PENELOPE HEMINGWAY
I made some databases, number crunching the known Dales knitters from the censuses 1841-61. And it’s been some time but our day out yesterday in rainy, beautiful Gayle and Hawes made me think that some of you, Dear Readers, might be interested to see this data …
Recently, I was behind the scenes at The Dales Countryside Museum in Hawes. There to read the (unpublished) diary of Marie Hartley, one of the co-authors of ‘The Old Hand-Knitters of the Dales’ (1951). I’ll be transcribing the relevant parts of Miss Hartley’s diary over the coming months. Earlier diaries covered her writing partnership with […]
Soon I will be working on a project replicating some Roman linen, found in a stone sarcophagus a metre from my childhood garden. Turns out, a lost Roman road ran along the width of our old orchard and high status burials were found along it. Thereby hangs a fascinating tale but I’ll tell it sometime […]
“Soft Rainy Morn. Bradford Fair. Heard Samuel Myers Mason say when repairing Tadcaster dam they found a great deal many human Skeletons near the Surface…”
I’ve had a lifelong obsession with John Keats, and yet not been able to weave him into my work, until now. I had somehow forgotten or missed these words in Keats’ letter to his brother Tom, from the summer of 1818 when he made his walking tour of Westmorland, Scotland and Ireland, writing home to Tom as he lay dying at Well Walk, Edmonton. How did I forget this? As soon as I saw this paragraph, I knew I’d have to write about it…
…In the Before Times, our talks were mainly in the North of England. But tomorrow, wherever you are, you can come and see us …
Sort of explains why my input here has been sporadic in the past year…
Over on my other blog, new post about something that lives in my wardrobe. And it’s not moths. Read and enjoy! I won’t repost it here, just send you on an Expedition over there…
… This ‘feminising’ led to knitting being perceived as an ‘idle’ waste of time; an amateur feminine pursuit to be followed safely from within the cage of domesticity; a belittling of both craft and women. “The Little Women” of nineteenth century novels, were kept quiet – and in a back room – by the needle; patronised and diminished into being “small”; their concerns and their Art, also perceived as insignificant…
“…These men have a decided provincial character; and their galloways also, which are always overloaded, have a manner of going peculiarly their own…”
PENELOPE HEMINGWAY 