knew we were at the end of the display. I’m sure Leanne liked my suggestion of buying a classic car which would mean we would always get a good parking space at such events. Next year, I may just roll up in my Citroen C2, pop the bonnet and stick a random number and rosette on the front - sorted.

People had been lining the streets for hours to get a good view of the procession. We arrived just at the allocated start time. The Police closed the road as we walked up, so we just wandered along the road, and stood right next to the start, in the road, choice.

We were amazed and delighted by the carnival procession. Men with cans of beer dressed as Mary Poppins, girls (Carnival queens) in frilly dresses stuffed into the back of cars waving (what is that all about?) Men dressed as women, women dressed as gnomes, yep just like Pride.

Leanne and I wandered about hand in hand without a care that we might be stared at strangely or challenged. There was so much weird stuff going on around that no one noticed or minded. So my advise to all, if you are the only gay in the village, just go to the carnival to recreate the Pride experience. There maybe fewer moustaches (and they're mainly on the girls) but that’s all.

Back to the car via a little bit of thrill seeking and a proud sunny day was had. Happy Carnival/Pride one and all.