Music appreciation | The Flight of the Bumblebee

Join us for a brief music lesson on Rimsky-Korsakov’s 1900 composition The Flight of the Bumblebee and find out what all the buzz was about

The fast and frenetic Flight of the Bumblebee is probably one of the most loved and recognised pieces of music in the classical canon. Obviously, it’s intended to imitate the noise and flight pattern of a bee. But here are a few more facts about it so that if it’s ever played in your presence you can nonchalantly comment on it and look very clever indeed. 

Why was it written?

It’s actually just a very small part of an opera called The Tale of Tsar Saltan. Flight is an interlude between scenes one and two of Act Three. 

What’s it all about, then?

At this point in the opera, Gvidon has been separated from his father, but an enchanted swan, whose life he once saved, turns him into a bumblebee so he can fly to find him. 

Which instruments can I hear?

It’s been played by many different ensembles, but chances are you can hear a lot of strings (mainly violins) and a flute and piccolo. Originally it was written for a symphonic orchestra. 

What should I be listening for?

Note the unusually fast tempo, which never slows, and actually becomes more frenetic as the piece moves towards its end. It’s made up of running chromatic semiquavers (sixteenths of a note), which give the buzzing, humming effect. 

Have I heard this somewhere else?

Definitely. Artists of all kinds have sampled and referenced it over the years. It’s appeared in the computer game Tetris, in a Bob Dylan track, and it even appeared in the pilot episode of The Muppets. 

Do say… “Rimsky-Korsakov’s composition really is a stunning piece of violin virtuosity. Doesn’t it just lift the soul?”

Don’t say… “Oh. LOVE a bit of Rip Your Corsets Off. Pass the fiddle, I can play a passable version myself, I reckon.”

The beautiful bumblebee picture above was used on our subscriptions page this month, which you can find out more about by clicking the subscription link below. .
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Why collecting is self caring

Thought yoga and meditation were the way to happiness, health and enlightenment? You might find your collection of Cornishware or coins is just as effective

Collecting often gets a bad name psychologically, with many believing that people collect in order to fill a hole that is missing in their lives, perhaps things they weren’t able to have as a child, or were unable to afford previously. There’s also a school of thought that collecting is something built deep within us, as a way of displaying to potential mates all our many and glorious possessions. And don’t ask Freud about his theory on collecting, unless you have a strong stomach. 

But psychologists now believe that there may be many positive benefits to collecting. And we’ve collected a few of them here:

Collecting can make you happy
Hunting for something and finding it, whether it’s a rare stamp, part of a coffee set, or a teddy bear, gives us a sense of joy. And having something new and beautiful in our homes is always a pleasure. We tend to collect things we love so having those things around us increases our happiness. 

Collecting can create community
Whether you’re attending conferences and collectors’ fairs in person or simply talking to others online about your collection, a collection can give you a link to others with the same passion and perhaps even create new friendships. It also gives us a sense of belonging to something bigger than ourselves.

Collecting can reduce anxiety
Spending time absorbed in any activity, such as arranging your collection or searching out new finds is a stress reducer. It allows you to escape from everyday life and focus completely on something else. 

Collecting allows us to be childlike
Children tend to be more natural collectors than adults, and peak ‘collector’ age is about 10. It’s something we tend to do more when we have lots of time on our hands, so children, people who have retired and, let’s face it, quite a lot of us in lockdown, are bigger collectors, and it’s lovely to rediscover that pleasure and pride we took in collections as children; like stepping back to a simpler time. 

Collecting improves our knowledge and brain function
As well as the obvious increase in knowledge about your subject area, being a collector helps with memory function and brain power, as you stretch your grey cells, remembering facts, dates and where you put that Penny Black...

You can meet more collectors in this month’s My Place pages which feature some beautiful collections from Instagram. such as the one by Nicky Guymer @somedaystuidio.co.uk pictured above.

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Life lessons | from Adrian Mole

We can learn all sorts of life lessons from a peek at the pages of someone’s diary (particularly those of teenaged intellectuals, of course). 

Stuck at a crossroads in life, or struggling with a moral conundrum? Look no further than the diaries of our favourite young Intellectual. Adrian Mole, who always has words of wisdom, whether you’re struggling with a friend who has become a punk or a lack of correspondence from Malcolm Muggeridge. 

When simple pleasures present themselves, make the most of them and store them away in your memory to cheer you another time. 

“At four o’clock I had one of those rare moments of happiness that I will remember all my life. I was sitting in front of Grandma’s electric coal fire eating dripping toast and reading the News of the World. There was a good play on Radio Four about torturing in concentration camps. Grandma was asleep and the dog was being quiet. All at once I felt this dead good feeling.”

Living an authentic life is important, but sometimes warmth and comfort are more vital still.

“Nigel is a punk at weekends. His mother lets him be one providing he wears a string vest under his bondage T-shirt.”

Looking after your body will improve energy levels but so much of it is about taking good care of your wellbeing, too. 

“My skin is dead good. I think it must be a combination of being in love, and Lucozade.”

Home is where the heart is but often it pays to expand one’s horizons if adventure is what you want. Just be sure it is what you want. 

“I have never seen a dead body or a female nipple. This is what comes from living in a cul de sac.”

To have a real chance at achieving your dreams, you should plot a route backwards from where you want to be to where you are now. And play to your strengths.

“Had a long talk with Mr Vann the Careers teacher today. He said that if I want to be a vet I will have to do Physics, Chemistry and Biology for O level. He said that Art, Woodwork and Domestic Science won’t do much good. I am at the Crossroads in my life. The wrong decision now could result in a tragic loss to the veterinary world.”

Don’t waste your time on things you think you should like; life is short and there are many things out there that will give your pleasure. 

“I think Jane Austen should write something a bit more modern.”

Only give for the joy of giving, rather than the prospect of receiving thanks.

“I remembered my resolution about helping the poor and ignorant today, so I took some of my old Beano annuals to a quite poor family who have moved into the next street. I know they are poor because they have only got a black and white telly. A boy answered the door. I explained why I had come. He looked at the annuals and said, ‘I’ve read ’em,’ and slammed the door in my face. So much for helping the poor!”

Remember that ‘there but for the grace of God… before criticising others’

“My grandma let the dog out of the coal shed. She said my mother was cruel to lock it up. The dog was sick on the kitchen floor. My grandma locked it up again.”

We’re all allowed to have off days, so don’t be hard on yourself. Especially if you are extraordinary. 

 “I still haven’t heard from Malcolm Muggeridge. Perhaps he is in a bad mood. Intellectuals like him and me often have bad moods. Ordinary people don’t understand us and say we are sulking, but we’re not.”

Whatever the situation, your grandmother was probably right about it. 

“Grandma rang and said that it was all around the Evergreens that I was ‘keeping bad company’. She made me go round for tea.”

We were inspired to turn to Mole after reading our feature Dear Diary, about great diarists in our February issue, which is on sale now.

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Project | Uncover the History of your Home

If you’ve ever thought about tracing your family tree, you might like to research the history of your home

Whether you live in a mediaeval pile or are the first owners of your new build, there’s plenty of detective work to be done finding out about previous owners or the history of the land your home is built on. In our January issue, house historian Melanie Backe-Hansen has written about the joy of getting to know your home’s heritage and how to get started.

If you’re inspired but unable to get out much at the moment, here are a few things you can do online to make a start on your research. You can read the whole feature on page 100 of the January issue, in shops and available from our online store now.

Maps
Start with the historic Ordnance Survey maps online, which were produced from the 1860s and then periodically through to the late 20th century. A wide selection for England, Scotland, and Wales can be viewed at the National Library of Scotland (maps.nls.uk).

Local history
Find out about the development of the area over time or even provide clues as to why and when your house was built. Start with British History Online (british-history.ac.uk).

1939 Register
A census taken in the first month of the Second World War providing valuable details of residents. Available on subscription sites ancestry.co.uk and findmypast.co.uk.

Census (1841-1911)
Taken every ten years, they record all those resident in the house on census night, with details of family relationships, occupations, and ages. Also found on findmypast. co.uk and ancestry.co.uk.

Newspapers
Search for your house, former occupants, plus events, through historic newspapers. An increasing amount of information can be unearthed by searching britishnewspaperarchive.co.uk.

Land Registry
This department is responsible for registering the ownership of property in England and Wales. A title register can provide details of recent ownership and, in some cases, historic details going back decades. Go to the official website at gov.uk/government/ organisations/land-registry.

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January | a could-do list

We hope you might find some inspiration in our January ‘snug’ could-do list.

Here at The Simple Things we don’t believe in ‘to-do lists’ and all their associated pressures. But we are very much in favour of could-do lists… ideas for things we might see, do, experience or make. Much of the joy of them is simply in the anticipation. It doesn’t matter if you do them or not. The act of creating a list and mulling it over is pleasurable in itself.

And there’s never a better time thatn January to make your own could-do list, with a new month, a new year and a metaphorical blank page in front of you. Borrow some ideas from ours, make your own, or just read and enjoy. And share yours with us below if you’d like. What could you do this January ?

Wishing you a very snug and hopeful 2021, from all of us at The Simple Things.

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Think | Bookshelf psychology

Photograph courtesy of @finepreserversbooks

Looking through someone’s books can tell you so much about them, but the way in which you organise those books may say as much about you as the books themselves. Which of these bookshelf styles is yours and what does it tell passing visitors about you?

The Colour Co-ordinator

Colour co-ordinated bookshelves speak of someone who regards their books as part of their decor. Colour Co-ordinators have occasionally been derided by bookshelf psychologists and accused of caring more about the look of their books than what’s inside them. But often it’s more about making books part of your home and displaying them almost as art, rather than simply something to be shelved. 

The Alphabetical Arranger

If it’s good enough for bookshops, it’s good enough for us. The big question is: do you go full alphabeticisation or do you organise alphabetically, within genre? And do you alphabetise your genres, too, from Adventure down to Young Adult, or is that overkill? Either way, Alphabetical Arrangers tend to be neat and tidy types who like a simple system that enables them to lay their hands on what they want immediately. 

The Genre Grouper

Organising your books by type is probably the purist’s way, being closest to the Dewey Decimal system. It makes sense, after all, to have all your crime novels together, biographies nestling side by side and nature writing cosying up in the same corner. Those who organise by genre tend to be wide readers (those of us who only read chick lit clearly have no need of such methods) and they tend to be really thoughtful and scientifically minded. If you’re the sort of person who sees the inherent evil in having Jeffrey Archer cuddling up to Aristophanes you might well be a Genre Grouper. If you can’t see the inherent evil in that, you might want to take a good hard look at yourself.

The Chronological Curator

There are two methods of organising your books chronologically. One is to shelve by date of publication, so Greek myths at one end, the latest Val McDermid at the other. The other is to shelve by date you bought them. Now, bear with us, because this isn’t as mad as it sounds. If you’re someone who easily forgets author names or book titles, you might find you can more easily remember that you read a book on a certain holiday back in 2011, or that someone bought you a particular book for Christmas last year. It makes a kind of logical sense in a way. Either way, Chronological Curators are usually mathematical, ordered types. They think in a linear way but aren’t without romance where books are concerned, after all, there’s something lovely about seeing the whole of your book collection laid out like a timeline - of either literary history or your own personal reading history. 

The Slapdash Stacker

Eschewing organisation in favour or a more ‘organic’ way of storing books, these types stack their books both vertically and horizontally, creating a higgeldy piggeldy but joyous library. You might assume a Slapdash Stacker is not a lover of books but often this method of book storage is used by real reading fanatics, who find that other methods are simply too restrictive. If a tall hardback doesn’t fit where it should on its genre shelf, where does one put it? And if your ‘H’ shelves are packed but you’ve bought a new Joanne Harris, you’ll have to get rid of a Mark Haddon, which might be very upsetting. Whereas if you’re a Slapdash Stacker, there’s always room for one more book… somewhere… 

The Pages Out Proponent

If you’ve not come across this phenomenon, you might want to sit down for this one. Suddenly fashionable is storing your books with the spines turned in so that only pages face outwards, giving a uniform look… but meaning you can’t actually see any of the titles. Defendants of this method claim that actually in centuries gone by, titles were often printed on the side of the cut pages rather than on the spine, so it makes a kind of sense. We don’t like to be prescriptive but this is patently nonsense. We are not in the 16th century and people who stack their books this way are perverse. <gavel>

If you love looking at other people’s bookshelves as much as we do, don’t miss our My Place feature in our January issue, in which we feature some of the most beautiful bookshelves we’ve seen, such as this one, pictured above by Maureen of @finepreserversbooks.

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Seeking out | Happy news

Good news is all around us, if you just know where to look

In our November issue we met Emily Coxhead (pictured), founder of The Happy Newspaper, along with several other inspirational ‘shiny, happy people’ whose job it is to put a smile on your face. 

With the world as it is, there’s never been a better time to look for good news, so we’ve collated a list of a few places you can go to find it. 

1. The Happy Newspaper

As a self-described ‘platform to share positive news and wonderful people, there’s lots to make you smile here. Visit The Happy Newspaper to buy online or find your nearest stockist. They even sell ‘happy confectionery’ should you feel in need of a really strong dose of happy. 

2. Positive News

A magazine and a movement that aims to change the world for the good. It is published in print every quarter and daily online and you can buy a copy through our own online shop, picsandink.com. Find our more at Positive News. 

3. The Good News Network

A US-based website with good news, lifestyle and business stories to cheer your day. The Good News Network. They also publish the GNN Podcast, which is a happy treat for your ears. 

4. BBC Uplifting Stories

Even Auntie is getting in on the happy news act now, with a special section on BBC News’s website for stories to uplift. Find them at the BBC website and search uplifting news. .

5. Squirrel News

Why squirrels, you ask? Well why not, we say. But also, they pick only the most nourishing nuts to store away, not the ones that will do them no good. And that’s what Squirrel News, based in Berlin, does too. Visit them here: squirrel-news.net. 

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Potted Histories | The Kilner Jar

Kilner jars are a staple of the nation’s larders. We thought we’d lift the lid on their history

The Kilner company was originally established as a bottle manufacturer, with the Kilner Glassworks being founded by John Kilner in 1842 in Thornhill Lees, West Yorkshire, making bottles and apothecary items. The company passed to Kilner’s four sons on his death and continued to be hugely successful, even accepting an award at The Great Exhibition in 1862 for innovation in glassmaking. 

But in 1871 the company was taken to court over the coal smoke that billowed from its chimneys, polluting the neighbouring land. The judge ruled that ‘no man has the right to interfere with the supply of clean air.’ The factory was forced to close temporarily in order to convert to gas furnaces but managed to get back on its feet, even investing in new mechanisation as the end of the century loomed.

It wasn’t until 1900 that Kilner produced its first jar with its famous patented vacuum seal, still recognisable to bottler and preservers today. But in the first decades of the 20th century, competition in the industry saw Kilner suffer and eventually in 1937 the company went bankrupt and the patents and were sold to United Glass Bottle Manufacturers. 

Despite the business leaving the hands of the Kilner family, the jar itself went from strength to strength. In the 1960s the first Kilner jars with metal discs and screw bands were introduced and in the 1970s replaced with a less attractive but very practical plastic screw band. 

In 2000 the Rayware Group bought the patent, design and trademark for the original Kilner jar and today the range includes everything from infusion jars to make-and-take Kilners for picnics, and specially designed tops for every job from butter-churning to spiralizing. 

So next time you’re bottling tomatoes or packing up your salad lunch, consider that you’re screwing the lid onto a Victorian miracle and 120 years of glassmaking history.

In our October issue, we’ve curated a few pages of photographs of lovely larders, including the one above by @designermumetc.

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Top ten National Trust ghosts

Spooks, spirits and scones: the National Trust boasts a cast of hundreds of ghosts

In our September issue, we’ve taken a look at national treasure, The National Trust, in its 125th year, and delved into some of the houses’ lesser known residents. So we thought we should also celebrate some of the properties’ former residents who are still hanging around the hallowed halls and creepy corridors of NT properties. Here are our top ten favourite National Trust Ghosts:

1 The Roman Soldiers at Treasurer’s House

A legion of weary soldiers has been spotted a couple of times in the cellars at Treasurer’s House in York, the most interesting being in 1953 when a chap installing boilers in the cellar saw a line of filthy, weary soldiers emerge from the wall. They wore green tunics and had round shields - both facts were dismissed as incorrect at the time - these soldiers were thought to wear red and have rectangular shields. And they were visible only from the knees up. Later, it was discovered that in fact there was a legion based here who used round shields and wore green. Later still, an old Roman road was discovered about 18 inches below the cellar floor. The soldiers had been walking on the original road. 

2 Francis Drake, Buckland Abbey

One of the Trust’s more famous residents who has outstayed his welcome is Sir Francis Drake who settled at Buckland Abbey in Devon when his days on the Golden Hind were over. His ghost is said to ride across Dartmoor in a black coach, driven by headless horses. 

3 Dripping Man, Scotney Castle

A dripping wet man is said to haunt Scotney Castle in Kent, allegedly a Revenue Officer, murdered by smugglers and thrown into the moat, who returns regularly, seeking revenge on his assailant. 

4 St Cuthbert, Lindisfarne

Holy Island in Northumberland provided sanctuary for St Cuthbert and the monk’s spirit is said to still wander near the priory to this day when the moon is full and the tide is high. 

5 Anne Boleyn, Blickling Hall

Blickling Hall in Norfolk is home to several spirit squatters but the most famous of them must be Anne Boleyn. Blickling is built on her birthplace and it’s said that every year on May 19th, the anniversary of her execution, her ghost, holding her head in her own lap, is driven by ghostly coach up to the door of Blickling Hall by a headless coachman. As it nears the entrance, the coach vanishes.  

6 Seven-foot skeleton, Dunster Castle

A proper, spooky, rattler of chains, this one… Dogs refuse to enter the room under the Gatehouse at Dunster in Somerset, where a giant skeleton was found manacled to several others. 

7 Mr Windham the book lover, Felbrigg Hall

Bookworm William Windham loved books so much he risked his life to save the library of a friend when it caught fire and died of his injuries a short while later. But staff at his former home, Felbrigg Hall in Norfolk, often report seeing him sitting in a chair or table in the library, catching up on his reading. Apparently he only visits when a certain combination of books are left on the library table. 

8 The floorboard-tampering poltergeist, Sizergh

A spirited poltergeist is said to create ‘happenings’ at Sizergh in Cumbria. Several times it has torn floorboards from the floor and flung them about the place; a sort of spirited 60-minute Makeover, if you will.

9 The White Lady, Washington Old Hall

Washington is home to many a ghost (there’s also a grey lady and a crying child) but the white lady wanders the corridors, wringing her hands. It’s said the smell of lavender pervades the place, too. We conclude that she can only be rubbing in some calming hand lotion. 

10 Tutting gent, Penrhyn Castle

At Penryhn Castle, pictured above, a volunteer encountered a short gentleman in a brown suit, who entered the room, tutted, raised his eyebrows and then disappeared around the corner and vanished completely. Suggestions were that it might be the third Earl of Penrhyn, unimpressed with the new layout of his furniture. 

If you’d like to go National Trust ghost-hunting near you, visit the NT’s page of their most haunted houses. Read our feature on the National Trust in the September issue starting on p70.

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Five fictional (and factual) attics

We’re all predisposed to love an attic aren’t we? The chance of finding a long lost treasure, the secrecy of a huge room, hidden at the top of a house, the thrilling idea that it could be a private space just for us? 

It’s little wonder they feature in so many books, both fiction and factual. The attic is a metaphor for the brain - a space right at the top of the house, where all manner of creative and imaginative happenings might occur, a place where memories are stored, and made. How many writers scribbled in garrets, locked away in a dusty loft, after all? You don’t hear of many writers furiously penning novels in sparkling open-plan kitchens, do you? They’re a space to get away, feel ‘above’ mere mortals bumbling about in living rooms and bedrooms. Here we celebrate five literary attics: 

1. Thornfield Hall’s attic in Jane Eyre

The first Mrs Rochester is the inhabitant of the attic in Charlotte Bronte’s best-known novel. Jane hears various crashes, moans and the like and it transpires that the source of them all is Bertha Rochester, one-time beauty and now ‘demon’ in the attic who starts fires, bites visitors and chews up Jane’s wedding veil. Since we know Rochester is about to marry Jane bigamously, frankly we’re with the first Mrs R on this one and think the veil-shredding (and probably some of the biting) is fair enough. (Also, Mr Rochester is pretty irritating. We might have bitten him too.) Poor Mrs R jumps to her death during a fire at Thornfield but holds a special place in our hearts as the first and our favourite ‘mad woman in the attic’. 

2. Jo March’s attic in Little Women

Like many women writing in attics, Jo is a bit of a bluestocking, who wished to be a boy and found her skirts cumbersome. She writes her way out of her femininity, wearing a ‘scribbling suit’ of a black pinafore to soak up the ink and a feathered cap, like a master craftsman, and into a comfortable inhabitation of confident womanhood. Again, the attic is both an escape and a sign of Jo’s superior intellect. And we loved her for her inky hands and the rats that nibbled her pencils. 

3. Anne Frank’s attic in the secret annex

Never could an attic be more thrilling than the real attic in Amsterdam in which Anne Frank enjoyed some fresh air, away from the stuffiness of the rest of the annex each morning. Anne wrote her famous diary in the secret annex in which she was hiding and the rat-infested attic, which was mostly used for storage was her escape, with one little window that it was possible to look out of without fear of being seen. 

4. The attic in Flowers in the Attic

Much though we love a creepy Gothic tale in autumn, we might not linger too long on this very disturbing tale by VC Andrews of incest and abuse that haunted many of our teenaged years. Suffice to say, the attic here holds many a secret and spawns many more secrets of its own. <Shudder> 

5. The attic in The Yellow Wallpaper

It’s the decor that’s the real star of this novel by Charlotte Perkins Gilman. When a young woman is sent to spend a period of rest in a colonial mansion at the turn of the last century, she’s shut up in the old nursery on the top floor of the house. Far from resting her mind, the room itself turns her imagination inside out as she endlessly describes the wallpaper, comes to believe there is a woman trapped inside it and then becomes that woman herself. A beautiful feminist novel that’s deliciously creepy, too. You aren’t sure whether you want to never go upstairs again or disappear to the top of the house forever. 

In our September issue our My Place feature is all about (much less creepy and much more beautiful) attic rooms like this one above by @finlay_fox.  Buy this month's The Simple Things - buy, download or subscribe

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August | a final thought

From Am I Overthinking This by Michelle Rial (Chronicle Books)

We’ve reached the end of our August ‘Promise’ issue. September is winging its way to your shops and doormats as we speak.

We had some hot days in August here at Simple Things Towers. We hope you were lucky enough to get some nice weather (and a few ice creams ), too! Here’s an illustration from our August back cover to raise an end-of-summer smile.

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Cake facts | Lamingtons

Lamingtons are the sort of cake we think we should have in the house more often. If you haven’t come across one before, they’re cuboid sponge cakes dipped in chocolate sauce and then rolled in desiccated coconut. 

Another classic Australian gem no one should miss out on is the beautifully illustrated children’s book Possum Magic by Mem Fox. Every Australian child since it was published in 1983 has a much-loved copy of this tale of a young Possum called Hush and her Grandma who has turned Hush invisible, using bush magic, to hide her from snakes. Together they travel around Australia sampling national dishes to find the dish that will make Hush visible again, and the final cure is a lamington. We don’t usually do spoilers, but here’s the very end of the book so you can appreciate the importance of Lamingtons, too. 

In Hobart, late one night, in the kitchens of the casino, they saw a lamington on a plate. Hush closed her eyes and nibbled. Grandma Poss held her breath - and waited.

"It's worked! It's worked!" she cried. And she was right. Hush could be seen from head to tail. Grandma Poss hugged Hush, and they both danced "Here We Go Round the Lamington Plate" till early in the morning.

So from that time onwards, Hush was visible. But once a year, on her birthday, she and Grandma Poss ate a Vegemite sandwich, a piece of pavlova and half a lamington, just to make sure that Hush stayed visible forever.

And she did.

The photo above is taken from One Tin Bakes: Sweet and Simple Traybakes, Pies, Bars and Buns by Edd Kimber (Kyle Books). You can find the recipe on p27 of our August issue, which is in shops now, or you can buy it direct from us online and have it arrive on your doormat.

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Science lesson | the toast centre of the brain

Some fascinating facts about how your brain smells toast

There’s something strangely evocative about the smell of burnt toast. You can probably remember the last time you suddenly detected it and dashed for the grill. 

But did you know there’s a part of your brain specifically dedicated to smelling burnt toast? 

In 1950, Canadian Dr Wilder Penfield was working on a treatment for cerebral seizures that worked by zapping particular nerve cells with electrical probes. One of his patients was a woman with epilepsy who smelled burnt toast whenever she was about to have a seizure. 

With her sedated but awake, Dr Wilder removed part of her skull and stimulated various parts of the brain until the woman exclaimed “I can smell burnt toast!” He was able to remove this small bit of brain tumour and stop the seizures, and the process, which later became known as the Montreal Procedure would go on to help millions of people with epilepsy.

So next time you burn your breakfast, spare a thought for Dr Wilder Penfield and raise a crust to him. 

In our August issue, we’re celebrating more impressive work with toast, looking at some of the ‘toast art’ by Manami Sasaki (@sasamana1204), such as the one above. You can read more on p16. The August issue is in shops now, or you can buy it from our online store.  Buy this month's The Simple Things - buy, download or subscribe

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Reading | Flash Fiction

If you like a short story, you might enjoy these ‘flash fiction’ tales

We’re big fans of flash fiction – especially, if you see our feature in our August issue, when you’re struggling to read right now. 

Back in 2018, we asked you to write a 100-word flash fiction story on the theme of ‘summer’. And you did not disappoint. We’ve reprinted some of our favourites below. And, should you feel inspired, we’ve a new flash fiction competition with Seasalt launching in our September issue – watch this space.  

The five-second flight by Kirsty Boswell 

“Go long!” he yelled. So long I went. As I meandered around strewn towels, flicking sand up off my feet with every stride, I turned my head to see him release with the force of an Olympic discus thrower. It soared through the air, a bright blue UFO. Over the crimson crowns of balding dads waiting for beeps to reveal hidden treasure. It floated above the boy burrowing a magnificent crater, searching for the middle of the earth. It swooped over the baby enjoying a mouthful of sand, and crashed straight in to Mum’s 99. And then we ran. 

Before the flood by Agnes Halvorssen 

 Summer has gone off the rails. Doors slam and the hot sun shakes in the sky, the clouds pull close and raise their arms. She does not blow them away to reveal a clear blue, but pulls them nearer. There are rumours that she has been spending time with Winter. She comes back cold to the touch, icicles hiding in her golden locks, the tip of her nose red and damp. And nowadays Winter has a wild faraway look in his eyes, and pools of water gathering around his boots. 

Don’t look now by Gemma Smith 

‘Beware,’ shrieked the sign on the wall, ‘ignore at your peril.’ Eyes darting wildly, I make a bid for safety, clutching my prize to my chest as if it might evade me at the first opportunity. Lulled by its gentle rhythm, the ocean pulls me to it; the sun’s glow enveloping me as I step out from the dark cobbled streets, trance-like, into the open harbour. Feverishly unwrapping the pristine white paper, I marvel at the molten gold within, and then…GONE. Circling like a feathered storm in a squawking flurry of teacups, my aerial pursuers strike. Bloody seagulls. Bloody toastie. 

Hanami by Christopher P Davis 

They were midway through lemon-scented drinks when a wisteria flower descended feather-lightly into his glass and stirred the bittersweet memory of the previous summer. The two of them had hired bikes at dawn and rode across Tokyo, eventually finding their way to Yoyogi Park, where they spent the afternoon beneath purple trees, watching the dancers and talking, while he stroked her hazel-brown hair. A year had passed since then and he still wondered whether they had made the right decision. “What are you thinking about?” his date asked, noticing his faraway gaze, and tucking a blonde lock behind her ear. 

Summer wardrobe by Kate Life 

The seasonal shift sent her packing. Carefully she exchanged cashmere and tweed for cottons in shades of citrus zest and ice-cream scoops. Folding corduroy, she thought of Tom. He was the scent of wood-smoke, a trudge through leaves, crumble, and chilled fingers that had chivalrously scraped her windscreen clear. She transported him to the world of summer: petrol fumes heavy in sluggish air, the pop of fizz, and songs that would grate when autumn came. “Oh well,” she thought, shoving the last zippered package into the depths of the bed, “I can mothball him, till October at least.” 

Daisy days by Hannah Pank 

The pleasantly warm air of summer has finally tempted my head above the soil, a crown of pure, brilliant white petals encircling my golden yolk of a centre. A young girl is dancing upon the ground beside me, bare feet barely indenting the warm grass beneath. She stumbles over in a fit of laughter, giggles erupting from dimpled cheeks. Chubby fingers clumsily begin to interlock the bodies of my sisters, weaving them into a crown. Then I am chosen to adorn the head of the girl of my dreams. Together we dance toward the sunset. 

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Interesting things | secret signs on houses

Rainbows are gracing many of our windows right now as a symbol of hope but they weren’t the first symbol to have been displayed on our windows and doors as a sign of solidarity, welcome or more 

From the Icthus ‘fish’ symbol to let passers-by know you were a Christian, to a European flag to let them know you voted Remain, we’re all quite keen on displaying signs on the outside of our homes as messages to others. At Halloween, a pumpkin in the window is a sign trick-or-treaters are welcome, at Christmas a wreath goes out to welcome in both neighbours and the season. 

Here are a few more secret signs that people have displayed to send a clandestine (or not so clandestine) message to others over the years, that you might not know about. 

Candles

When practising the Catholic faith was outlawed under British repression in Ireland, priests went underground, conducting masses in secret. Catholics would leave a candle burning in their window and the door unlocked to let priests know they could sneak in for a quick bit of clandestine Catholicism. When the British queried the practice they were told it was to represent the pure and open of heart welcoming Our Lady and the Christ child into their homes. Sneaky!

Secret paintings

In 18th Century South Africa, the Ndebele people were at war with the neighbouring Boers. They suffered great losses and terrible treatment at the hands of the Boers and began to express their grief and anger with symbols painted on their houses to communicate with other Ndebele groups. The Boer farmers thought it was simply cultural art so allowed it to continue. 

Blood on the doorposts (or something slightly less frightening if you prefer)

In the story of the Passover, Moses tells the enslaved Israelites to paint their doorposts with the blood of a lamb they have sacrificed. When the angel of death passes over their houses, those with blood were ‘passed over’ and the Israelites remain safe, while the firstborn son of every Egyptian home died. Some Jews still mark this, the beginning of their safe passage out of Egypt, with a decorative piece of red cloth over the door as they celebrate Passover each year., cloth being a little less of a terror to get off paintwork than lamb’s blood.

Horseshoes

A message to Old Nick himself to warn him off. The story goes that St Dunstan (patron saint of blacksmiths) was visited by the devil who demanded a horseshoe for one of his cloven hooves. St Dunstan nailed a red hot horseshoe to his hoof and said he would only remove it if the devil promised to respect the horseshoe and never again visit any home with one displayed. (Sadly, this doesn’t work for political canvassers, junk mail and the like.)

Pampas grass in the front garden

Said to be a sign that the occupants are, ahem, ‘swingers’ looking for willing participants, sales of the sharp-leafed plant have apparently plummeted in recent years as home-owners have cottoned on that they may be attracting unwanted attention.

Rude graffiti

In ancient Rome, phalluses were carved everywhere but were often seen on doors and around windows as a symbol of protection or good fortune (and you thought horse shoes were weird). Rather charmingly, tiny phalluses were also used like arrows, pointing men in the direction of the nearest brothel. We’d say ‘when in Rome’ but perhaps best NOT to go carving any willies on windows if you’re visiting.

Hobo emojis

Around the turn of the 20th century in America, hobos (men travelling from place to place looking for work and hitching illegal rides on freight trains) would leave little hieroglyph style pictures all over the place, but often on doors, to give other hobos useful information such as where alcohol could be found, where good places were to get a train and where law-makers lived. A square and a circle each with a dot in meant ‘an ill-tempered man lives here’, a simple cat denoted ‘a kind lady lives here’. How reliable this all is, is uncertain - the tales of the hobo symbols were passed down by hobos themselves, who were known for enjoying a tall tale. 

Quilts

Legend has it that on the Underground Railroad in the States (a network of people offering safe houses and passage to slaves escaping from the south) quilts were stitched with secret messages to aid escape and then hung from windows and clothes lines. Escaping slaves would know the house’s owners might help them and the quilts would give them information about where to go next and how to stay safe.

You can read more about rainbows and their history in our June issue, which is on sale now.

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Art tours | virtually Vermeer

We hope you liked the free gift in our April issue, an Old Master for every reader. Vermeer’s The Milk Maid hangs in the Rijksmuseum in Amsterdam and is one of the museum’s biggest attractions. 

In these strange times, however, when we can’t just hop on a plane or train, art has so much to offer us from our own homes. In our April issue, art historian Susie Hodge, author of The Art Puzzle Book (White Lion) talks us through appreciating art slowly. We hope you’ll find ten minutes to spend with your own personal Vermeer at some point, getting to know it better before you hang it on a wall or perch it on a mantel somewhere.

And if you’re inspired to spend more time with art from home, you might like to visit a Vermeer virtually, or an O’Keefe online, or perhaps even a Van Gogh on Google. 

You can visit the Rijksmuseum online where you can choose to explore particular artists, or browse by category, from still lifes and portraits to biblical scenes and landscapes, getting up close enough to see every brushstroke. Don’t forget to drop in on The Milkmaid. 

Fancy a meander among the Monets? Pop down to the Musee d’Orsay and have a virtual wander through this beautiful building on the banks of the Seine, in the former Orsay Railway Station.

Or, if you like a more hi-tech approach, nip into the Met in New York, and try out the Met 360 Project, a series of six videos filmed to allow you to view it in 360 degrees. If you view it on your phone you can simply raise your phone to look up to the ceiling or drop it downwards to see what’s beneath you. You can stand in the galleries alone for an ‘after hours’ view or soar above the gallery’s cloisters for a bird’s eye view.

Sometimes you just need to look at something from a different perspective.

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Oranges and lemons (and more things the bells said)

An explanation of a rather confusing nursery rhyme

In our January issue, we have a zesty, juicy collection of recipes by Lia Leendertz all using oranges and lemons (and other citrus fruits too). And it got us wondering, why do the bells of St Clements say ‘oranges and lemons’? And in fact, what on earth were all those other bells in the nursery rhyme on about, too? Well, we found out, and we’ll tell you. 

What did the bells of St Clements say?

“Oranges and lemons.”

Why?

St Clement Danes church is on The Strand. The oranges and lemons refer to the fruits that would have been unloaded on the wharves nearby. 

What did the bells of St Martin’s say?

“You owe me five farthings”

Why?

Presumably because not much else rhymes with ‘Martin’s’, but the farthings also apparently refer to the money lenders who worked near St Martin’s in Orgar church just off Cannon Street. 

What did the bells of Old Bailey ask?

“When will you pay me?”

Why?

Well, actually, they didn’t at all. This is a complex one. The Old Bailey of course has no bell at all, being a court rather than a church. The bells referred to are thought to belong to the church of St Sepulchre Without Newgate and the bell of Newgate Prison, located opposite. Newgate would have housed debtors who would then have been tried at The Old Bailey, hence ‘when will you pay me?’

What did the bells of Shoreditch reply?

“When I grow rich?”

Why?

This one’s a bit sarcastic. The bells belong to St Leonard’s church in Hackney, an area that at the time was particularly poor and known for being home to Shakespearean actors, who were definitely not known for their wealth. No one within sound of St Leonard’s would have had much hope of ever growing rich.

What did the bells of Stepney ask?

“When will that be?”

Why?

St Dunstan’s church in Stepney High Street was known as ‘the church of the seas’ as many sailors are buried here. ‘When will that be’ is thought to refer to the wives of the sailors who might have to wait years for them to return with their wages. 

What did the great bell of Bow boom?

“I do not know”

Why?

We don’t know either. What we do know is that the great bell of Box probably refers not to Bow Church but to the bells of Mary-le-Box in Cheapside. 

As for the candle to light you to bed and the chopper to chop off your head, the candle is said to refer to the Bellman of St Sepulchre who would visit condemned prisoners at midnight, by candlelight to inform them of their fate. The choppers are exactly what you think. Ouch.

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History | women on walls

Celebrating some of the women who have featured on London’s blue plaques

Having a blue plaque (or any other colour plaque) in your local area is a bit exciting, isn’t it? Whether you’ve got a little-known local philanthropist or a world-famous philosopher, it’s quite a thrill to think of that person coming and going from that very property on that very street all those years ago. 

Since 2016, English Heritage, which runs London’s Blue Plaque scheme, has been campaigning to encourage more nominations for blue plaques representing women. Just 14% of blue plaques currently represent females, and English Heritage wants that to change. In the last year, half of the blue plaques that have been put have been for women, but still only a third of the nominations are for them. You can help change that by making a nomination yourself. Here’s how to do it.

In the meantime, here are five fascinating females who have been commemorated with plaques all over the country through various schemes to inspire you to make a nomination of your own. 

Violette Szabo

Listen very carefully, we shall say this only once… Intriguingly commemorated with the words ‘Secret agent lived here – she gave her life for the French Resistance’ Szabo was a spy in the second world war who was tortured and executed by the Nazis. 

Marie Stopes

Stopes has a plaque in Upper Norwood, London as a ‘promoter of sex education and birth control’. Less glamorous than some of the artists and writers commemorated perhaps, but far more life-changing for us women of today. 

Mary Hughes

Charmingly listed as ‘Friend of all in Need’ on the side of 71A Vallance Road, east London, Mary Hughes was a social worker who acquired the pub The Earl Grey at Vallance Road and turned it into a teetotal refuge for the homeless, The Dewdrop Inn (do drop in). 

Doreen Valiente

Commemorated on the side of a block of council flats in Tyson Place, Brighton you’ll find an unlikely plaque to the ‘mother of modern witchcraft’. Valiente (1922-1999) cast her first spell as a teenager, on a woman she thought was harassing her mother at work. She worked as a translator at Bletchley Park during the Second World War and settled in Brighton later in life as part of the Silver Malkin coven. 

Dolly the Sheep

Commemorated at the Roslin Institute in Edinburgh, where she lived her entire life, dear Dolly was the first cloned sheep and died of lung disease in 2003.

If you’re inspired to take a walk round your neighbourhood appreciating the bits of local history lurking there, don’t miss our feature, Up Town by The Simple Things’ editor, Lisa Sykes, in which we learn to appreciate the towns and villages we grew up in - we’ve even include an Eye Spy spotters’ guide for you!

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Go | Lands of make believe

Festive fictional settings that have made their way onto our travel bucket list

One of the best things about Christmas is getting to revisit the familiar fictional places we associate with the season… From Charles Dickens’ London as we walk in Scrooge’s footsteps, to Nelson Mandela House as Delboy and Rodney prepare to sell their ‘telescopic Christmas trees’. From Mrs Prothero’s garden in Dylan Thomas’s ‘A Child’s Christmas in Wales’ to Kevin McCallister’s suburban Chicago house as he is left ‘Home Alone’.

As we put together our December issue, the staff of The Simple Things wrote about the Christmassy books, films, TV shows, podcasts and more that we love to revisit every year. And we want to know what yours are too. They don’t need to be Christmassy. We’d just love to hear about the fictional place you would visit if you could, from Narnia to Neverland.

To get you in the spirit, Iona Bower, our Editor at large, waxes lyrical below about the Box of Delights and how she loves to revisit Tatchester in the run-up to Christmas each year. You can read the rest of our favourite fictional places in the December issue in our feature ‘Watch with Santa’.

Christmas for me is all about the anticipation. A big part of that is a 1984 children’s TV series. I was six when The Box of Delights (based on John Masefield’s book) first aired, beginning on 19 November and running each week until Christmas Eve. And I try to watch it on those same dates each year. Kay Harker is on his way home for Christmas when he encounters twinkly-eyed Cole Hawlings and his Box of Delights, leading to all sorts of thrilling adventures that children today would scoff at but which left me open-mouthed. All the time, snow falls and carols sing on in the background. The opening titles music is perhaps the most Christmassy thing you will ever hear. Every year when I put on a log fire and hear those strings, I’m six again. When dreams might be real and all that matters is Kay getting to Tatchester Cathedral on Christmas Eve, in time to save the whole festive season.

Do post your favourite fictional destinations, whether festive or no, in the comments below or let us know about them on Facebook or Instagram.

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Pedantry | Christmas carols

From misheard lyrics, to misspelled words to misplaced punctuation, here are a few carols that aren’t quite as they used to be.

Hark! The who?

Originally called ‘Hymn for Christmas Day’, the words by Charles Wesley opened with: ‘Hark how all the Welkin rings’. Wolcen is an old English word meaning ‘sky’ or ‘heavens’ so refer to the heavens ringing. But as time went on, few people knew what a Welkin was. The words we know today: ‘Hark! The herald angels sing’ came about when George Whitefield rewrote the carol in 1754.

Four which birds?

You didn’t imagine it. When you were little it was definitely ‘Four colly birds’ in ‘The Twelve Days of Christmas’. A colly bird is another name for a blackbird (presumably to go with your partridge, French hens and turtle doves). The song was originally published as a rhyme, without music, in 1780. In a 1909 version by Frederic Austin, which set the rhyme to the tune we know today, the colly birds were changed to ‘calling’ birds, or songbirds. Blackbirds are known for their pretty song so it was only really the name that was changed, not the beast itself. The two versions are both still sung but as time goes on we’re hearing more calling birds than colly birds. Make a stand at your next carol concert and bring those colly birds back!

Mysterious merry gentlemen

God rest ye merry gentlemen. Sounds simple enough, doesn’t it? Gentlemen tend to get a bit merry at Christmas. Might do them good to have a bit of a sit down and a night off the sauce?

In fact, the phrase means something more like: ‘Stay mighty, old chaps.’

The song has its roots in the Middle Ages, when ‘merry’ meant ‘mighty’ (think of Robin Hood’s merry men) and ‘rest’ meant ‘stay’. So ‘rest you merry’ means ‘stay strong’.

At some point in the carol’s history a comma also dropped off, concealing the fact that the words don’t mean ‘Stay, merry gentlemen’ but rather ‘God keep you strong, gentlemen’.

We don’t know about you, but we rather need a tipple after all that, too.

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