Days like these
Days filled with fun and friendship, laughter and a bit of art and culture. Good food and drink enjoyed around the table, accompanied by interesting conversation. Days that sparkle with sunshine, spent under a blue sky with just the occasional storybook cloud here and there.
Simple pleasures, much cherished.
We’ve spent the last week with friends, beginning with a couple of days in Lancashire. Twice a year, if we can, we enjoy a couple of days built around the concerts of the Lytham Choral Society, of which our friend Olga is a member. It’s also a great opportunity to meet another dear friend for lunch nearby and on this occasion in particular, to discover how well she’s recovering from a fall earlier in the year.
Though it’s the kind of weekend we’ve enjoyed quite a few times over the years, something like the surprising conclusion to our Antarctic trip and my subsequent recovery makes these times all the more special. We realise that we can’t take things for granted - not that we do, really - but a reminder from time to time does no harm, for sure. As I packed my bag for the trip, I realised that this was the first time we’d been away from home since we returned from Uruguay and I replenished toothpaste and other toiletries thinking, “the last time I used this…”
As we drove through the woods on our way to the motorway, it was lovely to see Spring around us, with the trees shooting fresh green leaves and the hedgerows bursting with blossom.
I continued with my knitting, wondering just how many trips these socks have been on? Certainly more than one…but I had every intention of finishing them before we arrived back home this time!
Boo. As we neared our destination, the rain started. Hopefully, just an April shower?
I was feeling optimistic as we arrived, having finished both socks as the toe. I’d sort those out in no time in the next couple of days.
The concert was great, our friend is making a great recovery from her fall and we got off to a cracking start!
The following day, we were out exploring a newly renovated museum in the nearby city of Preston. It’s a quite a few years since we’d been there but fortunately our friends knew their way around and the best spot to park the car: not that it appeared to be very salubrious.
I was amused by the street name, which sounded just like a what3words address!
Surprisingly, we were very close indeed to the museum/gallery, The Harris. Our friends had been to the opening and were eager to share this wonderful place with us.
This purpose built museum has been redesigned to be a place for everyone to enjoy, without losing the primary function of exhibiting fine examples of local art and history. From the minute we stepped inside we were captivated.
I took so many photographs, it’s tricky to decide what to leave out. The building is square, with a central atrium and circular feature through which hangs a freely moving pendulum and currently, a woven artwork celebrating the local textile industry. The Harris website has so many excellent photographs of the whole collection, I won’t even try to represent it here, but simply share one or two thoughts.
I especially liked how local communities had chosen their favourite pieces for exhibition, shown with their reasoning for their choice. Many museums have far more treasure than they have space to show and this was a great means of involving local people whilst at the same time allowing breathing space in the exhibition rooms.
Fewer exhibits also mean we have more time to view those on show. These two paintings were chosen by the people of HMP Preston (the local prison) and their explanation outlined the value they placed on nature and light in their lives.
Throughout the art galleries were places for visitors to stop and reflect on what they see. Here were a few art materials and some paper to respond creatively to the prompts on a few cubes there alongside. Gallery staff were nearby offering encouragement and sharing their enthusiasm as well.
Two large rooms were filled with art of all kinds, representing the 2026 Harris Open
I was delighted to see some excellent examples of craft here too. All too often, “craft” is seen as the poor relation to “art” but here, in a city known for craftsmanship and manufacturing, there were some fine creations on show.
A more traditional approach had been taken to tell the story of the city and I spent quite some time learning about brushmaking, the Preston Guilds and most of all, the background of the cotton trade. This had been the primary source of income in the area and the name Horrockses was familiar to me from smart cotton dresses worn by women of my mother’s generation. Neither she nor m-i-l Bettine wore them however, because they both made their own!
It was in this room, however, where I found the answer to a question we’d asked yesterday, having driven along Edith Rigby Way. Who was/is Edith Rigby?
Quite a woman, eh?
Having begun on the top floor of the building, we’d now worked our way down to the ground floor again. The whole time, I’d admired the way in which visitors had been invited to consider the exhibits in new and interesting ways and to involve themselves in thinking about the items on show.
This extended to the family room, where I am sure Arthur would have had a wonderful time!
A remarkable place with so many fascinating things to prompt thoughts and discussion. Last but not least, a conversation with one of the staff about the finely woven exhibit which hung through all floors, titled Transformation. Created by a local artist and woven from rayon, a product developed by the successor to the Horrockses cotton industry, Courtaulds. I had imagined that such a site-specific artwork would become a permanent feature here but the link above explains that it will be removed during the next few months. I shall be very interested to see what replaces it!
