I’ve always been a details-monkey rather than a bigger-picture person.* This is one of the many, many reasons why I’m not the millionaire CEO of some entrepreneurial shebang. I’d be too busy pondering the style of door knobs for the offices to notice that the business was falling over a financial cliff.
So when I say that we went away this week for a couple o’ nights to a Somerset village so that the Toddler Twinnage could have some bucket-and-spade time, I hope you’ll understand that I’ve brought back a muddle of details to show you, rather than an organised overview.
But look at this!
In a village called Dunster, we found the Yarn Market, built in 1609 by the scion-of-the-day of the Luttrell family, a clan that clung on to the local castle for five hundred years until the 1970s. The idea of this building was to shelter the villagers (or rather their wares) from the weather as they traded the yarn and later the cloth for which this village became renowned. Because really, would you want to buy some lovely yarn if a sodding great cloud had just dumped a tonne of rain on it?
The central pillar and low perimeter wall are stone, but otherwise it’s pretty much all wood, with a tiled roof. Much loveliness, no?
We stayed in a stone cottage that was similar in age to the Yarn Market, its rooms jumbled higgledy-piggledy together with little consideration for geometry or right angles, and its walls so thick that seats had been carved out in front of the windows. In the garden, the mombretia were in full bloom (in the rain, you’ll note: traditional British holiday weather being what it is).
I love mombretia/crocosmia because it looks highly strung and exotic, but actually it romps unfussily around the otherwise all-green hedgerows in north Wales, where I first learned its name many years ago. In fact, I’ve decided to embroider some in the garden of my big-house-furniture-secret-project.
We were in half-decent fossil territory too, although we didn’t get to do any fossil-hunting on this so-brief trip. But I noticed that someone had left a gryphaea (aka ‘devil’s toe nail’) in the garden at the cottage. (There were a lot of gryphaea in my teenage years: we lived near some properly fossiliferous Jurassic beaches. I’ve a soft spot for the gnarly beasts.)
And tiny wild strawberries grew beside the path. Much small. Much tasty. Much micro-gluttony.
And finally, in a second hand bookshop beside the sea, a 1987 book by Jan Messent. Look at this!
She’s worked her knitted/crocheted gardens differently from how I’m making mine, but her pieces are so inspiring. Time to be a little more bold in the planning of my own project, I think. I’ve finished crocheting the front of the house and am now contemplating the garden. I’ve been busy with pencil and paper, and there are to be many colourful and bonkers details. I can’t wait to show you very, very soon.
*(Fortunately, it’s OK for psychologists to be into the details, so I remain employed.)
I’m pleased to hear you enjoyed Dunster & your time in Somerset.We’re lucky enough to live here & count our blessings every day.
Yup, you certainly live in a beautiful part of the world. 🙂
Thanks for a lovely trip down memory lane. We headed here on a day trip from our farm stay when our kids were little and before we headed back to NZ. Such a beautiful spot!!
You’re welcome. 🙂
And yes, it’s a beautiful spot, but NZ has some much more stunning scenery, surely?
Love the yarn market–so quaint!
Yes! Hard to believe that it’s quite so old.
I love all the pictures and the historical and flora parts too. That flower looks like it really belongs in The Bahamas. The gray skies, and cool and thick stonework, tells me it is maybe cool and rainy where you were? Looks good to me, as I am in the “Shake and Bake” state of California, (3 hours north of San Francisco). And of course the book you found adds such a fun part to the whole trip. I have STACKS of books for inspiration. Books are our friends and we can never have enough friends! Love your crochet work.
Thank you for your lovely comment. And yup, it was most definitely cool and rainy. May we borrow just a little of your weather please? I’ll send you some thick clouds by return post. (I agree about the books, too.)
Did you explore Dunster Castle? My niece spent last week doing work experience there. That book was a lucky find, what a gem!
Yes we did! It’s fabulous, although the Toddler Twinnage were rather spooked by the crypt. What a wonderful place to do work experience. Did you niece enjoy it? Far far more interesting than the dull places most people go for work experience, I’d imagine.
Oh yes, she really loved it, getting the chance to be a room guide was a highlight, by all accounts!
I bet it was. I wonder whether we saw her??
She would have been the 17 year old, 5’9″ one with mad, curly, mousey-brown hair tied back in a ponytail:)
Hmm, I’m trying to recall. I was a bit distracted by keeping the twinnage in order as they were none too impressed by the place….
That building is amazing. And I love the turn of phrase that involves micro gluttony.
Yes it was stunning, and in such pristine condition that it’s hard to believe its age.
Did the Twinnage get any bucket-and-spade time?
Yup, lots and lots, albeit in the rain. They loved it, although they daren’t go in the sea yet.
Lovely visit! Thanks for sharing with us 🙂
You’re welcome, m’dear.
Yey, you took the twinnage on a holiday! Well done. I love Dunster – went there as a kid and remember that market building.
Yup, we dared a micro-break! It is rather lovely round there.
That’s lovely, I love England. I’m off to the UK in August. Yay!
Ooh, enjoy. And welcome. Where are you going in England?
I read a book about the Jurassic Coast–I’m very intrigued! This looks like a fine holiday–my favorite part is that old, old building.
Yes it’s hard to believe that the building is as old as it is, because it looks so pristine. The Jurassic coast around south Wales (where I used to live) is fascinating, dramatic, and FULL of fossils, if you’re ever visiting the UK…
Hey, memories of childhood holidays. An aunt had a caravan on a site at Blue Anchor – we stayed there for many years – time on the beach, visits to Minehead – more time on the beach, visted Dunster but never saw the Yarn Market actually being used. Wonder if it ever is these days?
Of course, now there’s the West Somerset Railway too. Did you get to see that, or are teh TT too young for such things?
Yay, we were in Carhampton, very near Blue Anchor. Lovely spot, isn’t it? I’d be interested to know whether the Yarn Market is ever used. Must ask around. And yes yes to the railway. (I’m married to a train nut. 🙂 ) The twinnage loved it.
I do remember the Yarn Market being filmed ‘in use’ for a “Poirot” episode which used Dunster as a location.
I too married a train nut, it’s amazing what you can pick up over several years of marriage isn’t it? Like the distinctive sound of a Westinghouse brake pump at the front of a little tank engine!
Your little break sounds lovely. I recognise the yarn market from my childhood holidays there but I didn’t realise what it was, it was way before my yarny loving days 🙂 I am excited to see the next stage of the cottage/garden. x
It’s a beautiful bit of the world, isn’t it. (And the Yarn Market would have been wasted on me as a child, too!)
“5 go mad in Bognor”. Roughly akin to “Crocheting in Somerset”. Were there any murders? Whenever I see something on the telly to do with places like Somerset they are usually in a murder mystery…Tasty crochet book there Ms Twisted and you must have found the very first farmers market spot in the U.K. We have crocosmia here as well. The wallabies love them, but they grow back tenaciously every year for the chooks to hide in and lay eggs where I can’t reach them.
Well I didn’t notice any murders, but it’s hard to keep attention on everything when you’re trying to herd the twinnage, so I may just have stepped over the bodies without paying attention. There were servants’ bells in the house we rented, so who knows what backstairs shenanigans went on in ages past?
Glad you’re got crocosmia, but you’ve also got FAR more exotic looking blooms too, so I imagine the crocosmia fades into the background somewhat. And there aren’t too many wallabies in Somerset, sadly.
We have a huge pink protea bush in our garden that seems to constantly be producing flowers. I don’t notice it much (I try to stay out of that bit of the “garden” as there be blackberries and it reminds me that I should be doing something about them…aHEM*) but the black cockatoos love them and can often be seen sitting in the tall eucalyptus around the house with a large protea flower in hand/foot nibbling at them. They look like they are having a large pink cup of tea 😉
Dunster Yarn Market is a lovely old building and what a nice history it has. That book looks gorgeous. I like Montbretia too but every now and again I have to be ruthless and pull some of it out! sorry……
No! You can’t pull it out! But I agree about the loveliness of Dunster Yarn Market. 🙂
Lovely place, we passed Dunster on our way to Porlock last year. I remember seeing signs for the Yarn Market. It’s a very pretty part of the country
If you’re ever passing again, I do recommend stopping in Dunster. The Yarn Market is rather lovely…
Ooh, so pretty! And what a wonderful-looking book. I love finding treasures in second-hand bookshops. I bought a fabulous one about mediaeval embroidered animals for my mother in law once – at the time she was creating a huge tapestry wall hanging at the time which makes even your crochet house look modest!
More recently I found an almost pristine copy of The Land of Green Ginger, which is an utterly charming children’s book about the adventures of Aladdin’s son – perhaps one for the twinnage when they’re a little older?