I remember those days of yore...

...when Mum would look after me if I was ill.  Happy days.  But, I wouldn't do anything to change my new role, I'm the one looking after my poorly Chatterbox. Poor thing, she has a sore throat and tummy ache.

Ooh, shiny computer screen!

Day 1, the blogging challenge begins...

I'm taking part in Jen from Conversion Diary's 7 Posts in 7 Days Epic Blogging Challenge.

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My two girls love one another deeply, but they also love to annoy one another.  Last Tuesday I mentioned about how Chatterbox was annoying Squidge by singing the tune to Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring in a loud and rather obnoxious voice.

Here's the full story:

I've sent them both upstairs to tidy their rooms because every surface, including the floor and tops of their wardrobes, is strewn with stuff.  It's not long before Chatterbox starts singing Bach's lovely tune in an annoying shouty voice.

A few seconds pass, then I hear Squidge shout downstairs, "MUMMYYYYYYYY, B IS DISTRACTING ME, I CAN'T CONCENTRATE!"

"What sort of concentration does one need to tidy a room," I muse to myself, but say shout, "JUST GET ON WITH IT!" [My neighbours must love this, we have thin walls, ha].

A few minutes pass, then Squidge is in floods of tears storming down the stairs. "MUMMMMMMMY, B WON'T LISTEN TO ME!" [Then in 1940's melodramatic actress mode] "NEVER, in my ENTIRE LIFE, has anyone ignored me like this!"

I must admit I laughed, so she backtracked a bit.

"Well, people have ignored me before, BUT NEVER B, NEVER LIKE THIS!" More wailing.

Now Chatterbox is stomping down the stairs mouthing protestations of innocence, etc.  So Squidge ratches it up a notch.

"AND! AND, she THREW me out of her bedroom!!"

"I didn't THROW her out of my bedroom, I asked her nicely to leave but she wouldn't, so I picked her up and put her outside my room!" Sayeth the Chatterbox.

"AND THEN, SLAMMED THE DOOR!" adjoined Squidge.

"The window was open!  A breeze took it from my hands!"

"No it didn't, YOU slammed it!"

"No I didn't, Mummy I DIDN'T!"

You're not allowed to laugh, because this is a LIFE AND DEATH situation.  So I tell them to get a grip and get on with tidying their rooms.  It isn't long before they're best of friends again and making new mess with their Build-a-Bears.

 I love being a Mum.

For ye are living poems...

Come to me, O ye children!

And whisper in my ear

What the birds and the winds are singing

In your sunny atmosphere.

For what are all our contrivings,

And the wisdom of our books,

When compared with your caresses,

And the gladness of your looks?

Ye are better than all the ballads

That ever were sung or said;

For ye are living poems,

And all the rest are dead.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Oh I do so love Longfellow...

The reason I post this poem is because I read an interesting BBC article about procuring happiness and those things which researchers have determined cause us humans most happiness.  I concurred with most of the article until I came to this part:

Having children lowers your happiness levels, but your happiness increases when they grow up and leave home.

Shocking.  I wonder why?  From the very day they were born my children have brought me the most joy.  Honestly, I never knew such consuming love before.  The moment my first child was born I was overwhelmed.  Joy doesn't even describe it. Basically, they make me unbelievably happy.

I am confused.  I wonder why so many are made less happy by their children?

I rather think it is not children that cause unhappiness for people, I think it is selfishness.  Many people today have bought into the lie that in order to be happy you need oodles of money (something children eat-up at an alarming rate), you need oodles of leisure time (something that children have a lot of but parents have very little), and you need a high flying career (something that is certainly made less easy by the birth of a very small and demanding personage)...and of course if you can be visibly socially and politically active too even better (you don't get much praise for that meal you cooked again for your family and the toilet floor you just cleaned because one of them missed the bowl again!).

It is also remarkable that I should read this today after watching a short performance by the In Yer Face theatre company at the Urban Hero Awards last night.  The skit concerned a middle-class couple who, because of high earnings, had lost their Child Benefit.  Due to this loss of income the couple had decided to sell their child on eBay because he was no longer a lucrative investment.  It was funny, but with an important point.  Society today treats children today like a commodity.   But here's the truth, if you have a child they are your responsibility - not the government, not the school, not the rest of the world - your child is your responsibility.

If you have a child, you are responsible to feed them, clothe them and keep them safe; these are the basic needs of any human being.  But being a parent carries an extra responsibility, one which often determines the life course your child will follow - you are responsible to love that child with an unconditional, undistracted, unselfish love.

We all fail in some way as parents, I fail regularly.  I get frustrated by my children, I get cross at them, and sometimes I really, really don't want to get up off my chair and play a game with them when actually I want to play another game of Bejeweled on my phone! *ahem*  But this attitude is wrong and every parent should fight against it in themselves. None of us are perfect, but the overwhelming urge in every parent should be to love their children unconditionally and constantly.  Deep down we all know this, that is why our selfishness makes us so unhappy, because every human has that heavenly spark within them that is doused and quenched when we treat another person as less important than ourselves.  The serpent's deception causes us to blame our children for that unhappiness. 

But from the very beginning, God has sung a different song, a Psalmody of love.

He gives the barren woman a home, making her the joyous mother of children.Praise the LORD! ~Psalm 113:9

Behold, children are a heritage from the LORD, the fruit of the womb a reward. Like arrows in the hand of a warrior are the children of one’s youth. Blessed is the man who fills his quiver with them! He shall not be put to shame when he speaks with his enemies in the gate. ~Psalm 127:3-5

For God, every human from the very moment of conception, and even before, are precious in His sight:

For you formed my inward parts; you knitted me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.Wonderful are your works; my soul knows it very well. My frame was not hidden from you,when I was being made in secret, intricately woven in the depths of the earth.  ~Psalm 139:13-15

God created us with this deep within us, the knowledge that just as we are precious in His sight, so are our children.  And yet His voice is often drowned out by the sinister lies of the serpent.

Children are a gift, a precious gift.  They are like tiny seeds planted in our lives.  They need nurture and care so that they grow straight and tall.  If we treat them like inconvenient annoyances that frustrate our every turn they will grow stunted and bent.  Weighed down by our words, our behaviour, and our countenances, they too will seek happiness in places that they will find neither peace nor joy but only pain, despair, and destructiveness.

For they are living poems and each day another line is added to the poetry of their lives.

Your eyes saw my unformed substance; in your book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed for me, when as yet there was none of them. ~Psalm 139:16

"Which do you choose?...

Should I come with a rod to punish you, or should I come with love and a gentle spirit?"  (1 Cor 4:21) 

It is interesting...or disturbing...well both, that I come across many Christian writers who claim that corporal punishment is an aid to the spiritual upbringing of children.  That it will 'drive out sin'.

One of the scriptures quoted in line with this idea is:


Withhold not correction from the child: for if thou beatest him with the rod, he shall not die. Thou shalt beat him with the rod, and shalt deliver his soul from hell. ~ Proverbs 23:13-14

I always wonder about such Christians.  Why do they believe that corporal punishment will 'drive sin out' of a child? That it will save a child's soul from hell?  Why would a Christian believe this?  On the one hand we say that salvation only comes through faith in Jesus Christ, but for some reason if you're under the age of 18 then salvation comes by being beaten with a stick?  Mmm, no...

The only Rod that can saves souls is the Rod of Jesse - Jesus.  He took the punishment we deserve, therefore because of Him we are saved from punishment.  So why do we add extra punishment for children?

We are under the new covenant.  The writer of Proverbs is writing under the old covenant.  Why do some parents think that children are different than adults in this sense?  Children need the saving grace of God in Jesus Christ.  Corporal punishment will not save their soul from hell.

I also read often that corporal punishment apparently encourages first time obedience.  The idea is that ensuring first time obedience to parents is an essential step in training a child to obey the Lord.  But again, we are under the new covenant.  Our obedience to God comes not from physical chastisement but from our belief in Christ.  Our doing of good works comes not from fear of punishment but from our love of God because He first loved us and expressed that love by sending His only Son to die for us.

Thus we cannot 'train' a child to be obedient to God.  Physical chastisement may mean that a child acts obedient, but God is interested in their hearts.  How can their hearts be changed?  By Jesus. 

I pray that my children will obey me because they honour me, not because they are afraid of me; most of all I pray they will be obedient to God because they love Jesus.

Dear brothers and sisters, if another believer is overcome by some sin, you who are godly should gently and humbly help that person back onto the right path. (Galatians 6:1)

My gorgeous girl

Ready for high school (she's 11 in August), but still my little girl.  Still a chatterbox, always smiling.  Her primary school reports from nursery until her final year start with saying how smiley she is to ending with how smiley she is.  My gorgeous girl. 

And also her Granddad's little girl. :)

Walking back from the beach in Devon, tired out from catching crabs and shrimp in rock pools and playing in the icy sea on the bodyboard.

Teach Children the Bible is Not About Them

I just read the most wonderful article which Ann Voskamp at Holy Experience linked to the other day.  The article is Teach Children the Bible is Not About Them by Sally Lloyd-Jones at Desiring God.  A quote:

"That the Bible isn’t mainly about me, and what I should be doing. It’s about God and what he has done

That the Bible is most of all a story — the story of how God loves his children and comes to rescue them.

That — in spite of everything, no matter what, whatever it cost him — God won’t ever stop loving his children… with a wonderful, Never Stopping, Never Giving Up, Unbreaking, Always and Forever Love.

That the Bible, in short, is a Story — not a Rule Book — and there is only one Hero in the Story."

It's made me really think about my approach to reading the Bible with my children...

One more week to goooooo!

Things have been manic at school (for those that don't know I work in the kitchen at my girls' school).  But yay! school holidays begin Friday...though I have to work Monday...but yay!

I love being at home.  Other mums might complain about the long school holidays, but I love it!  Even when I didn't work in the school I loved the school holidays.

Just a few more sleeps! :)

Bits n' Bobs, Here and There.

Just a quick post because I need to go and make tea.

It's Squidge's birthday today, she's 8.  We were going to go swimming but she changed her mind at the last minute and wanted to go to a play-centre (you know an indoor thing with slides, and ball pools, etc.).  The day started off well with present opening, but rapidly degenerated into, "The WORST birthday EVER!" after she had an argument with Chatterbox.  But that feeling was short lived and they had fun at the play-centre.

We went to a Jubilee party on Tuesday at Hubs' Mom and Dad's church.  It was lots of fun with jolly singing of the National Anthem, prayer for the Queen, a bouncy castle, face-painting, children's games, a quiz, and a big feast (hot-dogs and burgers).  Squidge won a prize, she was so shocked. Lol, the look on her face.  Hubs and a friend of ours did the adults' quiz and got most of the answers right but instead of putting his own name at the top of the sheet he put Squidge's.  She won a union flag mug, a giant union flag pen, a Jubilee New Testament and a tin of biscuits. :)

On Wednesday some of us from work went on the train to a fantastic chippy (fish and chip shop - this one had a small restaurant at the back) and then walked home via the canal path.  It was lovely until it started to pelt it down with rain, then one of the ladies' daughters got blisters and couldn't walk, then Squidge needed the loo.  So Chatterbox and two of the other children were picked up by the other children's Dad and taken home, the rest of us nipped into a pub so that Squidge could go to the loo, then we decided to stay for a drink and warmed ourselves up with a nice hot cup of coffee and some jubilee cakes.  The rain continued to pelt down so we wussed out and got a taxi the rest of the way. Lol.

Anyway, that's my week so far. :)

Bits n' Bobs

Being blown about like kites...

Here are a couple of videos from yesterday. When we got home from school yesterday we wanted to go and find out just how windy it really was, our house was quite sheltered.We certainly enjoyed the gales as we felt the dying effects of Hurricane Katia - obviously no longer a hurricane but more a bit of a gale! The girls fell over a few times though!! LOL.

Wind across the lake:



The girls striding forth, can you see that they both have 'staffs'. Chatterbox announced that she was Moses! :):



I really enjoyed our time out. As we walked I thanked God that we live in such a beautiful place. The fresh air was wonderful, the hills were (as ever) magnificent), the gales were entertaining, and I love spending time with my girls. Just lovely.

Busy bee

I've just been offered another 20 hours a week work at the school where I work (I currently work 10 hours a week in the kitchen). It'll be in the office, it's only until the end of term (2 weeks and 2 days). This has come as a blessing from God - we need the money and I need some more recent office experience (it's what I used to do before I had kiddiwinks).

The good thing is that there is only 1/2 an hour of it which is outside school hours, so my parents will have the girls for that 1/2 hour before I finish. My parents only live over the road from school so it works out great. It's also only until the end of term, there is no work during the holidays except for the one day I have to go in to help clean in the kitchen)

I know it will be hard, it's a big jump in hours. So my 31 Days of Prayer series may fall by the wayside - you understand. If you've been praying along with me I've provided the link to the site in my 31 Days posts, so you can pop over there on the days I miss out.

We had a busy weekend. Hubs' work had their open day on Saturday, so we were there all day. It was amazing to hear of the work that they do. They work in young people's lives and many have been brought to salvation in Jesus. They work in prisons, on the streets, in homes, in churches, in missions...and then more. It's amazing to hear testimonies that tell of drug addicts turning to Jesus and giving up their old life and restoring their family life, etc. It was a fun day too, the girls had a wonderful time, playing on bouncy castles and having their faces painted.

Sunday was busy too, we went to church as usual, came home, had dinner. A girl from church came over to play, they're bouncing on the trampoline and I suddenly hear, "GET MUMMY, ARGHHHH, GET MUMMY, ARGHHHH!" Well, my heart was in my mouth. It's Chatterbox, she's gone over on her ankle and can't move her foot and it screaming in agony.

So off we go to the hospital. Wait, wait, wait. See nurse. Wait, wait, wait some more. See another nurse. Sent off to X-ray. Get X-rays result card. Go back to nurse. Wait, wait, wait some more. Nurse sees us and says we need to wait for a doctor to see the X-rays. So we wait, wait and wait some more. Eventually we are told the foot isn't broken but she's damaged her tendon. So plenty of rest, up on a cushion with ice on it for a while. No sports for 2 weeks.

Poor Chatterbox. Her foot is a nice shade of purple and is swelled up like a balloon. But the poor thing, she's going to miss Sports Day at school, she's going to miss her day of meeting her teacher for next year, she's going to miss her Greek food tasting day. She also can't go dancing for 2 weeks.

Poor little mite. They have said she can do some light walking on it, best to move it about a little because it will heal better. So I'm hoping she can go back to school before the end of term. She just won't be able to run about.

Edit to add: Husband not impressed that I didn't mention that it was his birthday on Sunday. So here goes...it was hubs' birthday on Sunday! He had lots of fun missing the tennis final so that he could sit in a hospital waiting room for hours on end! :P

Anyway, not sure when I will post again. Hope you all have a wonderful week.

Hugs.

Oh Sisyphus, I understand.

The gods had condemned Sisyphus to ceaselessly rolling a rock to the top of a mountain, whence the stone would fall back of its own weight. They had thought with some reason that there is no more dreadful punishment than futile and hopeless labour. ~Albert Camus

I love my home. I really do. Many a post I have written about home - and I'll always be passionate about making a home for my family. But, of late, too much I have concentrated on housework and not home, until I am Sisyphus endlessly pushing that rock that never reaches the top of the mountain. I am the woman that Rudyard Kipling speaks of: You sometimes see a woman who would have made a Joan of Arc in another century and climate, threshing herself to pieces over all the mean worry of housekeeping (From Plain Tales of the Hills, Rudyard Kipling). But I am a perfectionist. I make no joy of my housework, but make myself a martyr to it. If I haven't thoroughly cleaned my living room by Tuesday I am stressed. But who made the rule that it must be done by Tuesday? Me. And if it is done by Tuesday by Wednesday it looks like it did Monday, so then I'm stressed again. Oh Sisyphus, I understand!

But what is the plan? Yikes, I always need a plan (that can't be good). Moving on with trepidation then...

• Firstly, the husbando helpfully informed me that I simply have to lower my standards - yep, still working on that.
• Secondly, I have decided to enjoy my home - that is not the perfection of the cleanliness (no cleanliness ISN'T next to godliness!) but the family and friends therein.
• Thirdly, I will remember one of my favourite quotes by Thomas More: the ordinary arts we practice every day at home are of more importance to the soul than their simplicity might suggest.To enjoy each simple task in itself. It's not a race, it's not a competition. To find God in the small things and to thank Him for it.

I'm not sure if Sisyphus really did find life meaning in the all-encompassing task of pushing that rock up the hill (as Albert Camus suggests), I'm sure he'd much rather stop and do something else for a bit at least! Surely there had to be a worthwhile point to his rolling?

But will my inherent perfectionism let me let go? Watch this space. Can you make home without the perfect house? Intriguing.

I'll leave the last words to Mother Teresa:

Love begins at home, and it is not how much we do...but how much love we put in that action
~ Mother Teresa

Anyway, enough of my mardy moaning, let's talk about the Kittehs!

Here's a cute site: Cat in a box We all know that if there is a box and a kitty the kitty will be in the box. Rather like if there is a kitty and a piece of paper in the middle of the floor, before long the kitty will be sat in the middle of the paper. We love the kittehs.

Toodle-pip chaps.

I am the fairest daughter of the year.

Mine is the Month of Roses; yes, and mine
The Month of Marriages! All pleasant sights
And scents, the fragrance of the blossoming vine,
The foliage of the valleys and the heights.
Mine are the longest days, the loveliest nights;
The mower's scythe makes music to my ear;
I am the mother of all dear delights;
I am the fairest daughter of the year.
- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

June is a lovely month, not quite summer, not quite the end of Spring. That joyous moment between, before we all start to think about Christmas...Ahem.

It is also the month of Squidge's birthday...the fairest daughter of the year. Well, along with Chatterbox, who - bien sûr - is also a fair daughter! :)

Squidge is 7 years old. I'm so proud of my little girl, she's a little treasure.

Boots is in every birthday photo of course, she's quite the kitty Prima Donna.

Have a super-dooper week.

Pip, pip!

Dancin' the Irish Way

We were watching a dancing competition on television today when a beautiful little Irish dancer performed.

Immediately Squidge was up and dancing...





Then in from the wings came...Chatterbox

Things got very lively.

I wish I had all that energy. :)

Bits and Bats and Books

Just a few pictures from Christmas and then a little about books.

I do so love the snow, January is now rather bleak and soggy. The previous two pictures were taken in December when heavy snow was falling, my camera, unfortunately didn't pick up the flakes.

Squidge opening her presents on Christmas morn. Can you see her fantastic 'bed-hair', she is always in full 'fluff' in the morning.

Chatterbox opening a present from her Nana and Grandpa. Can you see the white box on the sofa behind? That is a thermometer, we were only just getting over the flu then.

After church we went to my Mum and Dad's house for Christmas dinner. More presents were opened!

After Christmas we visited Hub's brother, wife and two children (including a cute new baby) for new year. Here's Chatterbox and I checking out facebook I think! :)

~ooOoo~

Books

I'm afraid I've given up on The Three Musketeers. I'm over halfway through and all the characters are still annoying me and I'm yearning for the book to be over. There's never any reason to continue reading a book that is so disagreeable (unless you're at school and you have to!). I would like to read Dumas' The Count of Monte Christo because I loved the film. Cabcree, if you're reading, I seem to remember you really like The Count of Monte Christo book?

Here are a few reasons why I don't like The Three Musketeers personally: 1) D'Artagnan - honestly, he's so 'in love' with Constance Bonacieux, even though he's only spoke about two words to her and she's married; 2) Nobody seems to be able to trip up near another character without being challenged to a duel. So what if bodies line the streets a man's honour is at stake!; 3) Despite D'Artagnan's 'love' for C. Bonacieux he's been romancing 'Milady' and upsetting her servant Kitty who is in love with D'Artagnan - but of course he works hard to keep Kitty in love with him because his ego is so huge; 4) Aramis is apparently a theologian who can't decide if he's to join the church or be a musketeer - of course a big bag of money and a pretty woman with always change his mind from the church...I could go on, but I'm sure I'm boring you. I just cannot put up with these characters. I want to bang their heads together more than I did with Austen's 'Emma'. LOL! :) I suppose a lot of it is supposed to be perhaps tongue-in-cheek, but I don't get the joke, so I give up!

On to the kiddiwink's books:

I was reading The Children of Green Knowe with Chatterbox. Somehow the book has lost a little of its charm for me. Maybe it's because I read the book originally in my early teens after watching the BBC adaptation, which is simply magical: Here is episode 1 on Youtube. The book is good, don't get me wrong, but it isn't an easy read-aloud book. It isn't divided into chapters and is very descriptive. It also raises some theological questions about dead people walking about that maybe you might not want to delve into with your child. I simply explained it was a fantasy to Chatterbox and she seemed to accept that. Also, I was rather amused that Tolly 'saw dead people...walking about like regular people', rather like the child in the film The Sixth Sense. Some children could find it creepy, some adults could find it creepy. But we finished it and she seemed to enjoy it.

But onto more solid jolly good books...like the Famous Five! Chatterbox wanted me to read to her one of the High School Musical books that she'd picked up from the library, and whilst I haven't banned her from reading them I certainly am NOT going to read it to her. "It's trash! I exclaimed." :)

So we compromised and picked up one of the old Famous Five books I'd picked up in our Antiquarian book shop. Oh it's just wonderful to behold!

Lovely old hardback. Smells old and fusty. Super.

Beautifully illustrated.

And with a charming inscription. Funny how Father Christmas's handwriting changes with each family. :)

We've only just started. The joy is, I don't remember this particular Famous Five story. So it's quite an adventure of our own. :)

~ooOoo~

It's back to school for the girls and back to work and the old routine for me. I was so behind after being ill and then Christmas. But things seem to be back on track. Something always comes up though, life never just smooths along does it? :)

Hope you're having a lovely January. Just remember, Spring is coming! :)

Misty Frosty

It's been all of a Sherlock Holmsey TV show foggy out there yesterday. The freezing fog left a layer of frost on everything. I didn't have much time to take many pictures but I got a few. The spiders' webs were beautiful.







This week has been busy busy. The girls are doing their school Christmas shows this week. It was Squidge's show today. She was a fairy ballerina dancing to the Dance of the Sugar Plum fairy from the Nutcracker suite. She danced beautifully. Though like every mother watching these sort of productions I couldn't get enough photos for other children getting in the way! Lol. :) It was good that I could sit at the front though, I zoomed through my work and was allowed to get out earlier so that I could get to the hall to get a great seat. I haven't got any pictures I can show, but she looked very pretty in a fairy outfit that someone bought her last year for Christmas.

Chatterbox's performance is on Thursday. She is supposed to be a Victorian Londoner. Here is the outfit I made for her from an old nightdress, lace from an underskirt, and old skirt of my Nan's and an old top of mine. I can't wait to see her show.





I can't wait for Christmas! I love this time of year.

Hugs.

Autumn activities and traditions

We made Autumn box gardens. It was Squidge who insisted we made these, she'd got the idea from one of her library books. Squidge and I had lots of fun collecting all the leaves and twigs and whatnot. Once Chatterbox saw Squidge's box she wanted to make one too!







Perhaps this will become a new autumn tradition.

Speaking of autumn traditions, when I was younger me and my mum used to make Jack O'Lanterns with swedes (no I don't mean Swedish people I mean rutabagas which are known as swedes (swedish turnip) over here!). This is the first year I've bought pumpkins. I thought they'd be solid like swedes, so I planned to make soup or whatever with the innards. So I was very surprised to find they are pretty much hollow! The Jack O'Lantern is a product of an old Irish folklore tale (well as far as I know it is!) :) In case you're wondering, I know the Jack O'Lantern is now associated with Halloween, but we just made these for fun.



Another Autumn tradition is the game of conkers. We collected loads after church from the horse chestnut tree across the road from church. It's very hard to collect conkers in heels! We used some to decorate the garden boxes and we saved some for the game. Hubs is going to get us some string.




Lovely and shiny aren't they? Horse chestnut isn't edible. You know I've never had sweet chestnut!

Hope you had a lovely weekend!

Oh half-term where did you go?

Britain's bread hangs by Lancashire's thread.

Yesterday, we visited Queen Street Mill in Burnley. It has a fine example of,

"[an] original Lancashire boiler, the 500 horse power tandem compound steam engine “PEACE”, the line shafting which runs throughout the mill and the 19th century looms connected to it."

It's a fascinating place. It continued to work until it was forced to close in the 1980s as it was unable to compete with cheaper manufacturing methods. The working steam engine was so interesting, particularly watching the man setting it all up.

They have many old looms and other weaving paraphernalia. The history is fascinating, looking at the old working practices and the equipment.

A working day in the Victorian mill started at 6.00 am, at 8.00 am they had half an hour for breakfast, then at 12 noon they had an hour for dinner, then the looms worked until 5.30 pm. They worked a six day week - but they finished earlier on a Saturday.

I was rather amused by this old 'rules' poster from 1851. So I bought it on a printed tea-towel.

"If two persons are known to be in one Necessary together they shall be fined 3d each; and if any Man or Boy go into the Women's Necessary he shall be instantly dismissed."

"The Masters would recommend that all their workpeople Wash themselves every morning, but they shall wash themselves at least twice every week, Monday morning and Thursday morning; and any found not washed will be fined 3d for each offence".

Fascinating and rather amusing. With all the fines for this that and the other I'm amazed that they managed to actually make any money. The workers were paid for piece work, that is they were paid for the amount they produced. If anything broke down or if the steam engine wasn't working then it was the workers who suffered.

Instead of working until a task had been finished, and then taking it to the employer's warehouse and picking up new work, factory workers' lives were governed by the clock and by the need to produce as much as possible during their long working hours. They were paid according to the output of the machine. Printed rules were pinned up to maintain work discipline, and people were fined for late arrival or for breaking the rules. Children were sometimes subjected to beatings for falling asleep over their work, especially in the early years, when some were contracted out by workhouses as 'pauper apprentices' and badly abused. BBC

The cotton mills employed a large female workforce.

Throughout the period, a high proportion of factory workers were women (more than 60 per cent of the workforce at the end of the period) and children, many of whom were taken out of school at the earliest opportunity to boost the family's earning power. Women were heavily concentrated into weaving, the preparation of cotton for spinning in the dirty and dusty conditions of the cardroom, and ring spinning, a new technology which appeared in the 1880s. Especially unusual was the high proportion of married women, who formed more than one-third of the female labour force in certain weaving towns. BBC

At the top of my post, you can see an old photograph of a cotton mill weaving shed. The noise is horrendous - and as you can see from the following video (click link) only one loom is being worked and the noise is deafening. See this short video here: Lady making calico at queen street textile mill. Most mill workers suffered from hearing problems. In order to communicate workers used 'mee maw'.

mee maw

Verb. To pull faces. From the exaggerated expressions made on the faces of conversing mill workers, in an attempt to make themselves understood over the din of machinery. [Lancashire use. 1900s?] (from here)

My great-grandmother worked in the mills - in fact most of my ancestors were weavers (and some were hatters). She was profoundly deaf.

~oOo~

This morning we went over to church and met up with some other children. My friend had organised a treasure hunt and some other games to play. They had lots of fun. After dinner (lunch) Chatterbox went to a friend's house to play and for tea and Squidge and I went on an autumnal walk. Squidge wants to make a 'garden in a box'. So hubs has brought home some boxes from work and we are going to arrange Squidge's finds like a little autumnal garden tomorrow.

After our walk Squidge arranged the table for tea. She wanted to make it pretty. Didn't she do well? :)


I can't believe that it's Thursday evening and half-term week is almost over. It's far too short.

Rainy day

Be still, sad heart! and cease repining;

Behind the clouds is the sun still shining;
Thy fate is the common fate of all,
Into each life some rain must fall,
Some days must be dark and dreary.
~Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

It's been a grey dreary day. The rain has not ceased to fall since early morning. But there's something lovely about sitting indoors in a warm house with a cosy lamp on. Fussing a dozing cat whilst reading. I've also cleaned Chatterbox's room and posted a letter. We then caught up on some school homework and reading. After lunch it was time for the rainy day stalwart of every mother - painting.

I LOVE this sort of day.

We painted rocks and eggs. I tried to get the egg out of the shell by piercing a hole in both ends of the egg and blowing. Firstly I find that a bit yukky and had to spray the egg first with antibacterial spray (obsessive me) and then I blew as hard as I could. When I started to see stars and everything was turning black I decided to just make a bigger hole in the bottom of the egg and shake the stuff out! It's OK. We'll just arrange the eggs so you can't see the hole. :)

Chatterbox's stone

The Finished products:

Some more painting:

by Chatterbox

by Squidge

Squidge (age 6) is very good at painting. Here is her 'Monet' picture done at school:

Here are Chatterbox's 'Monet' paintings also done at school when she was 6:


Aren't they clever? I should start a gallery, lol.