Oh the piles of stuff

by maggie

The initial ‘Oh noes! Stuff to do!’ of coping with a the death of a close family member has more or less passed. And I (there is no we) have moved into the ‘what to do with the piles of stuff’ phase. I’m not going to talk about the emotional bit because I don’t really have any kind of handle on that (watery smile).

Aaaannnny way. So much stuff. And all part of my childhood and family memories so can’t really be shredded out right and chucked in a skip. Did I ever mention that the house I grew up in had six bedrooms… space for plenty off stuff. (Looks like I actually get to use my default category as an actual category for once.)

For example in the back bedroom, where I used to sleep when I came home to look after mum, there are now over a hundred labelled items that I need to process and find homes for. And that’s just one room…

At the weekend I was looking for some papers of my grandmother’s that date back to the 1930’s. Haven’t found them yet, will be most pissed if they got chucked in the last year after all this time. Why is life never simple? And finally sorted through the shelves of A4 and A3 folders. {Found the paper theatre that Phil’s going to get when we meet up for coffee. Happy belated Birthday dear heart. I’m not sure he’d appreciate the two packets of Barbie fridge magnets, but there was also a selection of cut out fashion dolls and houses in the same place.}

So much stuff the shows what kind of person my mum was, and by extension my brother and me. My Dad is all over the house too; his art is hanging on all the walls so it’s a kind of background noise. Mums stuff is a jack-in-box that has to be opened at least once.

Wow! This post has become angst ridden.

So to the part that I was intending to write about this week – the bricklaying career.

starting in the middle of the story.

Mum taught bricklaying at Richmond Adult College from 1989-93 and 2001-04. She recorded her students work by taking candid photos of them with their walls. There was a whole file of photos. Was because I’ve taken it apart now. I did n’t know these people and I can’t keep all the stuff. But these people were important to mum and she, and the skill she taught were important to them; there are letters.

Here’s one of the photos from the folder. The arch between piers is one of the projects she regularly taught. She encouraged the students to stand on their finished arches to demonstrate The competence of their work. Most of the photos show faces of amazed disbelief at their achievement. But I’m not happy dumping strangers images on the internets so you get a toned down snap as an example of the genre.

Some how I wanted to keep a record of these people, mainly everyday blokes, but not all, and their often dazed expressions.

There was also a ring binder of course notes

Because when I was studying my A-levels mum was off doing a City and Guilds course in Bricklaying.

Chicken/Egg me starting an Engineering Degree, her getting into construction? And then when I came home from uni, she went off to study stone masonry for three years. I got rid of my engineering notes years ago, and most of the text books.

This story starts back in the mid sixties when mum (not my mum back then) studied Sculpture at Kingston School of Art. She did meet Dad there. Carving was her favourite, and green (newly quaried) Bath or Portland stone is easy to work.

I digress. What to do with the memories?

Working through the folder. Deciding what to use. Dealing with the flash backs.

in my other life of printing and crochet and sunflowers , im thinking about next terms classes.

and a new project, because its not like I’ve finished all the other projects I have on the go…

Not a new project but printing something that could be turned into a little book like this one from a bookbinding blog I really like. You can join the four leaf pamphlets together. So I did

Here are some on the job notes from 2am! Not funny.

I made a mock up from A3 news print, 10 sheets, that’s eighty pages. (I’m thinking of adding another category: down the rabbit hole. It certainly happens. Are the blue pills not working?)

And then thought I can use this. Sticking enough old photocopies and cut up photographs on to the flimsy paper will increase it’s robustness. And it will be some where to keep the memories. Add it to the silent library…

So yesterday, while listen to various talking heads witter on about the charred remains of Norte Dame de Paris I was back a the cutting and sticking. I was thinking about my mum’s friends. Those she made over a banker, and a shared hatred of IT, in Weymouth. A lot of them have worked in Cathedrals, on regular maintenance of the Fabric, at various stages of their careers. Maybe mum would have gone done that too if she hadn’t had to come back and take care of family.

Aannnyway…

I’ll post some spreads of the little book of Bricklaying Memories when it’s done.

Well that was tl:dr. And I’ve still got drivel to chatter on about. But I think I’m going to go lie down for a bit

MER

edit

Because I couldn’t work out how to stick an image in the comments

No squabbling now!