Observations from a Hill

Christmas Day... we've seen most of those close to us, fed a few of them and downed a few drinks along the way - pictured, the roast of the day - pretty much a whole pork belly side. All in all though, and conviviality and good companionship aside, all rather too much for my digestive system these days; but very nice anyway. Time to doze in front of the fire and an ancient film on TV... 

'Twas the night before Christmas - well actually it is the night before Christmas - and there's not a creature stirring all through this house apart from our good selves, gradually getting stuff together for the festive blowout tomorrow. It's approaching freezing outside, which feels like a rare occurrence these days, and it looks set for a frosty start to Christmas Day, so we've turned on one of the storage heaters for the first time since last winter, so at least the sitting room will be warm first thing. We've got a pork belly for the main meal which I'll slow roast from around eight o'clock tomorrow morning and then finish off with the roast potatoes when we get back from the pub for lunch. As to the rest, it will all fall into place as we go, I hope. Given enough to drink and plenty of food, I don't foresee any great drama, short of the kind of power cut we experienced some thirty years ago, when we lived at Brynbella Cottage [pictured above in sun...

One last thought on slate, and quarrying the material here in North Wales, prompted by yet another woeful tale of silicosis in the business of cutting quartz kitchen surfaces here in the UK. The case in question is of Luke Bunker, who at the ridiculously young age of twenty-eight, was diagnosed with silicosis and COPD, after working in this disastrously unregulated workplace environment. Twenty-eight. In the few short years of his employ, he has succumbed to the kind and extent of disease that used to take a lifetime of hazardous working to arrive at. I've been watching another archive documentary about working in the Chwarelau of the North Wales slate industry today, focussing on the Dinorwig quarries that surround Llanberis. One of the interviewees related the presence and depth of the slate dust in the cutting sheds of the quarry, and how breathing protection was not even a consideration back in the day: which tragically chimes with the twenty-first century example mentioned ab...

I've been much engaged of late in viewing a lot of old, slow video media, courtesy of YouTube; featuring long-thought lost programming from decades-past UK TV. I'm not talking about re-runs of Blankety Blank or Are You Being Served, but rather of the more thoughtful and considered documentary kind, which we do so well in this archipelago of small countries that we call the United Kingdom. In particular the output by the estimable Jack Hargreaves, a man of far more depth and media-savvy than his avuncular, pipe-smoking on-screen persona might suggest. Anyway, if you feed the algorithm with enough searches for this type of material, all sorts of extraordinary footage from the archives emerges, like TikTok in a parallel universe for people of, shall we say, a more mature generation: you gotta game it to play, people. One such gem I found tonight is this episode of 'Horizon'. Living in North Wales and being immensely proud of our family's connections and heritage in the...

Winter Solstice is upon us yet again: I have to say this one of my favourite days of the year, despite the insistent late afternoon crepuscule that lies beyond the windows of our house; when we look forward to the coming spring and summer, and leave behind the gloom and despair of winter. One other good thing about this particular coming week of course is the annual seasonal excuse to for once be nice to one another, and share food and wine at table with friends and family, no matter what has travailed us in the year past. Over the years our number has sadly depleted, but, as always we look forward to our Christmas meal in good company; to eat and drink far more than we need, and ignore the hole the whole thing has left in our finances, for just a few days, at least. The point of this time of year is the looking forward to the future whilst absolutely enjoying simply being present in the moment. Ignore the religion, ignore the commercial Christmas pressures, and ignore the mawkish sent...

Referring back to last night's post about the Sheffield penknife cutler, I watched another couple of videos from this wonderful series this afternoon, including one about auger making at the Footprint factory in the same city. By the way, my lifetime awareness of and familiarity with the Footprint brand is via the above-illustrated pipe wrench, colloquially known amongst gas engineers such as my dad, who gave me this pair, as 'Footprints', just as pipe-grips were known as 'Gordons' after their originator, and likewise 'Stilsons', also eponymously referenced. Many brands of all three designs exist, but I will always refer to them by these names, much like we use the term 'Hoover' to reference any old vacuum cleaner. The title of this little scribble? I think most practical people of a certain age would recognise 'sprue' as the bits of waste material that result from the pour and vent holes of a casting, later to be removed to release the cast ...