Cemeteries ...

I love old cemeteries... .

There’s something about the legion of untold stories that the headstones represent: a silent multitude who have lived and breathed, loved and lost, laughed and cried, in pretty much the same way as we do all of those things today.

Sometimes their stories are hinted at: ‘Precious Daughter’, ‘Beloved Wife and Mother’, ‘Killed in the service of his country’.

But it gets you thinking, doesn’t it? What were they like? How were they mourned? What happened to them?

I’m especially intrigued and touched by those sad little graves that lie just beyond the limit of the consecrated plot. What sin, real of imagined, denied them a decent burial?

One of my favourite churchyards is to be found in Old Chiswick. If you go to Saint Nicholas' Church just on the river-side of the Hogarth roundabout you will find it all there in abundance: a library of forgotten lives.

There’s the grand memorial of William Hogarth (I am a HUGE fan of William Hogarth) with it’s wonderful dedication by his old chum David Garrick:

“Farewell great Painter of Mankind

Who reach’d the noblest point of Art,

Whose pictur’d Morals charm the Mind

And through the eye correct the Heart.”

“If Genius fire thee, Reader, stay

If Nature touch thee, drop a tear:

If neither move thee, turn away

For HOGARTH’S honour’d dust lies here.”

And then there are the folk that no one knows much about like little Nellie, who departed this life January 16^th , 1873 aged only 7 years' old. As a mother, I get a bit emotional when I hang around little Nellie's grave. Poor lamb, may she rest in peace.

To one side of the path that skirts the churchyard there’s this wonderful old garden door, all dark and mysterious. I wonder whether any smugglers or body snatchers or other ne'er-do- wells ever slunk behind it to escape the long arm of the law.

Anyway, I fiddled around with my photo, and turned it into this:

Ta-dah! What do you think? Would it make a good book-jacket cover for a mystery novel?

If you fancy taking a wander down in that direction, you can find out about the Church of St Nicholas here: St Nicholas' Church, Chiswick

Bonny x

just hooking, reading and doing my thing ...

Shush … don’t tell anyone, but I secretly like to crochet (and knit and sew).

It’s one of my guilty pleasures. Guilty? I don’t know, but it just never seemed to be intellectual/ artistic/ interesting enough to talk about. What kind of sad hausfrau would I appear to be if I arrived with my yarn bag under one arm? So my lovely double knitting, super soft cashmerino and multi-coloured four ply all stayed hidden at home.

And then, little by little, people seem to have rediscovered the pleasure of quietly creating something unique in a palette of colour that pleases their eye. Stitch by stitch it’s become respectable, therapeutic, trendy even, to crochet and knit again. Groups have grown up of like-minded people who want to get together for a knit and a natter.

Perfect! How lovely! Now I can take my needles out of the closet and practise my passion in public.

I’ve often wondered whether someone like Tracy Chevalier shared my secret enthusiasm? Have you read, ‘The Last Runaway’, her latest book? It’s about an English Quaker girl, who emigrates to America and gets involved in rescuing escaped slaves as part of the Underground Railway movement. One of the many charming things about the tale is the way Tracy describes the lead character’s love of quilting. Either she has done her homework very thoroughly, and then used a lot of empathy/ imagining to get it spot on, or she’s done some sewing in between times.

I especially loved the way bits of fabric, from a loved one’s cast-off dress/ tablecloth/whatever, would be stashed away, and later incorporated into a quilt, and a memory would get stitched into a practical, intimate, everyday object that would become a very physical connection with the past. That’s got to be the ultimate up-cycle!

Anyway if you haven’t’ read it, and especially if you enjoyed ‘The Lady and the Unicorn’, in which she did a great job of recreating the workshop of the fifteenth century tapestry weavers in Paris, go get yourself a copy. It’s a delightful read.

Enjoy!

Bonny x