The Simple Things Magazine May 2024 issue

May

Taking time to live well

FOLK

Maypole cake & buttercup meadow picnics

Spring greens pizza

• Sheds of character

Square-metre safari

• The magic of nightingales

• Garden like the Bloomsbury Set

• How to stop saying sorry

•

Taking a coddiwomple

Come what May

GIVE A NOD TO TRADITION AND CELEBRATE THIS LOVELY SEASON BY TAKING FRIENDS AND FOOD INTO THE GARDEN FOR A WHITSUN-INSPIRED GET TOGETHER

May is a magical month, happily bookended by two long weekends – May Day and the Spring Bank Holiday – both steeped in ancient folklore, religious significance and sunshine (hopefully). While May Day maintains its recognised celebrations of Morris dancers and maypoles, there’s no longer much of a fuss at the end of the month.

Whit Monday, as it was known until the early 1970s, marked a break in the farming year with different counties upholding their own traditions. Fairs, parades and pageants were thrown to honour the occasion, special dishes prepared, and white dresses worn to church and gatherings. We think it is high time we brought back a little Whitsun spirit and celebrated the final flourish of spring before we embrace summer proper. Make the most of the long weekends and invite friends and family to join you in the garden to linger over the best of the seasonal fare and even a maypole-inspired cake. »

Mow

the lawn, lay the table and get the hay-fever remedies at the ready, May offers a feast of long weekends

MODERN

The folk dancers

Words: JOHANNA DERRY HALL Photography: JONATHAN CHERRY

IN A WORLD

THAT CAN FEEL INCREASINGLY UNIFORM , WE’RE CELEBRATING THOSE HAPPILY DOING THINGS a bit differently. Meet the PEOPLE WHO ARE seriously PASSIONATE about their pastimes PERHAPS THEY’LL PERSUADE YOU TO TRY something NEW?

Pass a village green in May and you might be treated to the sight of people dancing with ribbons around a maypole, or the white-costumed, hanky waving knees-up of a well-choreographed Morris dance. So far, so traditional.

But look again – did that three hand reel just break into a dance battle? Did someone just drop into a breakdance freeze mid Circassian Circle? Are the dancers moving to a soundtrack of beatboxing? If Folk Dance Remixed were involved, then very possibly all of the above.

Traditional English folk dance is evolving. Back in 2010, street dance artist and choreographer Natasha Khamjani saw a call out from the English Folk Dance And Song Society who were looking for ideas on how folk music and dance could be ‘remixed’ for a modern audience. She was introduced to Kerry Fletcher, a Morris dancer, Molly dancer (similar to, but not the same as Morris) and step dancer, and the pair hit it off.

“It was early May. We set up the maypole and speakers, put on some hip hop and house tunes and danced folk dances,” says Natasha. “So much of the footwork was similar, and that sparked our interest.”

run a folk club in the 1970s, and I was brought up going to ceilidhs. At 15 I wanted to be in a company like we’ve got now. But it didn’t exist.”

Meanwhile, what captured Natasha’s attention was the way folk dancers use props –sticks, hankies, ribbons – and how that linked to the way some street dancers use scarves and canes in styles of dance such as ‘locking’ (freezing mid-sequence and then carrying on as if nothing happened). The pair began working together – Natasha even helped choreograph the maypole section of the London 2012 Olympic Opening Ceremony – and the first piece they created was a fusion of street dance and folk steps: “Morris and house, locking and breaking.”

Gradually they began to build a dance company, of the kind Kerry had longed for when she was a teenager, with a fiddle, bass, guitar, and beatbox, six dancers, a stage manager, and a sound engineer.

“We didn’t want the street dancers doing the street bits, and folk dancers doing the folk bits,” Kerry explains. “Everyone learns everything, so it’s more like a fruit salad than a soup. We want to celebrate both.”

For over a decade now, Folk Dance Remixed have performed all over the UK, as well as travelling abroad to work with refugees and asylum seekers, weaving in other national dances as part of their workshops.

» Leave your bells and hankies at home, Folk Dance Remixed are here to shake things up, thanks to Natasha (second from right) and Kerry (far right, opposite)

Kerry has a longstanding background in folk traditions. “Folk was my first language. My mum, Dixie Lee, used to

While the skills are important, participation is key. “Dance can be intergenerational and cross-cultural. It breaks down barriers and makes people feel included,” says Natasha. When people see them perform, the hip hop beats draw them in and the mix of ethnicities in the company and dance styles means people are able to see themselves in it, she explains.

Nettles

Elderflower

Broad beans

Corn Peas

Strawberries

Sweet peas

Anya potatoes

Lettuce

Spring onions

Radishes

Pumpkins

Tales from a veg patch

MAKING THE MOST OF THE HARVEST AT HOME, THEN PACKING IT UP FOR A PICNIC, KATHY SLACK SERVES UP SEASONAL FOODS AND SHARES STORIES FROM HER BACK GARDEN GROWING

Words & recipes: KATHY SLACK Photography: KIRSTIE YOUNG

PREPARE TO PICNIC

On the first properly warm day of the year you might expect to find me in the veg patch, bothering the weeds. But you will not. I’ll be picnicking in the buttercup field behind the village green. Lolling about like a Laurie Lee character, basking in the sun and eating cake. I believe that the sun must be welcomed in with a nice meal and my full attention or she might take offence and sulk behind a cloud before you can say “deckchairs”. So, I bring the harvest indoors to prepare it, then head out again to create a picnic that’ll make summer feel so welcome she can’t help but stay for months.

Well, that’s the plan anyway. The patch has other, less idyllic, ideas. The days might be warm, but there’s still a chill in the night air so, while many crops are well on their way, the plot hasn’t produced much to eat yet. Those plants that offer edible leaves are just starting

to produce crops – lettuce, spinach, rocket, all the herbs. But anything that produces a ‘fruit’ of any sort – carrots, courgettes, beetroot, beans – are still some way off. Peas and radishes are the notable exception since they can be sown in early March and grow quickly so have had long enough to produce a first, tentative crop. My wild strawberries are just ripening, too, so we won’t starve. The herbs are the real hero of the month. I have a few in a bed just outside the kitchen and I find this is so sheltered it allows me to keep more tender herbs like tarragon and lemon verbena going all year round rather than replanting each spring. In fact, this year the tarragon is so rampant that it has swamped the parsley and needs taming. I cut great fistfuls of it for the kitchen and the smell is divine. Alongside the tarragon I gather the first peas, wild strawberries, radishes, lettuce and lemon verbena to make a picnic to welcome the season. »

Let me show you around my garden in the Cotswolds. I grow fruit and veg for my recipes and also for my soul, because I’ve found growing food –reconnecting with the soil – to be a powerful restorative in rough times. All this abundance is what inspires my cooking and my way of life. I look out on the raised beds, the herb patch, the tomato pots, and the fledgling orchard, wondering what to cook. I’m never sure where the growing stops and the cooking starts, which is how I like it. I hope that these simple recipes, and the stories behind them, inspire you to get your hands in the soil, too.

WANDERLUST

‘A love of walking’ (noun, German)

While wanderlust might evoke an appetite for foreign travels, the original expression means something different. Wandern is the German verb ‘to hike’, while lust signifies ‘joy’ or ‘pleasure’. Whether with friends or strangers,

walking in a group can offer a sense of security and connection. Take a look at groups such as Black Girls Hike (bghuk.com), for Black women to explore nature (see TST issue 111); Every Body Outdoors (everybodyoutdoors.co.uk), hosting hikes for plus size people; and Muslim Hikers (muslimhikers.com), all working to make the outdoors a more inclusive space.

TALK THE WALK

THESE EIGHT WORDS FOR WALKING MAY HELP INSPIRE NEW JOURNEYS ON FOOT

SOLIVAGANT

‘To wander alone’ (adjective, English)

Deriving from the Latin words solus meaning alone, and vagans meaning to wander, this forgotten English word describes someone who loves to walk by themselves. Solo walking can be immensely freeing, affording us the space to connect with ourselves and allow our minds to daydream, to compose and finish thoughts. Clearly marked with acorn symbols, National Trails like the South Downs Way or the Ridgeway follow old drovers’ roads and trackways that have been used since prehistoric times, providing easy-to-navigate routes through some of England’s finest landscapes. Walking along stretches of these popular paths in daylight can help you feel secure so you can let your mind wander and build your confidence walking alone.

DAUWTRAPPEN

‘To get up before dawn and go for a walk’ (verb, Dutch)

This delightful Dutch term (literally ‘kicking the dew’), dates back to the Middle Ages when devotees would travel on foot to different churches for prayer. Nowadays the custom, which in the Netherlands might involve walking barefoot through the morning grass or going for a bike ride at dawn, is believed to be healing. Even if you’re not an early riser, there’s something grounding about walking barefoot over dewy grass and springy moss or feeling the squelch of mud between your toes. Barefoot trails, such as those at Godolphin in Cornwall or Castell Henllys in Pembrokeshire, lead shoe-less walkers through various textures from smooth slate to tickly fir cones, crunching gravel to sticky clay.

Words: JO TINSLEY Illustrations: EMY LOU HOLMES

THE RUN OF THE MILL

AN OLD DEVONSHIRE MILL HOUSE, PACKED WITH ORIGINAL FEATURES – INCLUDING A WATER WHEEL – HAS BECOME A ONE-OF-A-KIND FAMILY HOME

Photography: CARMEL KING Words: KAREN DUNN

The beating heart of this unique family home, the kitchen, has a wonderful view of the old water wheel. With views like these, the kitchen chores must seem that little bit more appealing

SHED AHEAD

Why limit your shed to storage? Take your cue from these shed-lovers who show that with a bit of imagination and a fair bit of elbow grease, they can become whatever kind of space your heart wants them to be

Words: JULIAN OWEN

Sheds are generally simple affairs erected for modest purposes; a flat-pack that can – with only minimal hammered thumbs and muttered oaths – become a wee storage space for bikes, bags of topsoil, and not-quitefinished tins of paint.

Occasionally, though, in the hands of a rare breed known as ‘sheddies’, they can become the manifestation of an ambition altogether more vaulting. They might, for instance, include a bed-housing loft space or a rooftop apiary. Perhaps they’ll double as a pub. And rather than overlapping plywood planks they may instead owe their construction to upturned boats, living tree trunks, or hundreds of recycled milk cartons.

Thus, creations likely to appeal to Andrew Wilcox, coiner of the ‘sheddies’ collective noun and founder of the Shed of the Year contest. Indeed, all the concepts listed above are past entries in a competition whose popularity has seen it attract both sponsorship (Cuprinol, naturally) and even, for four series, its own Channel 4 show.

Shed of the Year’s foundations were laid in a 1999 pub visit, when Andrew explained to friends that he wanted to build one for himself but was struggling for ideas. “We got talking about sheds from our past,” he recalls, “and I decided to set up a website to see what other people have created.”

The competition followed eight years later.

Andrew’s passion was cultivated in the Rhondda Valley allotment where, in one of his grandfather’s examples, he “spent a lot of time learning how to garden and chill out with a brew.” A good shed, he says, comes down to individuality. A self-designed build might be unique, “but, even a decorated off-the-shelf one is brilliant – it’s all about personality.”

Enjoy this selection, which find sheddies being inspired by people from Michelangelo to a bloke on Grand Designs

THE ALLOTMENT SHED

area with a compost loo, so if they must pee they’re not ruining my cherry tree.”

This shed puts an altogether cultivated spin on that hoary old chauvinist epithet, “her indoors”. Kelly Haworth was wondering how to afford a shed for the family allotment when, on Facebook, she “stumbled on someone giving away all these old 80s doors with glass panels and thought ‘They’d be ideal!’” Three weeks later, she’d collected the 15 doors that comprise ‘the Potting Shed’. “All except two were free; people were glad to be rid of them.” A light-giving, Wickessourced corrugated roof tops the assemblage.

Improvised though it might be, Kelly knew what her design should contain.

“I needed a little kitchenette area for a cup of tea, because it’s four minutes’ walk away from the house.” Some free pallet wood later, et voilà! A work bench and tool store were similar necessities, similarly built with doors and pallets. And then there’s the children’s needs. “Because I sometimes take them with me and they don’t like to wait, there’s a little

Beautifully finished though it might be, Kelly underlines that her creation is very much “a working shed, not just for show. It’s a nursery for young plants, a place to harvest everything I’ve grown, whether that be herbs or food or cut flowers.

“It’s also my quiet place. The great thing about an allotment is it’s not attached to your house, so there’s no ‘I’ve got to do the housework!’ or ‘I’ve got to help the kids!’ When the weather starts to improve, I go every day for at least an hour, sometimes I take a book. It clears the cobwebs.”

A couple of years ago, Kelly saw Shed of the Year on TV and decided to give it a shot.

“I thought, ‘What’s the worst that could happen?’” In fact, she won. “The world went mad for about two weeks!” she says. “People phoning, papers, TV… I had no idea what a big a deal it would be, but it really is. People love their sheds in Britain, don’t they?”

@ohhomelygirl »

Small wonders

LOOKING AT THE NATURAL WORLD UP CLOSE AND IN DETAIL CAN REVEAL AMAZING PLANTS AND ANIMALS. TRY A ONE-METRE SAFARI OUTDOORS, SUGGESTS JENI BELL

As my feet stomped up the steep chalk slope, my mind was busy, mentally replying to emails, listing chores, and planning meals. As usual, I was hurrying and not paying attention to my surroundings. But, between the spring sun’s warmth, the steady incline and my hurried pace, I found myself needing to catch my breath.

On stopping, a flash of colour caught my eye, drawing my gaze downwards. A common blue butterfly, decked out in the colour of cornflowers, sailing over a sea of yellow: cowslips, meadow buttercups and bird’s-foot trefoil; a member of

the pea family and sole food source for the caterpillars of the butterfly that had demanded my attention. As I tuned into where I was, other colours started to emerge: milkwort’s dark blue petals, the amber splashes of the orange-tipped butterfly’s wings, and the five-spot burnet moth’s red spotted markings on its dramatic black wings.

Living close by, I’ve always been aware of the abundance of life in these chalk downlands. You can find up to 40 species of wildflower in just one square metre, but I’d never slowed down enough to witness it. It made me wonder, how many of these square-metre pockets are we missing? Ecologists often mark out one-metre quadrats for their surveys, examining one area closely and paying attention to the often overlooked. What if we were to do the same? To stop and draw an imaginary quadrat around us. What would we uncover by looking closer, by slowing down, by really noticing? Especially now, as spring has settled into its stride and summer’s just around the corner, when nature is fully awake, the wildflowers are blooming, birds are nesting, and the weather is calling us outside.

PASTURES NEW

You can take this square-metremindset anywhere. It doesn’t have to be in the wilds, it could be a favourite tree, a garden, or a window box filled with pollinator-friendly plants like lavender. You could do it waiting at the bus stop, or on a walk in the park. It could even be as simple as watching a single square of sky, deciphering the shapes of clouds drifting across it.

Hedgerows make excellent spots for square-metre safaris, as they offer both shelter and feeding opportunities for wildlife. They’re often comprised of several species like elm, elder and bramble but at this time of year, the hawthorn »

PHOTOGRAPHY: GETTY; ISTOCK; ALAMY; ANNELIESE KLOS

AN APPREC I

Words: FERGUS COLLINS

Are any creatures busier than blue tits with a nest full of hungry young? Having up to 14 nestlings means it’s dawn-till-dusk work for the adults in May, trying to find enough caterpillars and other tasty invertebrates to satisfy the brood. Whenever I feel challenged by childcare, I think of blue tit parents and how they are rushing around at this time of year.

They seem to be everywhere: in gardens, parks and woodland edges, ceaselessly flitting along twigs, hanging upside down to inspect every leaf for prey. Unlike their larger great tit cousins, blue tits rarely deign to forage on the ground, but they may make up to 1,500 sorties a day in search of food.

Blue tit breeding is all about timing. Though a female blue tit may begin laying her eggs in late March, she won’t start incubating them until the last one is laid – so the process may take up to two weeks. When you realise that a single egg weighs 1g and the female only weighs 10g, it’s an impressive physiological feat. The eggs then take two weeks to hatch, by which point, in late April or early May, there should be a host of insects to feast on.

During courtship and incubation, the male is out defending the territory – trilling a ‘tchee-tchee – diddlydiddly-diddly’ song, the ending a high-pitched nervous giggle. But nervousness is not something I’d ever ascribe to the blue tit. Despite its size, it’s irrepressible – assertive to the point of aggression with larger birds. The white face, blue cap and black eyeliner give the bird rather dashing

looks, and it’s common enough that if you fill a birdfeeder with peanuts or sunflower seed hearts, you’re sure to attract blue tits to it – they love these protein-rich treats.

I’ve heard people talk about ‘my blue tits’, but recent studies have shown that a typical garden might be visited by dozens, if not hundreds, of blue tits over spring as the birds forage on wide circuits. It’s virtually impossible to tell individual blue tits apart. But then again, they probably think the same about us.

The combination of charming boldness and amusing acrobatics helps distinguish the blue tit from the three other tit species that often visit gardens. The larger, robin-sized great tit has a bold black stripe down its breast and a strident two-note song: ‘teacher-teacher’. The tiny, reticent coal tit has no blue plumage, while the long-tailed tit tends to flit through the trees in family groups like troupes of miniature monkeys.

Blue tits haven’t always been viewed so fondly, though. In the days when almost everybody had milk delivered to their door, the little bejewelled bandit learned to peck through the foil cap to get at the cream. But the rise of supermarket shopping and skimmed milk mean that this once-common theft is now just a memory.

It’s this long intimacy with us that I find most endearing. But I need to remind myself that the antics of these tiny birds are not for my amusement – especially in spring when every feeding mission is vital for the survival of the next generation of busy blue tits. So I watch them with joy – and a lot of hope.

Pizza piazza

SPRUCE UP THE GARDEN FURNITURE BECAUSE COOKING OUTDOORS SEASON HAS OFFICIALLY BEGUN. TIME TO EXPERIMENT WITH THE PIZZA OVEN*

If you like what you see you can buy an issue from

www.picsandink.com

Want to hear more from The Simple Things?

Sign up to our fortnightly e-newsletter

www.thesimplethings.com/newsletter

www.thesimplethings.com