Tag: family

Do I really need the rubber duckie? Resisting the seduction of novelty and consumerism.

On By Emma2 Comments

I’ve been away from my ‘field notes blog’ for quite some time. I’m nearing the end of my PhD now, in the final leg, so I thought I’d start posting again. So, with my love of the natural world and our environment, here’s a new blog post which felt timely in the run up to Christmas and the crazy consumerism that Christmas instils upon us.

A couple of weeks ago I was queuing up in a local corner shop. The guy in front of me had just made his purchase, when his child noticed a jar of Halloween themed green eyeballs on the counter. This kid was about three, very cute with a large set of lungs.

His Dad had just bought him a kinder egg, but the kid changed his mind at the last minute.

‘I want an eyeball,’ was the clear statement that left the kid’s lips as he pointed at the jar and firmly held his dad’s gaze.

‘Come on now,’ his dad said, ‘we’ve got chocolate.’ (Waving kinder egg in front of child’s face).

‘BUT I want an eyeball.’ (Much more determined this time.)

Now, there was a moment here, when things could have swung either way as father and son eyeballed each other, and the queue (now three or four people), waited with mounting pressure for the dad to make the right decision (I’ll let you decide what that was). The kid seeing his dad wavering and evidently feeling close to getting his hands on the novelty eyeball sweet, dug in his heels and opened his lungs.

The thing that interests me here is the anticipation of the purchase. We all know that shopping gives us a dopamine hit, and releases the same feel-good hormones, but apparently so does the anticipation of getting the product.

I found this interesting article in Psychology Today, which gives us a brief overview of an experiment conducted with monkeys (that’s also something else to come back to) which showed that dopamine is released way before the reward. This means that as soon as we are scrolling, browsing, viewing – our brain is releasing dopamine anticipating the joy that is soon to be ours. The issue is, that it doesn’t last when we receive the ‘thing’, our dopamine drops and we move on to anticipating the next thing, it’s a never-ending cycle of consumerism. 

None of us are immune to this. I’ve been resisting the urge to buy a mini model of Zoltar recently. It’s a mini model of a fortune telling machine, which was ironically invented as a stage prop for the film ‘Big’ featuring Tom Hanks in 1988, and then made it to arcades across the world. (There’s a whole rabbit hole to fall down here – if you want to go down that route I suggest following this link.)

Why do I want this? It brings back memories of the seaside and childhood. I love a bit of mystical novelty, so I guess owning ‘stuff’ is also a physical representation of our identity and memories. (For anyone who hasn’t come across these seaside arcade delights – the Zoltar model is a dummy in a glass case, that for the costly sum of £1 will tell you about your fortune via a little bit of card that the machine spits out). There’s a couple of these machines outside the arcades at Scarborough that are notorious for simply thieving the £1 coin and withholding the magical slip of paper that foretells your future. (Not a good omen in my opinion).

I’m anticipating having mini Zoltar sitting on my desk, spitting out daily fortunes for me and occasional visitors. The reality is that after the first few spits, is that I know that it will end up being another bit of plastic detritus collecting dust. I know that the novelty of the fortunes will wear off, and it will inevitably end up in a bag for the charity shop in around a year, when I’ve had my fun and admitted to myself that it was a useless purchase. 

In an age where plastic production and plastic waste is of increasing concern, why aren’t we asking more questions about what we actually need and what we are purchasing? How do we circum-navigate the craving and the anticipation and seek dopamine rewards elsewhere?

We are bombarded with novelty everywhere we go, it’s a cheap thrill. That cute rubber duck to sit on the side of the bath.  A hit of endorphins that soon wears off. I’m trying to wake myself up to consumerism and ask myself if I really need something before I buy it. I wonder if there should be higher taxes on what materials are used for, novelty being the highest? It’s not just about plastic production; it’s about using all our resources mindfully. 

Like everyone else, I want to buy my children toys, I love hiking I want a great waterproof jacket and all the kit, I also love a nick knack, but what if we all consumed things more cautiously and treasured the things that we own? What if we bought the best we could afford and make it last? What if gift giving became the gift of time or experience and the items in our homes were real treasures?

And for anyone interested in making a difference here’s some ideas for alternatives to buying novelty items as gifts….

  • Choose one beautiful thing over many bits of novelty. I recently bought one gorgeous silver ring for my family to give me as a birthday gift. There’s a website here aimed at just this idea: Buy Me Once.(A website aimed at selling goods that will last). 
  • Experiences. I’d rather have your time than a physical gift. Support a local café or attraction as a treat. (I love a visit to Harrogate Spa in Yorkshire. I also love tea and cake…hint hint).
  • Buy a charitable gift (whether it’s a donation twinning someone’s toilet, or planting a tree – do good with a gift and champion our environment.)
  • Make something (OK – no-one would want my baked goods) – but you get the gist. My sister just took the time to knit me a gorgeous hat and scarf, this meant way more than some plastic schizzle.
  • Buy second hand, opt for circular production.

It isn’t always possible to avoid the shop counter with your kids. But here’s some other ideas for dopamine hits when we get the chance:

  • Bake together. (You can get a hit of the purchase choosing and buying the ingredients).
  • Create new things with pre-loved lego (we inherited loads of lego second-hand – its cheap to pick up second hand – what can you invent?)
  • Game together – I fell in love with Minecraft after my son spent an hour creating a cat themed roller coaster – it’s a great tool for the imagination. It’s also great in moderation for buying a little adult headspace.
  • Junk modelling – there’s nothing better than creating a junk model with items from the recycling bin. Our favourite was building model boats which we then attached to string and pulled along on our walk by the local pond.
  • Creating sculptures in nature – You don’t have to be a kid to do this. Andy Goldsworthy is the master. An hour out in the woods making cool stuff out of found items is a great way to spend the afternoon. Combine it with a follow up hot chocolate.
  • Den building / even better a den to watch a film from. Active time with down time in den cosiness (depending on the size of the adult and the den).

I’ve made this little chart to help make better choices when I shop, feel free to use it too.

Imagination -V- Reality as a painter….

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During August I spent two days in a cute little Shepherd’s hut at Hadrian’s Wall Campsite, which is gorgeous by the way, the owners are very eco friendly and maintain a quiet site. It isn’t overcrowded, everything is beautifully thought out and there were lots of lovely touches within the hut we stayed in.

I’ve been trying to move away from photo realistic drawing and painting to putting in more of my own perception and feeling. My daughter and I walked from the campsite following Hadrian’s Wall to the Sycamore Gap, where we payed our respects to what is left of the original tree, and we’re delighted to see new shoots coming up from the stump. From there we dropped down for a welcome rest at The Sill Visitor Centre before taking a walk back along an old Roman road track to complete a circular walk to our campsite.

Feeling tired after our walk (about seven miles) I was delighted to discover that there was a tin of fresh coffee in the hut and settled down into the sunshine with my drink to make an acrylic sketch in my journal.

I had taken photos along the way, but decided to paint one image etched in my memory, which I remembered as beautiful purplish blue stones with a huge clump of harebells growing behind it. I set myself the challenge of painting from memory rather than using my photo for reference.

I was really surprised to find how different the colours were in my actual photo opposed to how I remembered them. However this was a good lesson about perception, colour saturation in photographs doesn’t necessarily capture the essence of what we perceive and feel of a scene. It’s a bit like writing down a description of somewhere using only fact opposed to building in layers of feeling. We are all drawn to certain colours, scenes and views – as we are certain words and language. Does it matter that my sketch wasn’t 100% accurate? Not at all. It captured how I felt in that moment.

When I think of some of my favourite painters such as Bonnard – the use of colour is vibrant – almost glowing, vivid and ethereal. To progress in my work I think I need to work from imagination, with sketches and photos for quick reference, but with an emphasis on trusting my instinct and feeling to capture the moment, to showcase how I perceive the world.

I recommend this challenge to anyone interested in stretching their skills in painting and in developing their own unique style. It also made me think of my brilliant friend Bridget Wilkinson who creates amazing art of the North East Coastline in a very distinctive way and colour palette.

Hope you enjoy the challenge!

Walking the Cleveland Way Part 1.

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Growing up in Staithes (in my opinion the most atmospheric and beautiful village in the world) the Cleveland Way was a regular feature of my life. The path runs through the village and along the spectacular North East Coastline running all the way along the coast from Saltburn and ending in Filey Bring North Yorkshire.

I regularly walked along the cliff paths to the next village of Runswick Bay, often doing the first part via the rocks at low tide as far as Port Mulgrave which is a stretch of evocative and raw coastline rich in fossils and steeped in history. In the opposite direction we could walk along Boulby cliffs to the alum mines – (where you can see the fantastic Miner’s Bait Table sculpture by Katy Ventress, who happens to be the younger sister of a special friend to me), sometimes going as far as Saltburn along what was the old railway line and past the iconic charm bracelet sculpture, there is a great blog post about that here.

*Links to the Miner’s Bait Table and the Charm Bracelet Sculpture blog posts from the brilliant https://www.realyorkshireblog.com which I have just discovered and look forward to exploring further!

Walking the full Cleveland way was something that I always dreamt of doing, but have to admit (and assumption is the mother of all cock ups), that I wrongly assumed it was a full coastal route. Discussing this with some friends a few months ago, we decided that we would endeavour to walk the route in sections as and when we could, from start to finish. It was then that I discovered the route actually starts in Helmsley, before looping in land and meeting the coast at Saltburn and completing the part that is well known to me.

We completed stage one during June, with 10 of us in total. Two families with five children between us and one grandparent. Starting at the acorn sculpture by the Castle Carpark in Helmsley we ventured off into the hills and spent a beautiful day enjoying the scenery, stopping to picnic by a stream in a meadow full of wild flowers. Having a range of ages (the eldest kids being 16 and the youngest 8) we let the older ones set off ahead of us with walkie talkies and a map! A brave move – that payed off, allowing them to forge ahead but also ensuring we all stayed on the right track.

We decided to end the first stretch of the walk at the Sutton Bank Visitors centre, but made the dog loop end part of the walk to stand above the White Horse at Kilburn – this added on another mile or two and some very tired children – but it was worth it for the view! We also all loved watching the gliders take off. I’m not sure when we will complete part 2, it may take us many years to do the whole thing – combining busy family calendars and different challenges along the way, but that’s part of the fun – to have our own little walking collective and shared ambition. Most of all, we loved enjoying this amazing landscape right on our doorstep.

The stunning view above the White Horse of Kilburn, Easingwold.

Plein-air painting, a lesson in bravery.

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It’s been well over two years since I’ve taken out my acrylics or oils.

There’s also a big difference between painting from a photograph to painting a scene outdoors in situ. Today we visited Pool Bridge Farm for some wild swimming and I took my acrylics to dive back in head first to painting.

The hardest thing about painting outside is other people’s curiosity. I try and see it as a positive thing, but when you put down your undercoat and first blocks of shadows – it can be quite daunting when passers by are giving you funny looks (work down the pics to the last one – which is the first stage of my painting!).

Final sketch (I used titanium white for final highlights – which in hindsight was a bit much, I was going to work into it further at home, but sadly some of the paint stuck tog on the journey home and tore the sketch).

I’m always very heavy handed with oils and acrylics – I had also forgotten how quickly acrylics dry (note to self look into products to extend drying time).

I’m pleased I did it though. Painting for me – isn’t about being gallery worthy, it’s about relaxing and absorbing a scene, appreciating every detail.

It’s amazing how tiring it is trying to concentrate on painting. It makes you appreciate the skills of great artists who spend hours in the studio. This kept me entertained for well over an hour. At the end I reverted to my pen to add some finer details as this was just a sketch.

I’m glad I did it, and also glad I braved the icy waters for a dip, although I’m going to have to build up some tolerance again!

2nd stage of painting..

End result:

1st stage of painting, using an undercoat – which next time I would lighten, and blocking out shadows with an old credit card.
Braving the icy waters with my daughter 🙂

A Brush with the Devil

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Anyone that has learnt to drive will have that one place that instilled the type of fear into them that might make them tempted to pull into the side of the road abandon the car and resign yourself to a life of walking.

Mine was the Devil’s Elbow, a tight hairpin bend on a steep gradient in the middle of the North Yorkshire Moors on the A169 road to Whitby. I remember chugging along age 18 in my first car, a Sunbeam Talbot, that rattled and clanked along the road. I would brace myself approaching the bend, dropping gears to chug up the hill, willing my little car to get to the top, willing myself to negotiate the gears and steering, petrified of stalling and a having to do a terrifying hill start, trying hard to ignore any cars stuck behind me in my retro vehicle, terrified of the car in front of me stalling and making me stop.

The reason for navigating this awful bend – The Devil’s Punch Bowl – otherwise known as The Hole of Horcum a spectacular spring-sapping formed basin on the Levisham Moor, formed over thousands of years by the process of natural erosion from springs flowing across the moor and carving out the basin, the process is still in action today.

I chose this walk as part of a blind selection of walks – chosen at random for a bit of fun. Driving across from York I was filled with apprehension, the weather was grey and bleak, reminding me of childhood car journeys in thick fog across the moors, scared to death that we would break down, cheering when we saw the headlights of another car approaching. The foreboding is always heightened further by the legendary Saltersgate Inn (now demolished) which sits at the bottom of the Devil’s Elbow twist in the road. It was rumoured to be haunted following the sinister murder of a customs and excise officer who, after discovering smugglers, was hit over the head with a rock and buried under the fireplace which was then kept continuously lit for 200 years!

I was so glad we went ahead with our plans and didn’t back out. Once we dropped into the Devil’s Punch Bowl we were greeted with swathes of snow and sheltered from the wind. By the time we came back up onto Levisham moor the sun was out giving us spectacular views of the vast landscape.

Down in the valley the trees were dripping with melting snow and covered in beautiful lichen formations.

My favourite story about the Devil’s Punch Bowl is the legend that it was created by the Giant Wade after he became frustrated with his wife and threw a load of earth at her! Thankfully my marriage is on much better terms and the only thing thrown by us and the kids was a load of snowballs.

Autumn / Winter 2022

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Autumn 2022 started with a visit to Scotland, sadly for a family funeral. The weather was bleak, wind and torrential rain when we arrived but by the end of the visit we were walking on the beach in sunshine watching the seals. My other half was channeling his Scottish ancestors with a beard and guernsey, not at all bothered by the storms.

As a family we have been weathering a few curve balls, sickness, bereavement, personal challenges. Hence why it has been quiet on here. I’m limping along with my research study and have some exciting developments with my nature writing freelance work (more to follow).

A much needed trip to the North East coast to see my best friend and her beautiful greyhounds was a moment of joy, a hoar frost had settled on the surrounding landscape, which brought an ethereal beauty to our walks.

Sending everyone well wishes for Christmas and New Year.

Lets hope that 2023 is a good year 🙂

The Green City of Bath…

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Before I set off for a half term adventure to Bath my friend lent me a little trug for tired little dachshund legs. A little beach trolley that we could pull our dog around in, should she decide to give up on walking. (Which is quite frequent.)

Let me explain, it’s not that she is ill, or arthritic …. we own a ‘cat’shund, a dog who thinks she is a cat. Unlike a normal dog that gets excited when you eagerly say ‘walkies’, our dog looks at you, rolls her eyes and raises a flippant paw, as if to say ‘no thanks, you go on dear, have a lovely time’ before readjusting her lounging position on the sofa.

The Roman Baths – I was very impressed with the organisation of the museum. Not too much info overload, spot on to engage adults and children.

So it was with trepidation that we set off on our city break, with my husband taking the gung ho attitude of ‘she’s a bloody dog! I am not pulling her round in a trolley!’.

Needless to say the last few days have been what we term ‘divide and conquer’, this used to be reserved for our two children, with a three year age gap. Now it’s teen activities / versus dog activities.

Finding dog friendly green spaces we discovered that Bath is one of the most beautiful and green cities that we have visited. Golden sandstone Georgian town houses, are gathered in terraced rows, proudly sitting against a vista of rolling hills and trees.

Gorgeous Autumn leaves, taken from our basement flat and both parks.
Prior Park, National Trust Site

The streets are peppered with antique shops, bric a brac finds and quirky outlets, we are all coming home with a few vintage finds. After a ten mile walk on Tuesday, in which we strayed out of the city and found Prior Park (National Trust site), and then yesterday the Royal Victoria Park with its gorgeous botanical gardens, we thought the dog would have given up. However it turns out the sight of a squirrel can re-ignite some inner canine hunting instinct and spark a burst of energy big enough to put a race horse to shame.

City streets and exploration.

She still had her moments though, which luckily for us meant a good excuse to frequent some gorgeous coffee shops and long lazy pub lunches. Her doleful eyes ensured lots of treats from cafe owners and even a carry from one of the teens. Especially after we stumbled across this smug pair:

A very dog friendly city, I highly recommend a visit. Not sure if the ‘cat’shund would agree, she is looking forward to getting back to her beloved sofa and blankets, but we will definitely be returning in the future.

Coffee shops and ‘Cat’shund.

Holiday Antics….

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Meet my gorgeous Dachshund- she’s coming up nine years old later this year. She has just accompanied us on holiday to Cornwall and Devon.

Photos: Enjoying my sunnies, being miserable due to not getting to eat my pub chips, paddling at the beach and enjoying barking at every other dog within a five mile radius!! Chilling in the holiday cabin.

Happy Summer holidays!

My friend the Pigeon. The Power of Narrative in How We Think and Feel about the World.

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This beautiful and opportunistic racing pigeon dropped in on my allotment plot a few weeks ago when I was filling up the bird feeders. We noticed that he/she had a lot of twine tangled round one foot, and as they were very friendly – managed to get hold of him/her to remove it.

It’s not the first time we’ve helped a racing pigeon. Last year one arrived on our doorstep and took shelter. I had a very excited phone call at work from my children, explaining that they had put it in the the cat carrier to protect it and had given it some food. They dutifully let it rest for the day and then released it from the back yard in the evening. Much whooping and delight was had at the thought of our good deed. The only thing was….. when I left the house the next morning it was back on the door step! When I ignored him, he flew round to the back of the house and started tapping on the kitchen window with his beak. This went on for a few days until he finally gave up and hopefully flew home.

A lot of people are disgusted by pigeons, I’ve heard the term ‘flying rat’ on a number of occasions. I find it ironic that the only thing that makes pigeons so unclean is the dirt that we create in our cities. Many are grimy because they are surviving from our waste. They often have manky feet because their toes get tangled up in human hair and debris from our products.

Pigeons are amazingly intelligent and were celebrated during the war for their efforts in delivering messages. In York we have a string foot pigeon rescue group who de-string the city pigeons feet and make sure our pigeons are well fed and cared for. When you start really looking at them and forget all the narratives you have been fed, they are really quite beautiful colours and patterns. Also – there is little difference between a pigeon and a dove – only the colour of the feathers. Isn’t it funny that feral pigeons are shooed away and doves are upheld as symbols of peace and love. I often use them as an example when teaching nature writing and philosophy – sometimes it’s good to examine a story from many angles and also our own truths within that story.

Wild Camping

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It was the sight of the tree canopy at night that most surprised me most when I went wild camping in the woods last Friday.

The camp had been booked with an instructor as a birthday treat for my 14 year old son and a couple of his friends. My husband was meant to be the ‘designated’ second adult to join the sleep over, but at the last minute fell ill with a stinking cold. So I got to go! Although of course – disappointed for my husband, I was delighted to have the opportunity to camp outdoors.

With no rain predicted we pitched our hammocks in a small clearing amongst Corsican Pine trees and decided not to bother with tarps over head.

The wood was eerily still at night, not creepy though, but quietly beautiful. I felt safe wrapped up in a sleeping bag cocoon and protected by the wood. The cool night breeze washed over my face and my body was warm and snug in thermals and eider down coziness.

It didn’t get pitch black, instead a white glow shone through the canopy, which looked like an ink blot painting against the sky.

I lay listening to sheep bleating in a distant field, the occasional ruffles of a startled pheasant and the shivering of the wind through the pine needles. At 4am the wood woke up with a cacophony of sound. The little chiff chaff merrily punctuating the air ‘wake up, wake up, wake up’ against an assortment of other bird calls.

When I say it was a ‘sleep over’ in the woods, not much sleep happened, but it was a wonderful experience to be immersed in the natural world overnight, to have the scent of woodsmoke on my skin and a warm mug of tea cupped in my hands at 6am.

For anyone interested in a wild camping experience we went with Forest Quest who I can not recommend highly enough.