A Usefulness of Tea Towels

 

“I love words, they travel through history and countries; their evolution allows you to trace the story of humanity……….. I love wordplays because they denote how brilliant the human brain can be, when it disregards the ordinary meaning of words and plunges deeper under the surface…”. These are words written by my cousin, Andrew, all the way from Italy, in one of his Blogs about Life Under Coronavirus.

His love of words must be a family trait (along with his love of tea towels) because I, too, love words (and tea towels).  Several years ago, I was given a tea towel with the Venery Nouns for animals and birds, by Perkins and Morley.  I loved it, love the idea of Collective Nouns of all sorts.  But what I have come to realise is that there is NO Collective Noun for tea towels.  In the animal world, some animals are linked to several different Collective Nouns, depending on what they are doing: ducks can be A Flock (if in flight), A Brace or A Badling (when on the ground) or A Raft, A Team or A Paddling (when on water).  I felt that tea towels must have a Collective Noun and, after consultation with Twitter, came up with 5 Collective Nouns, depending……Two days ago, I wrote about A Hanging of Tea Towels, today it is A Usefulness of Tea Towels.

While A Hanging of Tea Towels applies to one particular way in which tea towels are stored or kept, the term Usefulness applies, in a generic way, demonstrating how useful they are and how many different ways in which they can be used.  Obviously, the main purpose of a tea towel is wiping up, either by hand or to let things stand on

People from Twitter came up with a number of examples of what to do with a tea towel.

“At my parent’s house, Grandma used a coffee table for my young daughters’ meals and they were allowed to choose a ‘special tablecloth’.  Took the years to realise they were tea towels” @MimGroves

“When I am on demos, I pop one over the mixer to save the crowd from getting covered in icing sugar.  My mixer is great.  It has a guard but I find the kitchen aids tend to throw everything out of the bowl.  But they cannot get away from my edible glitter when I start spraying that” @thebakingnanna1

“When I was expecting, towards the end of my pregnancy, my ankles swelled a lot (and we were in the summer months) so I used wet tea towels and wrapped them around my ankles for relief” @JanesHeroes

Maybe not round the ankles but equally services elbow and knees!

“They are great for wrapping breakables when moving house” @Sarahs_vintage_furniture

“Dress up and be silly or cover Xmas Pudding mix” @lizmac307

“Cover dough while it proves” @elagnab

“Put fruit on it to dry before freezing” @HolyMackerelUK

“Lapcloth for picnics” @dmlofas

“I used to put them over my head and pretend to be a shepherd once a year” @MrBadgerMrFox1

“Frame them” @Love_Austria007

“Proving” @robertgilbert86

Love @robertgilbert86’s Black Sabbath tea towel, wish I had one!!

“Cover cakes and bakes when cooling” zakiragheewala  (Instagram)

And there are loads more useful things that a tea towel can be used for, including as a cat bed

There is no question that A Usefulness of Tea Towels is very appropriate and should be part of our vocabulary from now on!

A Hanging of Tea Towels

 

I have been writing Tea Towel Blogs since 28 April 2015, on a regular basis.  This morning, my cousin Amanda, WhatsApp’d me, saying that she hadn’t seen a Blog from me for a while.  Looking at my records, I last wrote a ‘conventional’ Tea Towel Blog on 14 March; that is, 12 days ago.  I haven’t had a gap like that since I started.

It’s not only that.  I started on my project of Collective Nouns for TeaTowels, identifying  five Collective Nouns, depending where they were or what they were doing.  I intended to write a Blog about each of the ‘new’ Collective Nouns.  I haven’t done that.

I have acquired 102 new, unused tea towels in the last week; I should have photographed them by now but I haven’t.  I should also have started to Blog about those 101, by now and I haven’t.

I was rapidly approaching the completion of 900 Tea Towel Blogs, in total, by 18 April 2020 but I am 13 short and the way I am going I won’t meet that target.  You would have thought that by being in ‘Lockdown’, because of the Coronavirus, I would have had plenty of time to blog to my heart’s content.

Things have changed, changed beyond anyone’s imagination.  First of all, my cousin Andrew lives in Italy, at the heart of the Coronavirus Lockdown.  He started to write a ‘diary’ of life in Italy so I have posted those stories; he has also related these stories to some of his tea towels.

I have been working with some children who have started Home Schooling, setting some tasks about 7 Day Diaries of Life Under Lockdown which will be published in the Virtual Tea Towel Museum, in a section called ‘We’re in this together’.  I lost my grandfather in the Spanish Flu pandemic in 1919, who my father never knew; it seems to me that today we have the technology to  record the experiences of people in this difficult time and  doing that with the humble tea towel seems to me to be a good way to start.  It has taken sometime to organise this.  I have invited a number of people to add to ‘We’re all in this together’; I hope people will take part.  I can ‘provide’ the tea towel link.

But there are other things that have got in the way: having gone into self isolation, there have been the logistics of getting food, posting letters, keeping in contact with friends and family.  Yesterday, I joined a queue to buy some things online, from Boots the Chemist.  I was Number 259,798 in the queue; I was told I would be in the queue for over an hour.  I hung on and eventually was able to buy some things five and a half hours later, at 1.30am.  What sort of crazy world is this?  It’s the sort of world where people who don’t need to buy online are doing so, and are going for a long walk in the countryside, against all the guidelines.

Yesterday, I had to post something from my eBay account: I had forgotten to close it down and it was ‘sod’s law’ that someone wanted to buy something.  I thought of a way to achieve this: pre-paid postage, park outside the Post Office, ring them and ask them to pick the parcel from the back seat.  I explained the situation, I was not infected, just in a vulnerable place if I did contract the virus so had been fully self-isolating.  The woman was stunning “I’m not going near you” she said, and hung up.  Thanks a lot.  I think of all the amazing staff, not only NHS staff, but those in shops and distribution centres but clearly, not in the Post Office.  It makes me very scared about asking anyone for help in the future, hence sitting in a queue of 250,000 people.

So, today, I have got myself back in the swing of writing my own Blogs, and I have started with A Hanging of Tea Towels.  Tea towels hang in many different ways.  There is my extreme system of hanging all my tea towels on trouser hangers in a built-in wardrobe; it is the most efficient way of storing them and keeping them in good condition.  But, often in Garden Centres and Department Stores, you see the ‘laundry hanger’ for displaying tea towels or racks that hold tea towels by an integrated hook.  There is nothing like a clothes line of tea towels, blowing in the wind, as they dry (or in my case, while they are posing for a photograph).

SO I feel a lot better about having picked up my keyword, and started to write my own Blog.

 

The Tale of Coronavirus (Italy): 18 March 2020

18 March 2020 is my Aunt Catherine’s birthday; not a good day to celebrate your birthday, no big party, no drink at the pub.  It would have been my mother’s 96th birthday and maybe I would have blogged something about her.  Instead, my family contact is with Andrew, my cousin in Italy who has been forthcoming in telling us in UK, warning us what is likely to happen.  For that I am very grateful.  Here is his latest story, the fifth instalment, and he would want me to remind you that English is his second language and I do believe it is getting better:

“I love this dog, the unemotional muzzle, desolation, as if it wasn’t expecting anything else from life.  The dog, however, on ‘Lockdown Day 8’ could be simply tired.  The ticket says ‘One trip/walk 10€, three trips/walks 20€’; I cannot stop laughing.  There are a lot of jokes, at this time, regarding dogs.  Since one of the reasons you are allowed to leave home is to take your dog out for a (short) walk, the poor animals are continuously forced to go out, once for each member of the family.  Here the unfortunate animal is rented out to those who own no dogs.

Scotties, Westies and a joyful Corgi are the subjects of these charming tea towels.  Although I admit I definitely prefer cats, they somehow sparked my interest.  In the first, I appreciated the visual pattern, the rhythm created by the playful Westies and the two black Scotties; and, not least, I was found  of the splendid red background.   In the tea towel with the four silhouettes of Scotties, set on a snow-white background, the impression is of energy, four staunch hounds, glory of the Scottish Homeland.  Scotland, in fact, is the word proudly repeated as a decoration on both sides.  Probably the Corgi is my favourite one; it was a present sent by my mildly-compulsive-tea-towel-gatherer cousin (me).  It was the artistic style that hooked my attention, brushstrokes that resemble the art of pointillism where you have to stand at a distance to see the image properly.  (It was at this point I had to stop writing and look up ‘pointillism’ on Google; this is an art form that uses dots of pure colour which together compose the picture.  Seurat was an exponent of this art form.  Don’t anyone tell me you cant learn something from a Tea Towel Blog).

It’s 9.30 am, I have just returned from shopping at the food supermarket; this time only about 15-20 minutes queue.  Since I have nothing to do while I’m queueing, I take notice of the attitude of people: anxiety, fear, sometimes terror, I dare say.  We’re waiting in line on the pavement, we know we should stay not less than a metre distance from each other, but we tend to stand two or three steps away, that is at least a couple of metres.  Average.  I had witnessed, on the previous time I went shopping, some people staying at least six or seven steps from the person in front, constantly verifying if behind them there was a suitable distance from other people.  Today, one more step ahead in this process of anxiety, people not standing on the pavement but directly on the street, evidently fearing individuals who are simply walking.

It’s now half past eight, in the evening, watching the news.  A chap was fined in Southern Italy because he was having a walk, not with a dog but with …….a chicken on a lead.  The news showed the photo so I assume it must be true.  A last minute joke goes: in Italy there have been more people reported for violation of the restriction laws than infected individuals.  It means there are more idiots than virus-ill persons” 

Glad the last sentence is light-hearted.  It’s all a bit much and we are only three weeks behind Italy.

To return to the Virtual Tea Towel Museum click here…. https://virtualteatowelmuseum.com/portfolio/were-all-in-it-together-coronavirus-2020/

 

The Tale of Coronavirus (Italy): 16 March 2020

This is my cousin, Andrew’s, fourth Blog about the Coronavirus ‘shut down’ in Italy.  I love his tales; it makes me feel that we are still part of Europe, working together, experiencing things together, supporting each other.  Maybe, we will have all learnt from this, be better, kinder people, learn not to be greedy.  After all, who needs fifteen, multi-packs of toilet rolls, but we all need some; who thinks they have the right to have exclusive ownership of toilet rolls?

Yesterday, I had a WhatsApp from Andrew “Great day, today I found sanitiser gel on the shelves, couldn’t believe it.  I just bought one bottle, not 96”

Here is Andrew’s fourth Blog:

“On the 6th Day of Quarantine, Corona sent to me…… a pick-me-up, a boost.  Yesterday, I wrote no ‘Virus Blog’, I didn’t feel like it, too much effort.  Writing in English is a pain in the neck, lots of work for meagre results; in Italy we say that “the mountain gives birth to a little mouse” (and what does that mean? I think something got lost in translation but I love it, all the same).  “During quarantine, you hang around home, with no awareness of the days that pass, and besides the 12 o’clock bells, nothing seems to mark the time that flows.

This morning, on the contrary, a moment of Movida (I believe a translation is movement, or happening, rather than nightlife)….. I had a good reason to go out, send a certified letter!  Glorious and sunny day, fresh air, trees rustling, chirps of the birds, nice walk, a moment of leisure.

The #IOSTOACASA (I STAY HOME) hashtag is the most popular in Italy in these days; it’s an official campaign to convince people, using moral suasion.  Sport personalities, singers, actors are encouraging us to stay at home.  Virus spreads with people, if people stay at home, the virus doesn’t spread.  

Having to stay at home, you suddenly confront yourself with what you normally leave apart, when you rush out for your everyday life.  You finally notice that books, essays, magazines are gazing at you, asking for some consideration after they have been cast away for ages on a shelf to get dusty; there are coats, jackets, sweaters, cardigans, heaped on one another, who knows why, begging to be neatly stored; and what should we say about the messy kitchen drawers with utensils just shovelled in?  The pan sets, piled in disorder? AND the DVDs that are misplaced? AND the toolbox in utter disorder?  AND…AND…AND… At the end, you’ll see there are so many things to do at home, that 24 hours in a day is not enough.  If it weren’t for the quarantine, I wouldn’t have started to write these Blogs, not that anyone would have noticed.   For a long time I have wanted to do something with my Tea Towel (wee) Collection.  I planned to show it to my friends, at a Farewell Musical Concert for UK leaving Europe, held in my house.  The planned date of 8 March 2020 fell not exactly at the most appropriate moment of history: the Coronavirus suggested that we didn’t gather people in our drawing room.  Details about the Farewell Concert in the next Blog.

I was quite fond of my visit to Liverpool; I knew nothing about the town, and I am absolutely no fan of the Beatles.  I thus arrived there unbiased.  I learnt in a few hours what a history it had, being a port facing the ocean, so near to the wool industries of Manchester, and having received the Irish fleeing from the Potato Famine; and lastly, the catastrophic bombing of the Second World War.  The town bears permanent traces of these events.  It was a delightful 24 hour stay, Lime Street Station gave me a superb impression, as did the imposing buildings just outside; finally, the Walker Art Gallery, part of the National Museums of Liverpool nearby, my goal for the afternoon of my arrival.  It is a fine Art Gallery, a gem, lots of beautiful paintings, a good selection of pre-Raphaelites that builds up its fame.  I quite enjoyed discovering a well-known painting that I didn’t know was held here: ‘Dante meets Beatrice’ by Henry Holliday, with its very faithful setting in Florence, brought me back to my own city that I had left the same morning.  And then I noticed a caption, describing a smallish painting hanging quite high on the wall, ‘Monarch of the Glen’ by Charles Towne (1797).  I concentrated my gaze up on the wall, only to discover it was just a trivial scene of cows and goats, with an insolent bull acting as a boss.  I grinned, so far distant it was, from the majestic stag of Sir Edwin Landseer.

The tea towel doesn’t hook your attention: it isn’t colourful, a pale grey profile-panorama, no 3D effects, but it successfully summarises the main features of the town, a line of buildings, the River Mersey below and, on one side, the only coloured blot, of the ‘Lambanana’.  Above the right hand side, the impressive Liverpool Cathedral.  I couldn’t believe it to be so big and full of so accurate decorative and architectural details.  Centre of the tea towel, the (Roman Catholic) Metropolitan Cathedral; I entered the church asking myself how could it be allowed in a Protestant country, to build such a vast church on a hill near the Anglican Cathedral.  I have learnt all about Potato Famine in Ireland and the massive immigration, that evidently justified the building.  Now I know why my cousin’s wife, Helen, is a Catholic, she’s a Scouser!  On the left side, the ‘Three Graces Buildings’ accounts for the imperial story of a great trading country, the UK.  Finally, the Maritime, Slavery and Liverpool Museums completed my picture of the town.  I also had time to go zigzagging through the centre, passing by The Cavern Club, the adjacent newly rebuilt quarter, transformed into a huge shopping centre, the China Town.

In 2008, Liverpool became the European Capital of Culture; for the occasion the town developed it’s logo, the surrealistic colourful ‘Lambanana’, lamb (i.e. wool) plus banana, two commodities that made the fortune of Liverpool, hundreds of years ago.

I cannot forget mentioning the sunset on the River Mersey, and its tide, that allowed me to enjoy a last walk along the quays before heading towards the train station.  

I bought the souvenirs in the Liverpool Museum, the apron displays the traditional two ‘Liver Birds’, that protect the city.  But only too sorry to realise that the Gift Shop of the Anglican Cathedral was much cheaper.

Thank you yet again Andrew.  Great story but you also bought some amazing tea towels.

To return to the Virtual Tea Towel Museum click here…. https://virtualteatowelmuseum.com/portfolio/were-all-in-it-together-coronavirus-2020/

 

The Tale of Coronavirus (Italy): 14 March 2020

This is the third Blog that my cousin, Andrew, who lives in Italy, has written about the ‘Italian Experience’.  Andrew was born in Italy, of an English mother and Italian father.  It was the rule in their household, as young children, to only speak English at home and Italian in the community.  Her commitment was that her three sons would be bilingual, which they are.  As the years have gone by, Andrew has married a French woman; so his children are now conversant in three languages but Andrew has less practice in English on a regular basis.  His Blog is giving him practice.  Andrew has always kept in touch with his mother’s side of the family, visiting England on many occasions.  Brexit, for him, was very painful, as it was for me.  Then came Coronavirus, Italy being more advanced than Britain, his experiences have been very helpful to me.  With such an evil disease, it is very difficult being apart from family.  Andrew’s words seem to reinforce the ‘sense of family’.  For him, however, his father lives in Rome while he lives in Florence; his son is studying in The Hague.  As UK becomes under greater restrictions, Andrew’s words are helpful; he has managed a bit of humour.  Even better, Andrew is very fond of a tea towel or two.  Here is the third part of his story:

“I left that blur, on the right hand corner of the photo, on purpose; it is the ray of sun coming in from my bedroom window.  The background revealing that the tea towels are laid on my bed.

Fourth day of quarantine.  It is 12 o’clock.  I can hear clapping from the apartments.  It is a ‘flash mob’ to express the country’s appreciation for the work the Civil Protection is doing to save the country.  We’re confined to home; in this case, we feel grateful that the internet has been developed and implemented.  We can manage to keep in touch.  Furthermore, since my family loves reading, seclusion could be worse.  This ray of sun seems to encourage us – it’s all going to be fine, resist!

In this weird moment of general infection, the central tea towel assumes a special meaning, but I didn’t have any rational intention of laying the tea towels in that order.  This ‘special meaning’ matter was only a second thought.  I imagine Sigmund Freud would have something to say about that.  I bought it in the Imperial War Museum in Manchester, after an unappealing visit, a pleasant cup of tea in the cafeteria, a chat with a waitress about Florence and an inevitable call to the Gift Shop.  Museums in Manchester are basically ok but they seem to lack something that sparks your interest; you have to ask, are they worth travelling to from so far away?

Nevertheless, I have a feeling that Manchester has a hidden soul, that must be discovered, and appreciated, in detail.   Going by tram to the Imperial War Museum, I saw Castlefield from above, since the rails are elevated.  It’s an  interesting glance on a network of canals and former industrial buildings, now converted, alas, into restaurants, clubs etc.  I passed by the ancient Roman relics, and by the oldest former railway station in the world, Air and Space Hall.  I promise I’ll go back there in 2024 when the proposed refurbishment of the Town Hall will be completed.

I don’t know where the subject of the tea towel comes from, I suppose it had something to do with the moral of the troops from the First World War where ‘tea’ meant ‘home’, dear old Blighty, a hope to overcome the darkest moments of history.  An appropriate signal for Europe and the UK in 2020.

That brings me to the two other tea towels that my cousin Barbara (@myteatowels) gave me as a present: the witty one with colourful wordplays (probably my favourite is the ‘Emp-tea’, but I fancy them all) and the one on the left, probably somewhat posh and aristocratic, but I love how essential and poignant it appears, with its teapot disregarding the cup with the teabag, lovely as the cup of tea must be.

PS: Final thought.  Will the UK be able to fight the virus on her own, now she has quit Europe?

Thanks once again to Andrew who has kept a positive attitude; we are catching up with Italy, only three weeks behind, we are told today.  This is getting scary but we are learning from Europe.  Watch out for Andrew’s next missive tomorrow.

To return to the Virtual Tea Towel Museum click here…… https://virtualteatowelmuseum.com/portfolio/were-all-in-it-together-coronavirus-2020/

The Tale of the Coronavirus (Italy): 13 March 2020

This is the second Tea Towel Blog from my cousin Andrew, in Italy, under ‘shut down’.  His promised Blogs spuriously centre around tea towels!

My first point would be to alert @GardinerStuart to the fact that Andrew has three of his tea towels, hanging in his kitchen, in faraway Italy: the ones about Tea, Coffee and Chocolate.  They are providing joy to someone who is healthy but under ‘shut down’.  Secondly, if it wasn’t for Coronavirus, I would be finding a tea towel, linked with some kind of sport, to blog about the fact that today would have been my father’s 100th birthday (although he missed it by 36 years).

Back to cousin Andrew, this is his story:

“10 to 7am, back to good old habits, a good time to get up from bed.  How shall I plan my day, on this third day of quarantine, second of total ‘shut down’ of shops?  As often happens in Italy, when referring to laws, you must exercise your mental subtlety, hoping you are interpreting it correctly: in other words, it could be a matter of quibbles. 

The Minister of the Interior summarised what you may, or may not, do with regard to moving about, in 12 points.  Number 1 states ‘you shouldn’t leave your house unless you have strong reasons’: basically work, food and health.  Ah, yes, you are allowed to take your dog outside, provided you stay near home and for the shortest time possible.

Talking about quibbles, yesterday, in Rome, a couple were fined because they went for a ride on their horses in town.  They tried to convince the officers that their horses need to be taken out, as with dogs.

Since I have no dogs, no need for food, the schools are closed and finally, I am a reasonably healthy man, it seems reasonable that I shall pass the whole day closed within my four walls.  There are some nuances: Point Number 1 doesn’t say ‘it is forbidden to go out of your house’; this is only the case if you have the virus.

In fact, further on, Point Number 10 states ‘Sport and motor/physical activities in the open spaces are allowed, as long as there is a distance of a metre between people.  Under no circumstances are gatherings of people allowed’.  That means you aren’t allowed to stroll around the centre, visiting monuments from the outside (they are obviously closed) taking photos, but you may have a walk, by yourself, or with a partner at more than a metre distance.  You are not allowed to visit anyone else’s house.  I go around by bicycle, although I never feel 100% self-confident, if a police officer stops me and asks what I am doing.

I bought a good amount of tea towels in Manchester in January 2020, these three in the Art Gallery, a fine museum with lots of interesting things to see.  I visited the Museum in the late afternoon.  I had only an hour but it was enough.  It isn’t big but the paintings, vases, wall tiles and the finely carved wood-panelling made the visit a pleasant end to the day.

The gift shop is fairly big, full of interesting items: mugs, books, booklets, stationery, scarves, postcards and posters.  I eagerly passed my eyes over all these nice-looking things, searching for tea towels.  These three are noteworthy because they give lots of information about the popular drinks they display.  You read how useful, or dangerous, coffee tea or chocolate may be (chocolate is poisonous to dogs), you get tips about how to make a good drink, you learn (almost) all you need if you long for an Italian caffe.  They are colourful, decorative, full of details but at the same time, they aren’t messy.

Maybe, someone will turn their noses up, reading about tea being prepared with tea bags (he’s referring to me!!).  We do love Purists, don’t we?”.

Thank you, Andrew for another insight into ‘shut-down’.  Hope you are keeping well!!  Looking forward to tomorrow’s tale.

To return to the Virtual Tea Towel Museum click here….. https://virtualteatowelmuseum.com/portfolio/were-all-in-it-together-coronavirus-2020/

 

The Tale of the Coronavirus (Italy): 12 March 2020

If you read yesterday’s Tea Towel Blog about Madeira (The Tale of the Coronavirus), you will know that my cousin, Andrew, lives in Florence.  If I understand things correctly, in the UK we are about four weeks behind Italy.  Italy went on ‘shut down’ last week.  While he lives with his wife and son in Florence, his mother-in-law lives nearby, his 91 year old father lives in Rome and his second son is studying in The Hague.  This is not just about having to stay in your own house; it’s about worrying about your whole family.  Andrew is a teacher; the schools are closed.  Elena is an opera singer; the theatres are closed.

Andrew, a man very fond of Tea Towels, decided he would write a Blog about his experience of the Coronavirus, loosely linked to tea towels; I promised to publish it.  This is his first Blog; he would want me to say that English is not his first language and so apologises for any grammatical errors, although I think his English is great.

“Yes, I have a messy look; yes, I’m still in pyjamas; and yes, it’s past 9am and I have only just got up.  The first time, in I don’t remember how much time, that I have got up so late.  This is Day Two in an Italy that has become a ‘restricted area’, due to the Coronavirus spread.

As we know, the disease originated in China, arrived by plane with a German woman who travelled from Shanghai around 20 January 2020, then (who knows how) an Italian guy (Case Number 1), 38 years old and still in hospital, started it all in Codogno, Northern Italy.  From there the spread exploded.  Travel, tourism and business  did the rest.  There is silence, or would it be better to write stillness, in today’s Italy.

Today, I woke up at 9am.  I never get up so late; it sounds immoral.  It’s a thing not to do, I was taught as a child.  Like not watching TV in the morning, or when eating a meal never eat the meat and vegetables separately.  With your fork you had to collect a piece of meat and the vegetables together, not eating one after the other (was this my aunt, my very English aunt, teaching him that?  Seems a bit weird!).  Early to bed, early to rise, we all know that.  But something, in the back of my head, suggested to me that in a country where schools and shops are shut down, where you are not allowed to go out of the house unless for specific, and important, reasons (you may risk a fine or 3 months in prison), there was no use in rising at dawn.

Italy is now like a still life, those paintings depicting objects, fruit, flowers, where nothing seems to move (provided you choose not to notice flies or decaying leaves, all referring to death).  Silence is the main feature of these first moments in a ‘Red Zone’ country.  Practically nobody is around this morning, only queues in front of the most popular food superstores, since only a few people at a time are allowed to enter the shops.

Worst of all, people tend to be scared, and sometimes aggressive, if they think you are getting nearer than a metre distance (this is the official safety distance between people).  Tuscany has a population of 3,700,000 inhabitants and yet there are only (at least today) 320 infected people; I suspect people are ‘dying’ more of panic than of (possibly/eventually) Coronavirus.  During the Second World War, UK survived the Battle of Britain, and the orchestras of Leningrad continued playing during the ferocious siege of the Nazis.  That will be my attitude in these moments: resist, resist, resist.

In the meantime, I lost the sense of date and time, like in a prison, in a hospital, where there is nothing to do.  I have to check the date on the computer to see that today is Thursday.  I will write these Blogs, following the Italian quarantine, telling a story connected to my small collection of tea towels.

The tea towel and apron, above, were bought in Manchester in January 2020, in the Science Museum.  I went to Manchester to meet with Michael and his family (another cousin) before Brexit was going to impose passport and visa requirements to enter the UK.  I’m not sure I liked the town; she seemed maybe a bit dull (certainly I was quite annoyed to discover the well-known Town Hall was closed for major refurbishment until 2024!).  I was more impressed by Liverpool; I found her witty.

I found the tea towel and apron funny, mainly the apron with the skeleton; it made me think of my (often excruciating) pains allegedly originating from the spine (at least this is what doctors have been saying since 2011).  I knew I had to buy the apron.  The subject of the tea towel and apron is evidently drawn from an old anatomy atlas, and they are probably slightly weird.  I felt the apron would express my constant thought about what-the-hell-is-happening-to-my-back.  The one with the brain possibly reminded me about the collection of brains displayed in ‘Frankenstein Junior’.

This is the first of a series of blogs about the Coronavirus in Italy, watch out for another one tomorrow.  Thank you Andrew!

To return to the Virtual Tea Towel Museum click here…. https://virtualteatowelmuseum.com/portfolio/were-all-in-it-together-coronavirus-2020/

 

Madeira (The Tale of Coronavirus): Acquired 2019, vintage

Today’s tea towel belonged to Con.  Con now lives in a residential home, so has no need for it any more.  None of her family know the story behind this tea towel.  I have written several Tea Towel Blogs about Madeira, because I have a number of tea towels and I have been there several times.

However, this one is different.  We are in the midst of the Coronavirus, one of the biggest health challenges for many years, decreed a pandemic by World Health Organisation.  While the level of scare-mongering and panic-buying varies across UK, there are people demanding that schools and universities be closed, all sports occasions be abandoned.  It is important to remember what Chris Whitty (Chief Medical Adviser to the UK Government) and Sir Patrick Vallance (Chief Scientific Adviser to the Government) said on Thursday: that there is a pattern to the spread of the virus, that in UK we are four weeks behind Italy so should be able to learn from there, that the peak of the virus isn’t likely to be for several more weeks.  It’s obvious that if you close everything down now, they are really worried that by the peak of the spread everyone who has self-isolated will be bored and go out and about re-spreading it.

My cousin, Andrew, lives in Italy; he was born there and has lived all his life there.  He is fluent in both Italian and English and we are in contact via WhatsApp.  In the early days of the virus we exchanged news about things like panic-buying of toilet rolls.  On 9 March, at 21.27, I received a message from Andrew “From tomorrow morning the whole of Italy is considered a restricted area, Red Zone”.  He went on to say “Many people in several towns such as Rome rushed out at midnight to queue up and search for toilet paper…….I’m blocked in Florence, and apparently not allowed to reach my father” (who lives in Rome).

Andrew then set up a WhatsApp Group for Amanda and I (his cousins in England) to keep us up to date, which I think is really thoughtful and kind.  He also decided to write a daily Blog while he is confined to the house.  I have asked if I can use it on this Blog because it is linked to Tea Towels; there is clearly a ‘Tea Towel Gene’ in our family.  My suggestion is that if anyone, anywhere, is in self-isolation and is bored with Day Time TV, they can share their experiences on this Blog, as long as it is linked to one or more tea towels.

So, why have I started with Madeira?  Because, at the time of writing, they believe there are only 9 places in the world that are free from the Coronavirus: Isle of Man, Bermuda, Corfu, Santorini and Mykonos, Azores, Cape Verde, Barbados and Madeira.  So I start with a Coronavirus-free place and tomorrow we will have the first Coronavirus-related Blog, from someone living in isolation.

Cats: Mixed dates

Gwyn, Pete, Liz and I have a longstanding friendship, starting in 1979.  Gwyn and I started working at the same hospital for people with learning difficulties, in 1979, for a number of years.  While our paths parted ways in terms of work, we maintained our friendship.  We spent New Year’s Eves together, somewhat inebriated (at a time when we both drank alcohol), we spent long weekends in nice hotels around the country, we celebrated our birthdays together, we went to Paris and had a lot of days out.  As time passed, Gwyn became ill and I developed epilepsy; the sort of things we did together changed, but we kept doing things.  We’ve been for walks in the countryside, using Trampers and wheelchairs; we have a pre-Christmas buffet with a few extra friends, celebrate Bonfire Night and go on Narrowboat Trips and there are many photographs to record these events.  We even did a ‘tea towel and tote bag decorating’ session.

We now meet up on a regular basis, having a meal at our house; Liz and I provide the food, Gwyn and Pete provide the drink (sadly, not alcohol these days) and we play games.  For a long time it was just Mah Jongg, something we all four have learnt to play together.  There is something about the Mah Jongg tiles that is so sensuous.  More recently, we have introduced a GamesFest, a variety of Board Games and Quizzes.  This has been necessary so that we can play some games at the table, before retiring to comfy chairs.  We each have our favourites: Gwyn likes ‘Bomb’, Liz likes ‘Bananagrams’, Pete likes ‘Table Croquet’ and I like ‘Scattergories’ but we also include various other word games, a bit of ‘Jenga’ and ‘Pictionary’.  Another of my favourites is ‘CatAttack’: great game, bit like the competitiveness of Monopoly, but with cats.  Sadly, no one else will play; Liz, Gwyn and Pete don’t like that level of antagonism.   Me? I love it.  I’m not necessarily good at it but I like that bit of ‘edge’.  Maybe I just like cats but so do Gwyn, Pete and Liz.

A couple of weeks ago, Gwyn and Pete brought a couple of new ‘cat’ games with them.  One was a birthday present that Pete got and the other was one of Gwyn’s Christmas presents.  Both in small boxes, unpretentious looking.  I never thought I could, or would, laugh so much at a cat game.  ‘Meow Balancing Game’ requires the skills of ‘Jenga’ but with a bit more creativity: the idea is to balance various size ‘balls of wool’ on a unbalanced cat.  There are only 15 balls and with four of us taking turns meant the game shouldn’t last long.  Don’t you believe it.  I think that I have a steady hand but, as with Jenga, suddenly you start shaking.  It is brilliant for four people to play.  It is a joint success if all fifteen balls are balanced because we have all had our part to play.  Advertised as being suitable for players aged 3 to 103, we haven’t quite reached the top end of the scale yet.  And, as you can see, Isabella is fascinated by this process!

The second game looked creepy.  The word CAT is filled in with what really looks like  skinned cat fur; the box does assure the players that no cats were hurt in the making of the game.  Who thinks up a game like this?  Now this game is more like ‘Pictionary’.  There are 18 very peculiar pictures of cats.  You have to draw a clue you are given, from a choice a three,  for others to guess, but you have to use one of the cats as the centre piece.  There is a piece of ‘wipe-clean’ transparent plastic so you can put the picture under the plastic and draw on top of it.  Clever.  Somehow, it doesn’t matter what the clue is you are trying to draw, you get distracted by the cat.  And as the advertising says ‘No batteries required’.

The tea towels that inspired this Blog are (1) a black and white one of various cats, produced for the Feline Advisory Bureau (who knew there was such a place?) that originally belonged to Pete’s mum and that I was given in 2019 and (2) My Favourite Cats, given to me by Susan, who was my reflexologist.  Her mother was clearing out some cupboards and found 19 tea towels, unused, that she no longer wanted, in 2018.  I love the tea towels but I bet both Pete and Susan’s mothers would have loved these games!

 

All Saints’ Elston: 2014, acquired 2020

Back in the day, Singer Sewing machines, at least I think it was Singer, maybe another manufacturer, made sewing machines for children.  These were miniature, fully operational sewing machines with a manual handle.  I had one.  They were heavy, metal not plastic.  I have no idea what I was supposed to do with it.  They were too small to make ‘grown up’ clothes but, looking back, I assume that I could have made clothing for my dolls (if I had the talent, and the dolls).  I have no idea why my grandmother would have given it to me.  One day, aged five, I dropped it on my foot, by accident but I was always very clumsy; it landed on the Big Toe of my left foot.  The toe nail was badly bruised and eventually fell off.  After a while, it grew again and was fine.  But as I got older the nail became more difficult to cut, grew thicker and never looked ‘right’.

Move on 21 years, I was an Instructor in an Adult Training Centre, when there were workshops for people with learning difficulties, and working in the Concrete Workshop.  I was standing-in for someone who was on sick leave.  I had always wanted to be placed in the Concrete Workshop but the permanent place was always for a man.  At that time they assumed that ‘man’ meant ‘strong’.  I can see why you needed a physically strong Instructor because we were making 3ft square paving slabs and it was a little difficult to move them around.  I had found an easy way to move them: stand them on end, then balance on your foot and move.  I should have learnt from the sewing machine incident; I misplaced the slab, caught it on the base of my right Big Toe nail and wrenched it off.  There was some silent swearing, because as Instructors we were not allowed to swear, much blood, a few brave, silent tears and a trip to the GP who showed little sympathy and said “No damage.  Your nail will grow back” and stuck a gauze bandage round it.  He was right, the nail did grow back but was never the same.  It always came back with what seemed like blood behind it or it may have just been bruising.  With two damaged toe nails, I never wore shoes/sandals that exposed my toes.

Now I had two Big Toe nails that looked odd, grew thick and were extremely difficult to cut.  For me, there were three problems about cutting my nails: I wear two pairs of glasses, one for reading, one for long distance but neither gave a clear view of my nail.  It was hit and miss cutting them.  Secondly, because of my back condition, bending over sent me into a spasm and, thirdly, they were very thick and I am a bit lethal with a nail clipper.  Fortunately, I married a nurse.  He loved cutting nails, and was good at it, so for 16 years I had my own personal nail clipper.  When John died in 1996, I was ‘stuffed’ and, for the first time, I went to a chiropodist.  I wasn’t sure if it was appropriate to go to a chiropodist to have your nails cut; actually, I didn’t really know what a chiropodist did.  But it was OK.  For 22 years, I went to the same one.  Nice man, very careful, dug out a ‘raspberry’ from under my nail on one occasion and generally kept me on my feet.

When I moved house in 2018, I decided not to move chiropodist.  I would travel the 30 odd mile journey rather than risk someone else.  One day, in December 2019, I thought “What the heck am I doing?  There can’t only be one good chiropodist in the world!  I will find one in Nottingham”: my New Years Resolution.  If, in 1996, I wasn’t sure what a chiropodist did, then in 2019 I had no idea what a podiatrist did.  Are they the same?  I’d soon find out.

Now, any regular Reader of this Blog, will be asking ‘what has a school tea towel got to do with a podiatrist?’.   I find myself  in the ‘surgery’, giving my medical details when he says “I see you are the Curator of a Tea Towel Museum”.  I’m thinking: how does he know that and, of course, I realise I made the appointment by email, and reference to the Museum automatically comes up.  Talking about tea towels is a good distraction while he hacks off a lump of my toe nail, and of course, I can talk at length about tea towels.  “Having a Virtual Tea Towel Museum must save a lot of space” he says.  I explain that I do actually own 1150 tea towels but the Museum holds even more.  “We have a school tea towel from my nephew’s school” he says.

“Ah, this is a dilemma for relatives.  Do you use it or just keep it in a drawer?” I ask, remembering the debate on Radio Norfolk.

“It’s in a drawer somewhere.  I’ll look it out for your next visit”.  Sounds unlikely but I’m always hopeful.  Must remember to take the camera for a photo-shot.  His throw-away line is that although they do not collect tea towels in their house, Brian the Bear has his own Facebook page, showing the places he visits and his different outfits.  And I think I’m a bit eccentric!

The following day, an envelope falls through my letter box with a note on it: Thought you might give this a good home.  Wow.  Unused, pristine but could do with a bit of an iron (easily done) and a Stuart Morris one so better quality than most.  I look at the drawings; I wonder which is his nephew.  I’m struck by Rhys’s drawing; I love the stripy outfit.  I have to know.  In my thank you email, I ask him.  “My nephew is Finlay.  Looking forward to your blog.  I think Finlay will be quite tickled to find his tea towel in a Museum”.  I find Finlay’s drawing; it’s as good as Rhys’s.  I love looking at the drawings, and wondering about the children.  Mia is definitely going to be a model, Matthew a boxer, Hannah a graduate, Edward a rugby player, Isla a break dancer but Finlay is obviously happy, with a wonderful smile (although maybe somewhat embarrassed, at this point, to know his self-portrait is being seen around the world).

And that is the joy of tea towels, a sharing of experiences and learning about other people’s weird obsessions.  Thank you for sharing your tea towel with me and introducing me to Brian!  I hope you haven’t embarrassed Finlay too much.