National Museum of Rural Life

Another guest blog from the pen of my Mummy....

Farming 1950s style

Last weekend, bright blue January skies enticed us out for the day to the National Museum of Rural Life in East Kilbride.  For the uninitiated, it is sort of a cross between a farm visit and a museum - a sort of "ye olde rural pig" if you like.  The sizeable modern  purpose-built building at the entrance, houses some rather dryly displayed social commentary, and what appear to be shedloads of old farm machinery, which to me at least, all looks vaguely similar.  It is, I'm afraid, difficult to see what they were aiming for, and so my recommendation, if you really want a sense of what it was like to live in rural Scotland in the past, is to head north to the Highland Folk Museum at Newton.  However, this place is saved for me, by it centre-piece - a 1950s, fully functional working farm, complete with a furnished Georgian Farmhouse.

Tractors - not fun?

All very Beatrix Potter!  Maybe it's the wee wooden gates, but one can't help but think Peter Rabbit might spring out at any moment, whilst the vegetable patch boasts a Dingle Dangle Scarecrow.  The farm itself is reached either by a brisk 10 minute walk across the fields (well-surfaced, and perfectly passable with a buggy) or alternatively, (and more excitingly if you're under 10) on the tractor, which is included in the admission price and leaves every 30 minutes or so.  This was Madeleine's first tractor ride, and it started in tears and ended in smiles.  The friendly tractor driver was attempting to wind up his younger passengers by inciting them to cheer before he would leave.  Madeleine took one look - clearly decided it was unlike any other bus we'd previously ridden, and promptly burst into tears.  However, the bumpy ride and jiggles soon put paid to that.  It will take considerably more to cheer up Daddy.  John is not keen on tractor rides!

Once on the farm, the short guided tour is very orientated towards the younger members of the tour.  I came a way with a sense that they are nice people, who like farm animals.  I have no idea what makes it a 1950s farm to be honest, other than they use bigger machines on dairy farms now?  However, approach it in good spirit, as a chance to see some friendly pigs, a herd of dairy cows, some calves, horses and a couple of old fat hens, and you're quids in.  This was Madeleine's first trip to a farm, and she has never seen an animal (other than Ginger Cat) up close before.

First we visited the pigs.  She took one look.  Hmm..  looked at me - just in case I was about to run bawling -and then decided it was obviously terrifically exciting.  Many smiles all round and much waving of the arms.

The cowes and the hens got a slightly less enthusiastic response. Perhaps she was all farmed out, or maybe, by then, she was more interested in some milk of her own!

 Inside the farmhouse is left as it would have been in the 1950s.  To me, it looked surprisingly like some of the houses we viewed recently in our latest house-buying dalliance.  Yes, well, the 1950s weren't that long ago - particularly if you were conceived in the 1960s - I was able to identify most of the kitchen equipment.

Outside the gardens and vegetable plot remain charming.  Old Turnip Heid is largely guarding fallow ground at this time of the year - though I know in the summer it will be brimming with different fruits and vegetables. However, you can just see that even in bleak midwinter, a wee Robin had decided to perch on his head. I know it looks very Sunday Supplement, but he was really there - I didn't paste him in afterwards, in case you are wondering.

One word of caution - I don't recommend the cafe.  We had a perfectly adequate sandwich there when we arrived.  I really can't complain.  It's just that they serve macaroni with chips... and bought in tray bakes.  A big thumbs down.

Instead we headed home and made sultana scones instead.  If you're going to spend the day in wellies, watching robins perch on turnip-heid scarecrows and meeting friendly pigs, freshly baked scones, still warm, dripping in raspberry jam and clotted cream are the only fitting end to the day.

Messy though!

The National Museum of Rural Life opens daily between 10am and 5pm and is free to member of the National Trust for Scotland

National Museum of Scotland

Me!

LOOK!  No hands!  Here, I am - all grown up, sitting on my own on a marble floor (no less) at the National Museum of Scotland, waiting for the hourly chiming of the Millenium Clock.  If you follow that link, you'll see someone else has kindly filmed it for you.   The hourly chime is a mechanised performance that lasts around 4 minutes.  Mummy and I were far too busy watching it ourselves to video it, I'm afraid.

The Millenium Clock

Besides being extremely famous and clever, the clock is important because it was my big sister, Catherine's favourite thing in the whole museum.  I was quite interested too, however it is not my favourite thing at the moment - me being somewhat more techno-minded myself, that is.

Over all, I quite enjoyed my trip.  First I had a tasty egg mayo and salad sandwich in the Balcony Cafe, and Mummy had a latte.  Then we checked out both the children's areas (a fragile planet space on the 5th floor) and the sensory area (on the ground floor next to the clock).  The Fragile Planet part has some interesting jigsaws that light up if you get them right, a big globe to spin and a fish game with a scary shark.  I had no idea what the game was all about, but I did enjoy watching the older children shriek and run away from the shark.

Downstairs, the sensory area has lots of musical instruments, some funny mirrors that make you look strange and some story-reading-cubby-holes with comfy cushions.  To be honest, by the time we got here, I was pretty much ready for my nap, but maybe I'll enjoy it more another day?

So all that's left is to tell you about MY favourite.  On the ground floor, there's an exhibit about stars and space.  Oh boy it's good.  All dark, with twinkly stars.  And a 180 degree huge screen, which runs a short film about the Big Bang and all that.  It was brilliant.  Big EXPLOSIONS... lots of light.... lots of noise!  We watched it twice.  

So back in my buggy and away home.  I'm not allowed to tell anyone, but on the way back Mummy nipped into Greggs for some change for the bus.

Chocolate biscuit?  Moi?  Don't be silly.  I'm way too young for that!

  

Babies Who Brunch: The Swing

Today I have invited my Mummy to do a guest post.

From ladies who lunch to babies who brunch, The Swing - Colinton Parish Church’s community cafe - is quite the place to be.  Staffed entirely by volunteers, the emphasis is on home baking and local sourcing, whilst all the profits go to charity.

A gentle walk down the Water of Leith, either up from Juniper Green and through Spylaw park, or through Colinton Dell (but lots of steps if you go this way) might make you feel better about sampling  the homebaking - daily fruit crumbles, cakes and scones. Whilst £3 for a baked potoato and filling, £2 for a homemade soup, or £1 for a scone with jam is easy on the purse in these credit crunch times.

It is not just Mummies who use this place, but we are clearly welcome.  The bright and airy space with pleasing views across the river, also boasts a safe place to leave your buggy (though you could wheel a sleeping child into the seating area without attracting dirty looks), lots of highchairs, and a playmat with toys.

Madeleine impressed the “waitress” - oh, did I not mention, there is table service too? - by being a baby led weaner.  “Never” she said sceptically, as I tried to explain this new fangled approach.  However, no one raised an eyebrow, even after Kate and her had boldly decorated the floor.  We did clear up after ourselves of course!

On the way back, we nipped into Spylaw Park, which has recently had new play equipment installed.  There’s now 2 baby swings.  Perfect.  So here it is, Madeleine’s first swinging experience after lunch at The Swing:

She loved this swing too!

The Swing Cafe, Colinton Parish Church opens weekdays during term time.

Great Railway Journeys

Getting up my strength 

Another busy week!  


Friday was the occasion of my first great rail journey over the Firth of Forth.  Here I am, a lady in waiting, at Haymarket Station, trying to get my strength up for the excitement to come, with a sneaky nap before we set off.  Mummy did her best to impress upon me the significance of the occasion by holding me up to the window and gesticulating wildly as the train approached the Forth Bridge.  Unfortunately, I was more interested in my first Starbucks Breakfast.  Having disposed of the croissant in timely fashion, I was still occupied investigating the bag!

Generally, my learning to eat is going quite well, though my favourite food continues to be yoghurt and bread.    This week, I have tried asparagus, strawberries, spag bol, Danish pastries from Falko (possibky the best bakery in all of Scotland), cottage cheese, pear, porridge, braised pork belly, chive sausages, steak pie, pea soup, boiled eggs and Turkish mezze.  I liked everything, except the porridge.  I did give it a fair go, but quite frankly, I prefer toast in the morning.

This week also saw an unscheduled first visit to the National Gallery.  Mummy forgot the rain cover for my buggy, so when it started to sleet as we came down the Mound last Thursday, she bumped me down St Mary’s steps at speed, and dived in.  There are about 114 steps, so together with the rain cover crime, this is probably the bad parenting equivalent of a Greggs sausage roll and a can of coke. 

Once inside, having totally failed to interest me in Turner’s Water colours, which were gifted to the gallery on the basis that they are only exhibited in the cold light of January (next year, maybe?), she moved to the Catherine tried and tested formula for small children in big galleries. It’s called Babies and Bosoms.  The object of the exercise is to see how many of each you can spy.  It’s a little disconcerting at the moment, as there’s actually a picture of St Agatha, who had her breasts cut off to prove how pious she was.  So there they are: on a plate in the foreground. Eurghh!  

Apparently, if things becomes really serious, you can also move onto spotting dogs.  We also found two lobsters.  Perhaps we can work those in for when I am older?

Anyway, I thought I would finish up with this picture of me looking gorgeous.  Apparently red suits me!

Doesn't it just!

The exhibition of Turner Watercolours is free to visit and continues until 31st January.  Older visitors may appreciate it more.

Big Bad Bard

Burns wrote aboot Haggis

Alls the Bs today.  Today I attended my first storytelling performance at the Scottish Storytelling Centre in the Royal Mile.  All the Bs today, as the topic was Robert Burns or as the Scots would say, Oor Rabbie, who infamously wrote some impenetrable poetry aboot haggis and fieldmice.

The second B is for the storyteller.  B here definitely stands for BRAVE.  Imagine being asked to entertain twenty under 2s for forty minutes with nothing but a finger puppet hen and a model of Nessie.    All told, she did remarkably well, and the performance, although (in my humble opinion) not half as amusing as the Singing Kettle, wasn't the disaster those kill joys (like Granddad) would have predicted.  Instead, we all listened to the Scottish songs and rhymes....  I may even work my way up to a story eventually.  The story teller also has an extremely impressive wooden chair.  One needs a little drama in ones life, I think.

Inspired by the Scottishness of it all, tonight I ordered Haggis for my dinner.  Although Haggis, Scotland's national dish, is made up of sheep offal all simmered up nicely with some oatmeal and spices in a sheep's stomach, the B here is not for Bugger that... Like my Big sister, who was mightily partial to it, I actually also thought it wasnae bad at all...  Here's me pontificating on my first taste....

So, the final B is actually for Bucket List.  Mummy and I are finalising it at the moment: 100 things to do before you're 5.  It takes some time to think of the top 100 priorities, but trying haggis was definitely one of them.


Tiny Tales for babies 6 months to 2 years happens once a month at the Scottish Storytelling Centre Edinburgh and costs £6. 

Weekend in the Borders

View from the back door 

Had a great weekend trying to trash Auntie Dorothy's lovely cottage in the Borders.  Beautiful sunny morning - even though it is Scotland and January - perfect for a brisk walk across crisp frost-covered fields, though Mummy was less than sporting, and point blanked refused to mount the stiles with me in the backpack - even though that would have been more fun.  However, this weekend was really about chilling out in front of the woodburner, good friends and eating monstrous amounts of food....

This is the weekend where I discovered Oxtail Stew (courtesy of Auntie Junia) and bread pudding (thank you Uncle James).  Fortunately (for Auntie Dorothy), there is a nice big wooden wipeable table and nice virtually indestructable wooden floors.  You can't even mash things into the leather sofas that well.  


I am also learning how to hold court, and get everyone looking at ME adoringly.  Isn't it working well?  I love it when a plan comes together....  

However, forget the local pub with award winning food and open fires; forget the stunning views over the hills; forget the stillness and quiet, apart from the brook burbling gently beneath your window.. because there is one thing in the cottage which is better than any sunny January day, or view, or bracing walk...

What joy it was to sit on this window seat... how happy I was to reach for it...

It is definitely the most exciting thing in the place....

It's....

Oh yes!  I just *love* this wooden fish.

Kingfisher Cottage is available to rent at hugely reasonable rates.

Beginnings

My name is Madeleine, and I have just turned six months old.

So far, life has been jolly exciting.  Since being born at home, unexpectedly, in the bathroom, it's all been fairly damn eventful.  I have fallen asleep in the Sistine Chapel, completed a scary term of Water Babies classes, which seem to involve having my head dunked under the water an awful lot, ridden on trains, planes and automobiles, pulled some sizeable chunks of Ginger Cat's fur out without admonishment or injury (to me at least), and watched an awful lot of other people eating, everywhere from rustic pizza joints to fancy French restaurants to chocolate shops in Tallinn.  (My parents like their grub).

crepe is messy!

However, in the last month or so, as I have begun to wake up to the world, things have really starting hotting up.  First off - none of this sitting idly by whilst everyone else chows down - no Sirree!  On 23rd December, it suddenly came to me in a blinding flash of inspiration, and I made my first full grab for my Mum's BLT whilst airborne, en route to Heathrow.  (Three weeks later, I'm pleased to report I've had my teeth in an authentic French Chocolate and Chantilly crepe, a full Christmas dinner and I even nearly got some ice-cream last night).  This is me giving the chocolate crepe my best shot.  I'm afraid my table manners possibly need a little more work....

Last month was also my debut attendance at my first theatrical performance (The Singing Kettle).  Darlings!  I LOVED THEM!!  And sat completely transfixed throughout the entire performance, despite all those gloomy predictions from well-meaning on-lookers who though I might be a "bit too young" to enjoy it.  Huh!  "You cannot throw your Granny off the Bus" (cos she's your mammy's mammy) was clearly the high point for me.  However, my Mummy assures me that once I have had a broader range of experiences, I will probably develop something called "taste" and become a little more discerning.

My Mummy has also been exposing me to modern art, on the off chance I have talent.  Here I am, engaged in some early art appreciation with my Daddy.  Scary Big Baby eh?  Bet she got stuck in the birth canal!

Anyway, that's a bit about me.  I'm led to believe The World is a totally spiffing place.  I'm also told I'm rather adorable, and not only  highly intellligent, but most likely hugely talented or especially gifted.  This exploring business is going to be a hell of a lot of fun.

This blog is all about my adventures in the big wide world!

Please feel feel to join me!  We are going to have a ball!

Love Madeleine

                X x