A Month In Pictures

December will be magic again.  I'm only just starting to believe Kate's festive lyrics after a couple of weeks of neck/shoulder pain (finally resolved by a pummelling from the chiropractor), swiftly followed by one of the worst colds I've had.  Here in the UK, we're dropping like flies with a perfect storm of Covid, flu and various other seasonal viruses circulating and spreading their own individual Christmas messages.

Should anyone fall foul of one of these viruses, I've done thorough market research on the over the counter remedies available.  The upshot is, most of them do absolutely nothing, so keep your hard earned cash in your pockets.  However, for persistent coughs, the only throat sweets I have found to be remotely effective are Lockets.  The only cough medicine that packs a punch is the Lemsip one.  But for evenings in, I recommend ye olde hot toddy, comprising the juice of half a lemon, a good teaspoon of honey, hot water and don't spare the brandy.

Anyway,let's move on.  The only good thing I can say about the last week is that I've stayed close to home, not wanting to spread my germs with the rest of the family by driving anywhere and consequently, I've managed to get some moody shots of the Black Country, by venturing out on foot.  The seasons definitely dictate how I see the world and I'm currently finding it impossible to extricate myself from my love affair with black and white.  This one was taken a couple of streets away.  I love this tree lined street and the way the sun bounces off its rain slicked surface.

Here's a suburban snapshot in a puddle...I was drawn to the lines.

Here's a typical Black Country boozer.

Venturing on to the neighbouring village, Wordsley, here we glimpse the old house at the entrance to King George V Park, flanked by some impressive monkey puzzle trees.

Another day, another detour through the side streets of Wordsley.  Can you spot the famous Red House Glass Cone?

Some old factory units, still in use and housing a small car repair service.  I wonder how many more years these buildings will exist?

Onto the canal...a sure sign you're in the Black Country.  The network was used to move coal, limestone and iron around the country and whole communities sprung up around them.  Life on the canal is much more sedate these days.

Onwards we go, past my first primary school, The Brook, first established in 1872 and attended by my Mom when it was a secondary school.  Some time in the 70s, the secondary school relocated and this building reverted to being a primary school.

The only pupils in attendance on the day of my visit were of the feathered variety and had flown in from Canada.  

This was my regular route to school as a small child.  For the longest time, there was some graffiti dedicated to the Irish band Thin Lizzy on the white expanse of wall.  I felt a little sad when suddenly one day, it had vanished.

Another glimpse of that cone.

Nature overspill.

Back on the towpath and the Red House Cone in all her glory, newly restored and imposing.

Rewinding a little, we went to see some more live music, courtesy of Black Country band Headshrinkers.  Securing my position at the front because I was relying on my mobile camera (and because I just love feeling the music and leaving with my ears ringing), I took a few shots, composing, framing and checking focus single handedly, as my other hand was rarely without a beer.  We had a blast and were blown away (almost literally) by the band's raucous noisy energy, lyricism and sheer talent, plus a welcome horn section.

They were ably supported by a female fronted band, Bld Sugr! (Blood Sugar).  The vocalist loved her theatrics and had a good set of pipes as our friend Ade pointed out.

After the show, Gareth snaffled a couple of vinyl editions of Headshrinkers' new album Judgment Day.  I had a brief chat with the lead singer, Garran, during which we discovered that we'd been following each other on Instagram for the last two years.  I hadn't made the connection prior to that evening, probably because it's a personal account and he posts less frequently than I do.  I really need to address my spiralling screen time!

I loved that the band are proud of their Black Country roots, Garran's lyrics are poetry and their videos are shot at various locations close to home.  I hope they make it!  Here's a link to Threadbare, which has proved to be an earworm and also features Dudley Priory ruins, which you may recall I also used as a location for my Halloween Steampunk shoot last year.

Headshrinkers - Threadbare (Official Video)

Staying with the black and white imagery, I made a final visit to Archie's Attic in Enville.  That's the beauty of our region, urban sprawl with a gritty industrial heritage, punctuated by pockets of picturesque countryside.  

Archie's is in a hamlet called Enville, seemingly in the middle of nowhere (but a short drive from the town of Stourbridge) with views to die for, an intriguing history and at least two Knights Templar graves.  The owner and great supporter of local crafters and creatives, Clare is moving on to pastures new.  The cafe will continue though, under different management and will be reopening in mid January.

I never tire of this magical place built around the historic Enville Hall.

I want this sign!

Mistletoe.

My one regret - unavoidable as it was - was that I was too unwell to go to see Sharon Shannon's Big Band Tribute to Shane MacGowan in Birmingham's Irish heart, Digbeth, on Friday.  Unsurprisingly, it was by all accounts an incredible evening, featuring the likes of Imelda May and former Pogue Kate O'Riordan.

So, I'll just have to make do with my vinyl copy of my favourite Christmas song, Fairytale of New York.

Oh, and because they look festive, I'm sharing the spools from one of this month's rare charity shop visits, where I managed to bag all the reds; a pair of leather gloves and a cashmere asymmetrical poncho.

Whatever you're doing, have a good one!  

The Indian Influence

As I write, we're at the back end of a rare phenomenon in the UK - a sunny May Bank Holiday weekend!  The dawn chorus (and I've been awake to hear more than a few of those lately) has been more robust and musical, the brilliant morning sunlight has worked its way around the edges of our blackout blind providing that unmistakable glow of optimism and the smell of summer has wafted through the open bedroom window on a gentle breeze.  It's been nothing short of bliss.

Dandelion clock from the garden

We celebrated a good friend's birthday on Saturday evening at a BBQ (remember those?)  Birthday boy Ade was dressed in a poncho and cowboy hat and the fact that no-one batted an eyelid, gives you some indication of the history we have with this set of friends.  

On Bank Holiday Monday we visited an Indian Palace in the Cotswolds.  Yes, you heard right!  But more on that later.

Rewinding a little, our most recent gig at our favourite local venue, The Halls in Wolverhampton, was 90s sensation Kula Shaker.  If you didn't already know, the band takes its name from a 9th century Indian emperor.   Formed by Crispian Mills (daughter of English actress Hayley Mills, grandson of actor John Mills), the band has had a number of incarnations, one of which ended particularly acrimoniously.  This resulted in Crispian backpacking around India, a country which had a profound effect on him.  Consequently the band was renamed and the 60s/70s psychedelic rock they favoured, took on the influences of Indian instrumentation, mysticism and spirtualism.

Whilst we definitely appreciated Kula Shaker's sound at the time, the 90s was awash with great British bands and somehow, they weren't firmly on our radar.  We knew who they were, how accomplished they were, but our exposure was limited to their chart hits and the ruminations of a particularly enthusiastic friend.  However, when I spotted they were playing locally, some inner voice told me to book some tickets.

We decided to try out the hip North Street bar we'd clocked when we saw Johnny Marr a few weeks earlier and got quite comfortable in there, listening to this young DJ's excellent and eclectic choice of music.  

Gareth's opinion of the bar increased tenfold when the bar worker realised too late that she hadn't added his bag of scratchings to our bill and insisted he have them on the house.  As the saying goes, the way to a man's heart is through his stomach!

By the time we reached the venue, we were dismayed to discover that we'd almost missed the support act, The Dohl Foundation.  We were grateful to witness their closing track, but annoyed at ourselves for so badly mistiming this one!  

However, the main act blew us away.  There's a current phrase often bandied around to describe the offspring of famous people, who successfully carve out a career of their own in the public eye - "nepo babies."  Crispian Mills unfortunately fell victim to this in the 90s.  But this blonde, spritely 50-something laid waste to the tag by leaping around on stage like a 20 year old and playing like Hendrix himself!  The lighting was pretty special too.

At one point, Crispian had both his guitar and ukulele slung around his neck and alternated between the two.

For us, one of the standout tracks was their cover of Chura Liya You've stolen my heart), a song from an old Bollywood movie.  Now where did I learn that?  From Vix of course!  We bumped into Vix and Jon later in the set after the penny dropped that this must have been the gig she had eluded to in her recent blog, so I decided to message her.  Given the sheer excitement and chest thumping sound that this band produced, I didn't hold out much hope of a reply, but luckily she spotted my message and we were able to enjoy the last part of the gig and walk back through town together.  

I managed to film (with a steady hand) the Chura Liya performance in its entirety.  You can watch it here if you're interested.

Kula Shaker perform Chura Liya, Wulfrun Hall, Wolverhampton, 25th April 2024 (youtube.com)

Since the gig, I've edited over 400 photos from an amazingly individual outdoor wedding and attended a wedding fayre.  Consequently, I've felt it necessary to once again reduce my screen time to some semblance of normality.

Anyway, back to the Bank Holiday weekend.  Yesterday we visited Sezincote.  We fancied a change from the National Trust properties we're so familiar with and opted for one from the Historic Houses list instead.  Historic Houses is a cooperative, not-for-profit association comprised of over a thousand independently owned and operated houses, castles and gardens of major historical importance.  Many, like Sezincote, are privately owned, lived-in homes.  This, for us, was part of the appeal.

Sezincote is, in essence, India in the Cotswolds - a 200 year old Mughal Indian palace, set in a romantic landscape of temples, grottoes, waterfalls and canals reminiscent of the Taj Mahal. 

After a 3 minute walk from the car park down a winding, sloping lane, visitors are directed to the entrance between two Indian cars.  

The maroon coloured car's interior provided me with an immediate distraction.  Check out this interior!

The house itself, completed in 1805, was built in a combination of Hindu and Muslim architectural styles.  It was the brainchild of  Colonel John Cockerell, grandson of the diarist Samuel Pepys.  Cockerell returned to England after amassing a fortune working for the East India Company, but sadly died three years later in 1798 and so the estate passed to his younger brother Charles, who had also worked for the company.  Charles commissioned his brother Samuel, an architect, to design and build a house in the Mughal style of Rajasthan, complete with minarets, peacock tail windows, jali-work railings and pavilions, also heavily relying on the extensive knowledge and skills of artist Thomas Daniell.

Over the years the house ("...always a happy house" according to our guide) has welcomed many notable figures, including the poet, John Betjeman.  Betjeman wrote of his visit to Sezincote: "Down the drive, under the early yellow leaves of oaks...the bridge, the waterfall, the Temple pool and there they burst on us, the onion domes." 

Queen Mary, another visitor (who appears in one of the framed family photos on a side table in the master bedroom) was a little light fingered and simply took what she liked on visits to Sezincote and other properties that played host to her, such was her sense of entitlement.  It is a matter of record that a tally was kept by a member of her staff and following her death, each and every item was returned to its rightful owner.

I jokingly suggested that I might borrow an exquisite Indian chair from one of the bedrooms and claimed that I was a descendant of Queen Mary's.  I'm not sure the guide believed me.  Tut tut!

There were also two horse figurines standing proud on a half moon table, which, we were all pretty staggered to hear, dated back to the 9th century Tang dynasty.  The guide suggested that they really should be in glass cases.  Given the resident cats' propensity for jumping up onto tables and breaking things, I'm amazed they aren't locked up in the safe!

Overall, the interior was impressive, but classical in style; predominantly Regency and Greek Revival at heart, though littered with artwork and Chinese and Indian antiques picked up on travels.

By now you've probably realised that photographs are not permitted inside the property, which remains a family home and at the centre of a thriving agricultural estate.

Given that it's really the exterior that truly screams "India" I was able to capture this at leisure.  

The extensive gardens were designed with the help of Humphrey Repton and the property is credited with influencing the design of Brighton Pavilion after a visit by the Prince Regent in 1807. 

Brighton Pavilion

We spent a sultry afternoon with friends Neil and Laura, wandering around the magnificent gardens, before retiring to the Orangery for cold drinks and cakes (mine a delicious orange and almond cake with edible flowers).

I'll leave you with my highlights.  

Brahmin bulls adorned the Indian Bridge.

My sneaky view from one of the bedrooms, looking towards the Head Gardener's "cottage".  Incidentally, the gardener was poached from a modest little dwelling in London town, commonly known as Buckingham Palace.

A closer look at the cottage, also created in Indian style.

The Grotto.

Surely the most beautiful Tennis Pavilion?

Snake Pool, with its three headed serpent.  Indian Bridge in the background.

The Tent Room was locked, but I got a glimpse through the window.

Onwards and upwards we walked, along the stream and pools flanked by bog plants and all manner of rare plants...

...to the Temple to Surya.  Surya had definitely been working her magic this weekend.  It was so good to cast off the layers and coats.

Queen Mary continued to speak to me from beyond the grave, whispering in my ear that I might want to take one of these incredible shells home.  I doubt I would have been able to lift if if I'd tried!

Soon it was time to head back to the Orangery....with its impressive curvature...

....bejewelled with tulips and housing tender climbing plants - and cake!

The Cotswolds really is full of surprises!  Who would have guessed that it was also home to the only Mughal Palace in Northern Europe?

Incidentally, you can also get married here (civil ceremonies) between May and September.  There's a choice of the Orangery which has capacity for 220 people, or the dining room looking out onto the Persian garden, for smaller gatherings of up to 70 people.  So if someone's stolen your heart, you might want to consider this place.  Magical!

Talking of weddings, I can't wait to share some of the photos from my latest festival style wedding.  Until next time!