Only connect

In a total inversion of your average parent and child relationship my son often grumbles that I'm endlessly on my iPhone and I don't listen. However, my iPhone helps me find excellent days out for us.

Yesterday we went to Corfe Castle to book tickets for a viewing of the sun rising on the Winter Solstice from the top of the castle on Thursday 22nd December, followed by a breakfast roll and a hot drink. I found out about this via the National Trust app on my iPhone.

Then, as it was pouring, we went to Poole museum. I've been following @poolemuseum on Twitter and they use social media really well. Thankfully the museum itself is great. The highlight is the Iron Age log boat, dredged up in Brownsea harbour in the 1960s which took 40 years to preserve and then display. It's also a good social history museum and my son liked looking at exhibits about shipping and pottery (the main Poole professions) as well as a fabulous temporary display about life in the 1950s.

Also on Twitter and on the web I have been following @kidsinmuseums and their campaign to find the Family Friendly Museum of the Year (#FFMaward). I have taken my son to museums and historic sites since birth and some do the job of capturing kids' interest so very well. I'm considering hard which museum to nominate but I have to say some of the Dorset museums we've visited this year: Poole and Dorchester would definitely be strong candidates.

Finally, I love recording my days on this blog and my son has just, aged 8, started a Tumblr blog. As he's a kid I'm not going to link to it here for his internet safety, but if you know me I'm happy to link you to it, it's lovely.

Whether the weather

Until this year I would have been in Portugal in autumn half term. I love Dorset but the weather can affect what works as a good day out or not. This was rarely an issue on the Algarve.

Wednesday was a day of sunshine and showers. My son was desperate to go to the beach so we went to Studland to walk along the beach. It was really beautiful and busy with families enjoying the half term. History, as always, walks alongside us and we looked at the bunker where Churchill watched the final practice for D-Day. Finally, we noted the berries on the holly. I suspect the blog will be reporting on snowy days out this winter.

Visiting The Hamptons

It's half term so I am not in Leeds. The first weekend was a hen weekend in Windermere. I avoided the Go Ape trip as I am terrified of heights and instead went on a sedate boat trip on the lake.








The Monday was spent travelling down to Dorset to visit my parents. We stopped at a dreadful motorway services at Northampton and then yesterday went to Southampton, hence pun for this blog.

Despite having spent vast amounts of time in Dorset over the past four decades I have never been to Southampton before. I was aware that the Medieval and Regency city was largely obliterated by the Blitz so wasn't expecting much but was pleasantly surprised. The city still has parts of Edward I's city walls which were erected after a French raid.



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We also saw a bar which originally formed the gates to the city.

The central part of the city has a route named the QE2 Mile which is a geographical timeline. You start in the Dark Ages and as you proceed along the route you move forward in time. There are metal plaques in the pavement and it's great for kids to scamper between the signs reading them. These were a few of my favourites:

Along the route is the former church of All Saints which was bombed in World War 2 and the ruins now form a tribute to the lost men of the merchant navy. The building also commemorates a nineteenth century fire in which a number of men lost their lives. The language used on this citation is fabulous:

The final photo relates to the QE2, the luxury cruise liner that was so associated with Southampton. I clearly remember it being deployed to take soldiers to the Falkland Islands and this was mentioned on the memorial.

Afterwards, we visited the Solent Sky aviation museum. Sadly my Twitter addiction had made my batteries run out on my iPhone so I can't share with you the gorgeous Spitfire, Gypsy Hawk Moth and the flying boats. It was a wonderful place to take my son.

Don't dress me as an evacuee, Mum

Last weekend was the first in a long time when I've had a weekend with my son and been well enough to enjoy it. I checked English Heritage and discovered that there was a World War 2 event at Pickering Castle which we hadn't visited before. What I hadn't appreciated was that this weekend was Pickering Wartime Weekend where the whole town decorates their buildings to look like the Blitz is on and people come from all over Britain dressed in appropriate clothes and driving gorgeous cars. I must say as this blog is called 'a 1940s childhood' it's pretty remiss of me to have been unaware of this all these years.

My son loved the 1940s cars parked everywhere and if there's one thing better than a car, it's a tank.

Afterwards we watched a re-enactment of a battle at the castle and he got to learn how to fire a rifle.


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We also went to the train station where we watched a performance of 1940s songs whilst people jived. For some reason I was totally overwhelmed with emotion and ended up near tears. It's something about everyone looking like they belong in wartime and that reality is very moving.

Bunting is the death of feminism

It is raining incessantly in Leeds. My son is at Cub camp in this deluge and probably having a fabulous time as only small, soggy boys can. We have had a quiet few weeks: I was ill and then he was at his Dad's so we haven't had the chance to have any adventures together.

Last night he was under canvas so I went out on Light Night Leeds to see art projects and happenings in the evening. It's a fabulous juxtaposition: lots of art fans filling the streets in coats and scarves next to drunken young things in tiny dresses and precipitous heels.

The main sites I visited were a medieval pageant at Millennium square



Alongside an art gallery in a tiny caravan



I also went into the Carriageworks community theatre which had a hilarious Art Shipping forecast which didn't lend itself to photography and a post-it note installation which I used as a suitable medium to propose to David Tennant, should he be passing.




At Leeds' imposing Victorian Town Hall there was an installation considering the way that disabled people are treated but which just reminded me of Pink Floyd








In the recently renovated cells below the Town Hall was a Craft Garden. The queue for this was immense but an impromptu ukelele and kazoo concert made it a pleasure



Inside the cells were items made by the Craft Club of Leeds: knitted cakes, bunting, lots of origami and made objects

















I have a difficult relationship with crafting and the modern obsession with Cath Kidston and bunting. Whilst I love the patterns I fear a subtext about redefining female as feminine and that we are headed back into the dangerous waters that Betty Friedan was writing about in 'The Feminine Mystique' in the 1950s. It seems to me that there's a move back to women being expected to 'homemake' and that this movement is sold as a fun pastime to be sold on Folksy and Etsy as Mumpreneurship. However, the implied requirement to be able to hold down a full time career, be a parent AND then to have a fulfilling home life that involves making tiny cupcakes and sewing bunting just sets even harder goals for women who already are knackered from the impossible task of balancing work and kids. But, y'know, it is pretty.

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Birthday gifts

I have just had some of the happiest times of my life. On the 8th September I turned 40 and got to spend the weekend with the people I love the most. First call on Friday night was to collect my friend Heather from the airport as she had flown in from Belfast. We drove over the A65 which is a beautiful road through the Yorkshire Dales to overnight at Tewitfield Marina near Carnforth. The house was gorgeous, very comfy with amazing bedding. The best thing was being right up by the canal boats and my son loved looking for fish in the water.









Saturday morning dawned intermittently rainy and sunny and we set off for Eskdale Youth Hostel which I had booked exclusively for my birthday party. Somewhere along the email trail I sent everyone a few people missed the instruction to go the long way round via the coast instead of the short route over Wrynose pass and Hardknott pass (now affectionately renamed 'Kilimanjaro' by my friends). As I have a major fear of heights my Mum observed as they scaled the road "it can't be this way otherwise she won't come to her own party".




This is as close as I am EVER coming to that road.

When my guests arrived we filled them with champagne and cake to recover from the perilous drive. And then, suddenly, the sun came out and all the kids and Dads got to play cricket in the beautiful grounds. It was a moment of total, pure, distilled happiness.







The only child who knew all the other kids was my son but within a few minutes all of them, from 11 year old to 3 years were running around together and inventing games involving climbing on the bunkbeds with balloons. It was lovely.

In the evening we had a delicious three course meal and then the parents danced and drank whilst the kids played. It was lovely.


The night went on with lots of dancing until, at 2am, some lost climbers from Scafell Pike arrived seeking a phone as they had got caught in 100mph winds and had come down the other side of the mountain from where their support teams were. There was no mobile coverage nor cover and they had seen our lights. I think they were totally confused by arriving at such a remote hostel to find a bunch of tiddly city dwellers in party frocks. Thankfully, they managed to get through to their support teams and went off safely.

In the morning we blew the cobwebs away with a walk through Eskdale and the kids played in the stream and did a nature walk (climb).











It was with a happy and sad heart that I came home on Sunday. Special thanks to Richard and Martin at YHA Eskdale who were endlessly lovely.

You know, life does begin at 40.

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Location:Eskdale