So I tidied my study.
Can you tell that this is going to be an edge-of-your-seat blog post, a white knuckle ride of dastardly deeds and derring-do? Well if you’d seen the state of the room beforehand, you might feel that you weren’t too far awry in that opinion.
(There was going to be knitting in this post, too, but quirky study stuff took over, so the knitted pretties are reserved for next time. Please do stick around, my fine fibrous friends.)
Anyway, would you like to take a look around, now that I’ve removed the spiders from the underside of the desk and generally had a clear-out? My study is my dark, secret, little cave, hidden away yet right in the middle of the house. Look, the door is open: come in!
There aren’t actually huge numbers of books in here because there are bookcases scattered everywhere throughout the rest of the house (we take a firm and unwavering it’s-not-a-home-unless-it’s-filled-with-books line), and most of my psychology books/journals are in my office at work.
So here’s one corner (shelves and cupboards are by the Stoic Spouse). See that Singer sewing machine? It’s been in my family for 117 years.
Look at this receipt for its purchase:-
My great-great-grandmother, Mrs McLean, aka ‘Granny Mac’ bought it in 1899. Here is the only photo that I have of her:-
She stares sternly across my desk and disapproves of almost everything I do.
Anyway, the sewing machine was originally treadle-operated, but my step-great-grandfather (whom I remember mostly for his deafness and for his love of inhaling snuff of an evening) converted it to electric in the 1950s for my great-grandmother (whom I remember very well). He was a handy chap, my step-great-grandfather, but I guess most people were, back then. In our sitting room is the wooden trunk that he made and took with him on the submarines in World War One: unlike most submariners of the time, he came back alive. His name is mounted on the lid:-
(OK, it wasn’t painted that blue-purple colour when he had it.)
My great-grandmother, although apprenticed to a tailor on leaving school at 12, didn’t like sewing. She gave up the apprenticeship. The Singer probably wasn’t her favourite possession.
In World War Two, the family was bombed out of their Coventry home (November 1940), and family folklore has it that the sewing machine sat out on the kerb for three weeks before being rescued, mysteriously unlooted (unlike many of the family’s other possessions).
It came down the maternal line to me about 25 years ago, and I set about making this patchwork quilt.
These days, I confess that it sits idle (you’ll note the dull, modern, easy-to-use Brother in the photo earlier on), but I really should get it serviced and back in use.
But let’s move on. Here’s another corner:-
Have you any idea how easy it is to spray-paint a filing cabinet? I thoroughly recommend the practice.
And another corner (they’re getting less impressive as we go round…)
Oh, and I love the mottled light from above:-
And the ceramic door and cupboard handles.
And the coat-hook behind the door, home to a couple of bags I’ve designed.
But I haven’t got round to hanging pictures yet. There’s the geological map of Britain (I’ve always been passionate about geology, ever since seeing my father’s book of minerals when I was a small child. And when I up sticks and toddle off anywhere, I do like to check this map to see what sort of rock I’ll be sitting on.)
And the Freedom Of The City Of Coventry awarded to my great-great-grandfather for we’re-not-quite-sure-what impressive deed:-
I hope you’ve enjoyed the tour. All the pretty knitting things I’d planned to add to this post will have to wait until next time. I’d best get on with them, then…
Love that Singer! Not to mention your fork coat hook on the door! Did you make it?
Nope, I can’t take credit for the fork hook. (Wish I could!) I bought it in London (Covent Garden). It’s beautiful.
Wonderful Phil!! 🙂 Your maternal family history is fascinating _ & I love the old Singer sewing machine – didn’t realise that was what you used to make your wonderful quilt! Love your quirky blog!!! 🙂 x
Thank you. 🙂 I confess I haven’t used the machine much since the quilt. Must get it serviced and back into use…
I love the story of the sewing machine! Working in archives I usually see bits of history that have been disconnected from their families, and this is much nicer 🙂
Thank you. Yes, objects are much more interesting when they’re still attached to their family stories. (I bet your job is fascinating, though.)
Thank you showing us around your creative space.
You’re very very welcome. 🙂
Hmm, my room needs a tidy too.
I also have an old Singer sewing machine. Mine was purchased new by my mother in about 1919, and is a hand wheel job. She bought it on the never-never and when my grandfather found that out he was furious, paying off the balance, so she then had to repay him. He told her she should always save up to buy anything, which she did from then on.
I learnt to sew on it, and it still gets used occasionally, having outlived several electric versions.
Your quilt is a masterpiece.
Yikes, I imagine these machines must have cost a fortune in 1919 money. Glad that yours is still going too, especially as it hasn’t been converted to electric. They really are beautiful and well – made machines.
Hi Phil I hope that you feel very positive about your lovely space now that it’s tidy. My wonderful husband redecorated my redesigned room after Christmas after I promised to sort out everything I had stashed in there – gulp! It took me far longer to resolve my projects into an organised system than it took him to redecorate but the sense of well-being and relief I now have is a revelation. Having faced up to my stash and having compiled a workbook of things I want to finish and things I want to start I feel free and energised. Wishing you many happy creative hours in your tidy room. Hugs Sarah xox
Yes there’s something very therapeutic about sorting out your creative space, isn’t there? Hope you’re still loving your newly revamped and organized room. 🙂
Wow, that singer sewing machine takes me back to my grannies…which was her mothers, but I never met her. I love that you still have the receipt and the memories xx
Glad it triggered memories. Those old Singers were so beautiful, weren’t they?
Lucky you knowing your great grandparents! Not certain I would like a disapproving picture on the wall. I am sure they are very proud of you ?
Yes, I was fortunate to know four great grandparents. I do feel a bit inadequate in front of these pictures of my upstanding antecedents, though!
What as storylesson this was – so very intimate- so rich – again, after being with your blog and the material i feel like being thoroughly nourished – meaning that it would surely be a rich market for books by you. I would love to buy that, and exctly in this format – short,illustrated stories, intimate
Thank you, you’re too kind. As always. 🙂
Beautiful quilt and very interesting to see around your creative space. I agree with you about books! I realise I have books in every room in the house, except the garage and the bathrooms!
Yup, your house sounds just about perfect. 🙂
Lovely to discover a fellow Oxfordshire blogger! I love this post about your room – I had been thinking about doing a similar post myself, which would also include my great-grandmother’s sewing machine, a Jones Family CS. I also have Singers which I got into when I bought one on Ebay from someone in Didcot, along with two boxes of sewing stuff – it was that that I was going for really but I ended up with a fantastic machine. I’m much more of a sewer than a knitter or crocheter but I do a bit of the former and love all things crafty so will look forward to your posts.
Thank you for your lovely comment, and for leading me to your blog. (I just tried to leave a comment about your patchwork jeans, but I’m not sure it worked…) Meanwhile, I’m in awe of your sewing skills! Please do write that post about your great grandmother’s machine. Oh, and hello from rural south Oxfordshire. 🙂
No comment has appeared. They do disappear if you publish them before logging in one way or another to Google. Anyway, thanks for your compliments! I will definitely do a post on my sewing machine(s) and my sewing room. Better get the Jones out and dust it for a photo!
I can almost taste the history in this post Ms T. The only problem is, that most of your relatives appear to have been heroic. You have a lot to live up to. I can now see why you risk life and limb jogging in order to pound the pavements and save innocent bystanders with great derring do. Keep up the good work. I can’t sew BUT I have an indecent amount of lust for that glorious old Sewing machine. You are surrounded by your familial transcripts and memento’s. What a lovely place to inhabit 🙂
Thank you, as always. I know I shouldn’t focus on material ‘stuff’, but when the stuff in question is as beautiful as an old Singer, it’s hard not to.
What a terrific room, filled with history, yet functioning as a study, a sewing room and a keeper of whimsy and books. Well done on the tidy, Phil. Is this also where you write this very blog?
Thank you. (I confess that it’s rarely where I write the blog, though, because the sofa by the log fire in the sitting room is just a little too comfy…
Fascinating tour, Phil, thank you. The Singer machine and it’s history are fabulous – such a wonderful family treasure.
Thank you. Those old Singers are such beautiful machines.
Thanks for sharing.
You’re very welcome. 🙂