Washing lines#1

Fine Lines a celebration of clothesline culture  by Cindy Etter-Turnbull doesn't appear to be available in UK but Canadian and US readers can get it here. I was lucky enough to win my copy at Letters from a Hill Farm.  It is a highly entertaining as well as informative book and well worth the effort of tracking down a copy. Each section had me reminiscing, remarking on the changes in our domestic habits over the last 60 years or so and frequently laughing aloud.

I was surprised  to learn that in some parts of Canada and US clotheslines are banned! I haven't heard of that happening here yet but we all know that where America leads England tends to follow. I'm getting my "Hands off my washing line!"  placard ready, just in case. My first thought on a warm, breezy day is how much laundry can I get washed and out to dry? It would be a brave official who would try to stop me!

You might wonder, as I did, at the idea of a clothesline culture. Don't people just put their washing out to dry in the sun? Believe me, after reading just a few pages of Fine Lines, I realised that the how and where of laundry drying is embedded in our cultural identity. I don't intend to spoil the book for would-be readers but I am going to pick out a few aspects of clothesline culture to explore here over the next few days. Do join me with your own memories and observations.

Nappy drying service at Butlin's holiday camp 1955

My mother always had two long washing lines made of rope and supported by wooden props. She would have approved of the rows of nappies blowing in the breeze in this picture from BBC archives. However, she would not have had that tattered nappy on display for the neighbours to see! Less than perfect items were dried on an indoor rack in the kitchen.

 There were more wet Mondays than dry ones in Lancashire, so this ceiling clothes rack was in constant use along with the 'clothes maiden'

I think this was a northern name because when I moved to the south of England I could only buy this type and it was called a clothes horse:

I didn't see any props in the southern gardens, all my neighbours had pulley lines. My Lancashire soul needed a prop so a friend made one for me, a little more sophisticated than this one, but not much!

My cottage garden is too small for a proper washing line so I now have a rotary line that can be packed away in the garage when not in use and I have a tumble dryer and the Aga for those wet days.

 

Modern appliances are useful but not nearly as satisfying as the old ways of doing things. As a young mother, I loved to look out on my rows of terry nappies blowing in the wind. I loved the fresh outdoor smell of the dried laundry and was really surprised when one of my neighbours told me that she never dried her washing outdoors because she hated her clothes to smell of the sea.

My mother had very precise ways of hanging out the washing. It was sorted and folded and put in the basket in the order it was to pegged on the line. The basket was carried out into the garden with the bag of pegs and a damp cloth for wiping the line - skipping that would lead to trouble if she found a dirty mark on a shirt or sheet. Next time I'll look at pegs and how the clothes were hung out to dry.

Uplifted by birdsong

When my friend D and I met up yesterday, we exchanged belated Christmas gifts. We share a love  of garden birds and D gave me this book and CD of birdsong:

I have been playing it in the kitchen this morning while baking, making soup and generally pottering. It created the most relaxing yet uplifting environment and I achieved far more than I had planned. The birds in my garden are  busy eating to ward off the cold at present and their singing won't begin until the spring weather arrives. Thanks, D, this has brought spring and summer into the house!

One of my favourite poems is Siegfried Sassoon's Everyone sang. He wrote some of the most powerful poetry of WW1 but this poem is full of hope or, as he himself described it, release.  Like the birdsong, I find it very uplifting:

Everyone suddenly burst out singing; And I was filled with such delight As prisoned birds must find in freedom, Winging wildly across the white Orchards and dark-green fields; on--on--and out of sight. Everyone's voice was suddenly lifted; And beauty came like the setting sun: My heart was shaken with tears; and horror Drifted away ... O, but Everyone Was a bird; and the song was wordless; the singing will never be done.

With cheerful voice

It is probably far too late for New Year greetings but this is my first post in 2011, so here goes: Happy New Year!

Where have I been and what have I been doing? Well, the days have been full and have flown by but there is nothing terribly exciting to report. I've been quite preoccupied with some difficult situations among family and friends, where cancer is affecting far too many people who are dear to me.

Then a few days ago, I had an email from my long-time blogging friend, e, who said she was missing my 'cheerful voice.' That made me realise how deep into despond I was sinking and that I really ought to shake myself out of it. I have been reading some of my favourite blogs and finding that many of you have been writing about things that make you cheerful and grateful and this morning the postman brought me a package from Nan at her Hill Farm; it was a book that has had me chuckling all day.  Thank you all for kick-starting my optimism. I'm now ready to think of my own reasons to be cheerful.

I have plans for writing about the book that arrived today but that is for later in the week. In the meantime I will just remind myself how lucky I am:

My three lovely grandchildren

 

Living by the sea

 First signs of Spring

A lunch date with my dear friend D at the Exeter Inn tomorrow

Now that I have started, I can think of hundreds of reasons to be cheerful. I must be out of the doldrums at last!  I've been in something of a royalist mood since seeing The King's Speech last week so here is a clip from the celebration of the 50th anniversary of the Queen's coronation in Westminster Abbey. It is undoubtedly "with cheerful voice."
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Millie picks a winner

The names of all the entrants for the Flower Fairy bag kit draw went into Millie's bag and Millie  kindly agreed to interrupt her task of scattering toys around the living room floor in order to pick out the winner. I apologise for the poor photographs but if you have ever tried to get a two-and-three-quarter year old to co-operate with a camera, you'll understand and forgive!

The polar bears want this one

Shall I open it?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I wish I could read.

The winner is Jodi!

Congratulations, Jodi! I'll be sending the kit off to you as soon as the Post Office opens after the New Year holiday. I'm sure you will enjoy making it up for your little granddaughter. I don't think Millie was swayed by all that flattery, by the way; I'm fairly sure that she can't read yet!

Flower fairy draw reminder

If you would like a chance to win a Flower Fairy bag kit, just leave a comment here or on the original post. Millie will draw a winner tomorrow before she leaves.

Christmas greetings

The cake, pudding, mince pies, gingerbread and desserts have all been made. The tree has been decorated and the presents wrapped. My son and his wife and little Charlotte have arrived safely. So there is nothing left but to get ready for Midnight Mass and to wish each and every one of you a very happy Christmas.

You can see some of my childhood memories of Christmas over on The Dabbler and then perhaps you will know why I choose this particular carol to welcome the feast day.

Win a fairy bag kit

These are the  little Flower Fairy bags that I made for my grandchildren. They will hold a surprising number of those small toys that children love to hold.

The green bag is for Benjamin. I used little boy fairies and a masculine-looking lining so that he won't feel too embarrassed to carry his cars and dinosaurs around in it!

I have put together a complete kit: fairy panels, batting, lining, trim and cord, together with simple instructions for making the bag.  Why not start the New Year with a small project? Just leave a comment here, stating whether you would like girl or boy fairies and I will get Millie to pick out a winner when she comes for her Christmas visit.

Cable and lace

I have completed all my knitting projects for the children. As you can see, my fingers have been too busy to do any typing! It has been something of a Debbie Bliss fest, using patterns and yarns from her Simply Baby and The Baby Knits Book.

For Charlotte, a pretty lace-edged cardigan in a delicate shade of green. She is such a pretty, delicate tot that I thought this would be just right for her.

Then to keep out the wintry cold, this cable and moss stitch jacket. I made one for Millie when she was 10 months old and that has now been passed on to Benjamin. Millie now has another, so I look forward to seeing all of the grandchildren dressed in cable and moss stitch when they  come for their  Christmas visit.

Benjamin has inherited so many knitted jackets that I haven't done very much for him yet, so here's a boyish top in cable and rib.

Christmas book draw

That superb literary magazine, Slightly Foxed produces a special Christmas edition called The Christmas Fox. It is an ideal gift for oneself or a book-loving friend and there are three copies to be won on The Dabbler right now. All you have to do is identify the illustrator of Scrooge's third visitor and if you don't want to look it up, you can simply look very  closely at the signature on the picture!

I am being so helpful because, as mother of one of the editors of The Dabbler, I will have to buy my own copy or hope to receive it as a gift! The competition is open until 6th December and the prizes will be sent anywhere in the world. So, good luck everyone!

(Special note for AliB - I'm sure you would love one - just look at this year's title!)

Tell all your girlfriends

I just had an email from a doctor friend and she asked me to pass it on to all my friends. Well, I don't like sending group emails so I will pass it on here.

Interesting.... we do it instinctively but now I guess this is the theory behind it all.
They teach it at  Stanford
 "I just finished taking  an evening class at Stanford. The last lecture was on the mind-body  connection-the relationship between stress and disease. The speaker (head  of psychiatry at Stanford) said, among other things, that one of the best things  that a man could do for his health is to be married to a woman whereas for a  woman, one of the best things she could do for her health was to nurture her  relationships with her girlfriends. At first everyone laughed, but he was  serious.

Women connect with each other differently and  provide support systems that help each other to deal with stress and difficult  life experiences.  Physically this quality “girlfriend time" helps us to create  more serotonin-a neurotransmitter that helps combat depression and can create a general feeling of well being.  Women share feelings whereas men often form relationships around activities. They rarely sit down with a buddy and talk about how they feel about certain things or how their personal lives are going. Jobs? Yes. Sports? Yes. Cars? Yes. Fishing, hunting, golf?Yes.  But their feelings?-rarely.  Women do it all of the time. We  share from our souls with our sisters/mothers, and evidently that is very good for our health.  He said that spending time with a friend is just as important to our general health as jogging or working out at a gym.

There's a tendency to think that when we are "exercising" we  are doing something good for our bodies, but when we are hanging out with  friends, we are wasting our time and should be more productively engaged--not true. In fact, he said that failure to create and maintain quality personal relationships with other humans is as dangerous to our physical health as smoking! So every time you hang out to schmooze with a gal pal, just pat yourself on the back and congratulate yourself for doing something good for your  health! We are indeed very, very lucky. Sooooo let's toast to our friendship with our girlfriends. Evidently it's very good for our  health."

The helpful comments on the previous post about insomnia are evidence of just how much support women friends give to one another. My friend has adopted a new slogan "Gossip saves lives." Pass it on to your girlfriends too.

Sleepless in Devon

It is 02.57 and I've given up on trying to get to sleep. I suffer from periods of insomnia that may last for two or three nights and sometimes for several weeks; they end as unexpectedly as they begin.  Tonight, or rather this morning, I thought I would look up what other people have said about insomnia and discovered dozens of quotations. I'll post a few here and maybe I'll find an unexpected remedy!

A flock of sheep that leisurely pass by
One after one; the sound of rain, and bees
Murmuring; the fall of rivers, winds and seas,
Smooth fields, white sheets of water, and pure sky -
I've thought of all by turns, and still I lie
Sleepless...
~William Wordsworth, "To Sleep"

The worst thing in the world is to try to sleep and not to.  ~F. Scott Fitzgerald

Nothing cures insomnia like the realization that it's time to get up.  ~Author Unknown 

O sleep, O gentle sleep,
Nature's soft nurse, how have I frighted thee,
That thou no more wilt weigh my eyelids down
And steep my sense in forgetfulness?
~William Shakespeare, Henry IV, Part I 

Even thus last night, and two nights more I lay,
And could not win thee, Sleep, by any stealth:
So do not let me wear to-night away.
Without thee what is all the morning's wealth?
Come, blessed barrier between day and day,
Dear mother of fresh thoughts and joyous health!
~William Wordsworth, "To Sleep"

Sleeplessness is a desert without vegetation or inhabitants.  ~Jessamyn West

I find sleeplessness frustrating and so cannot agree with this writer:

It's at night, when perhaps we should be dreaming, that the mind is most clear, that we are most able to hold all our life in the palm of our skull.  I don't know if anyone has ever pointed out that great attraction of insomnia before, but it is so; the night seems to release a little more of our vast backward inheritance of instincts and feelings; as with the dawn, a little honey is allowed to ooze between the lips of the sandwich, a little of the stuff of dreams to drip into the waking mind.  I wish I believed, as J. B. Priestley did, that consciousness continues after disembodiment or death, not forever, but for a long while.  Three score years and ten is such a stingy ration of time, when there is so much time around.  Perhaps that's why some of us are insomniacs; night is so precious that it would be pusillanimous to sleep all through it!  A "bad night" is not always a bad thing.

  ~Brian W. Aldiss

I'm far more in tune with Dorothy Parker:

How do people go to sleep?  I'm afraid I've lost the knack.  I might try busting myself smartly over the temple with the night-light.  I might repeat to myself, slowly and soothingly, a list of quotations beautiful from minds profound; if I can remember any of the damn things. 

 

If anyone has a cure for insomnia, please let me know. Meanwhile I'm going back to bed to try again ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ.

  

This month, I have been mostly .....

.... Sewing, knitting and entertaining. As usual, my good intentions to be prepared well in advance for Christmas have come to nothing. I have a pile of almost-finished projects and I wonder how many of them will be ready to wrap on Christmas Eve?

Here are some that I finished last week because they need to be sent off this month.

 A sweater for Millie, who has suddenly grown out of everything she has.

Advent calendar for Millie and Benjamin. 

My daughter is making little figures to put in the pockets. They 

will then be assembled into a Christmas nativity scene.

A Christmas stocking for Benjamin.

He wasn't around last year when I made stockings

for Millie and Charlotte.

A Flower Fairies bag, the first of six that I 

hope to get finished for Christmas.

There are two more sweaters ready to be sewn up (the part of knitting that I really don't like), another Advent calendar almost completed and a list of requests from friends and family that I will probably not get around to this year. It would be so much easier to buy gifts but I really enjoy looking at the finished product and hope that the recipient will appreciate the thought that went into it.

When I was a child, a homemade dress or sweater was a sign that your parents couldn't afford to buy from the shops but it seems to be quite different now. Hand crafted goods are highly desirable and, though mine are far from perfect, family and friends seem to like having something a little different.

The entertaining that I mentioned at the beginning refers to this house guest:

Paws

Paws is a border collie belonging to a friend, who leaves her with us whenever she needs to go away. Paws is really quite happy with us but if we don't respond to all of her demands for treats, she sits by the back door looking sulky in the hope that we will try to win her favour again. She is a great actress with an amazing ability to look sad. Don't be fooled, she only wants doggy chocs!

Broken promises and unwanted gifts

Last week I resolved to get back into blogging mode. That promise to myself lasted  for precisely two days before domestic issues intervened but here I am at the start of a new week and we'll see how things go.

The 'unwanted gifts' part of the heading sounds rather churlish but it refers to a situation that is the cause of great mirth in the Random household. We are blessed with really good neighbours, whose properties once formed part of ours - in the days before we moved here.  We live in the original farmhouse with a large portion  of the farmyard and the kitchen garden, while our neighbours on one side live in a converted linhay (barn) and on the other side, a bungalow built on what used to be an orchard. We are all very friendly and helpful but can go for quite long periods without seeing one another.

The neighbours in the bungalow run an excellent nursery for children from a few months to 4 years and on Friday the husband, John, came round to tell us that they were refurbishing the nursery and he had a baby's highchair he wanted us to have. I explained that we already had one but he insisted that with three grandchildren another  chair was sure to come in handy and before I could blink I was the grateful, if reluctant owner of two highchairs.

On Saturday, John was at the door again. "I'm sure you could use a storage unit for books and toys, it is in excellent condition but we don't need it any more." So here we are in our overfurnished, cluttered house with two highchairs and a storage unit.

On Sunday my husband went to the door, he was going to be much firmer than I had been. Now we have two highchairs, a storage unit and a child's desk!

This morning we have been waiting nervously for the knock on the door, expecting to see John with two infants under his arms - in great condition but surplus to requirements! I think we need a bigger shoe!

 

Apple In and Out .... and gone

My mother-in-law, Dorothy, has been living with us for almost two years. She will be 94  at the end of November and is physically quite well, if not very mobile but her memory is poor. At first it was just her short-term memory and we have learned to live with the fact that she does not retain information for more than a minute. Her long-term memory, though, was pretty sharp until a few months ago. She loved to talk about her childhood in Devon, her experiences in the second world war and her years in Zimbabwe (then called Rhodesia) with her young family.

The memories began to be muddled, so I made albums of her photographs, letters and newspaper clippings with clear labels of the names of people and places but I saw recently that she has crossed out some of my labels and written new, incorrect ones.  I find it rather sad to think that such a long life can be fading into an inaccurate blur but she seems to be quite happy with her misremembered stories.

Dorothy was never a good cook but she had a passion for traditional Devonshire food as made by her grandmother and great aunt. She learned how to make Devonshire clotted cream so that she could have a regular supply in Africa with her other culinary success, Devonshire Apple In and Out.  She would never give anyone the recipe for this and now she has forgotten it but I found it in a book of traditional Devonshire recipes and decided to make some to stir her fading memories.

It is a very simple pudding, originally made with suet and steamed for an hour or more but I adapted it to bake as a sponge pudding and it worked very well.

Devonshire Apple In and Out
6oz flour
4oz fat
4oz sugar
1 egg
1lb apples

Rub the fat into the flour then add the sugar and beat in the egg. Peel  the apples and slice them directly into the mixture in a buttered pudding dish.

Bake at 350F/180C for about 30 minutes.
 (If using suet, steam in a greased basin for 1hr 15mins.)

I used butter and brown sugar in mine and this is how it turned out:

My husband prepared his mother for an exciting surprise and I brought in a portion of the pudding, served with vanilla ice-cream. Dorothy's reaction? "Oh, how lovely. Ice-cream!"

In, out, gone.

Speechless

My trip to Bristol to visit my lovely granddaughter, Charlotte, unexpectedly extended into a visit to Oxfordshire to babysit Millie and Benjamin. Having three grandchildren under the age of three keeps me busy in the nicest ways: I get to visit the zoo and parks and farms; read wonderful children's books, old favourites and some excellent new ones; find endless inspiration for knitting and sewing projects and get lots of cuddles.

The only downside to being a grandma is  exposure to the incredibly virulent colds that toddlers get when they are cutting teeth and both Charlotte and Benjamin shared their germs with me in a most generous fashion. By the time I drove home on Friday I had lost my voice completely and it still hasn't returned. The funny thing is that until I start to speak I don't know that I'm speechless! My voice ranges from strangled squeaks and whistles to the lowest register of Fenella Fielding's but in no predictable sequence! I can now empathise with teenage boys.

 There are some benefits though, as I sit on the sofa sipping my hot lemon and honey I am catching up on a lot of reading and I'm hoping to get back into a regular blogposting routine. Watch this space!

Prize draw for Real Readers

There are four special days in the year which feel like extra birthdays for me. The mail arrives containing a fat package bearing the image of a rather knowing fox

and I am assured of weeks of pleasurable reading to come. The package contains my quarterly edition of Slightly Foxed.

Slightly Foxed is more than a review magazine, it is an entry into the magical world of libraries that I discovered as a child. I find forgotten treasures, new delights and fascinating insights into much loved works of fact and fiction. Of one thing I can be certain, each book reviewed will have true literary merit and even though I know I will never get to read all of the books, the reviews themselves increase my knowledge and understanding of our literary heritage.

If you would like the chance to win a subscription to Slightly Foxed for yourself, or perhaps as a gift for someone else if you already subscribe, then go to The Dabbler  now and enter the competition.

Good luck!

La Stupenda

Dame Joan Sutherland 1927 - 2010.  The gretaest voice of the twentieth century.

Lost words

One of the most thumbed books on our shelves is this:

As a family of avid readers and crossword puzzlers, we have frequent recourse to dictionaries and this one has provided the solution to many a disagreement. When son and daughter were young, we had a weekly exercise where each of us chose a word from the Dictionary of Difficult Words to learn and use as often as possible during the week. I have to admit that we seldom recalled the words beyond a day or two; the only one that entered our family vocabulary was olid, meaning evil-smelling. You can imagine how frequently that was used in a household of teenagers and their friends!

I was reminded of this pastime by blogging friend erp*, who sent me a link to Save the Words. It is a wonderful website with an enormous collection of archaic and obscure words; you can even "adopt" a word, pledging to use it as frequently as possible in conversation and correspondence. Take a look, it is great fun. I thought I might adopt senticous, meaning prickly or thorny; it sounds far more interesting than grumpy, doesn't it? From now on I shall be signing any letters of complaint from "a senticous old woman."

*erp has asked me to credit the the Volokh Conspiracy with providing her with this link

War on the Margins update 2

Those of you who followed the progress of Libby Cone's excellent book War on the Margins will be pleased to know that it has been nominated for the Autumn 2010 UK People's Book Prize.

 My enthusiasm for this book has not diminished since I wrote about it here, here and here. The latest news from Libby is that it will soon be out in paperback*. She is also working on a new novel, set in Colonial Delaware. I will be reading that as soon as it is published!

You can vote for War on the Margins on the People's Book Prize website. It only takes a minute to register your vote.

*War on the Margins is now available in paperback from Amazon.

Traveller's tales #2

Stage 2 of our holiday was a very short break in the Peak District.   We haven't visited the area before and we only decided to go when our plans to see Lincoln fell through but we saw enough to make us want to go back for a much longer holiday.

The Peak District is mainly in Derbyshire but also extends into Cheshire, Staffordshire and Yorkshire. Driving out to explore the countryside, we found ourselves crossing several county boundaries but our base was at Monsal Head in Derbyshire.

This was the view from our bedroom window, the viaduct over the River Wye.

This is great walking country but with only 3 days at our disposal we decided to drive around to see as much as possible and plan a future walking holiday. The landscape is truly magnificent, words like splendour and majestic peppered our conversation as we drove over peaks and down dales. It was a great contrast to our gentle rolling hills and lush patchwork landscape here in North Devon. Here we see very little of the farmland from the narrow lanes because of the high banks and hedges but the Derbyshire farmers use dry stone walls to edge their fields and it is easy to stand on the roadside and look across at what looks like a child's drawing of fields with heavy black-crayoned dividing lines.

I thought of the effort and determination of the men who carted all that stone into these remote parts and painstakingly built the walls. We had to drive many miles before we found a quarry:

Huge trucks carry the stone nowadays but I imagined horses struggling up the hills with their heavy loads in former times.

We stayed at Castle Cliffe hotel at Monsal Head. It has stunning views and is the perfect base for walking or visiting local towns and villages. We have stayed in very many hotels and guest houses in UK but none compare with the comfort and friendliness of this one. Jackie, the owner, helped us with our bags and then invited us into the lounge for tea and home made cake. The breakfast menu was superb; I  had to try a Derbyshire oatcake with bacon and maple syrup and it was scrummy. We had excellent dinners in the Monsal Head Hotel and at the Packhorse Inn in nearby Little Longstone. To get to the latter, we had to walk along a "special off-road pedestrian walkway" which here in Devon we call a pavement!

We didn't have very much time for exploring but we made short stops in Buxton and Bakewell. I went to one of the three bakeries that claim to be "the original Bakewell pudding shop."

I was relieved to find that the pudding was quite unlike the sweet Bakewell tart that one usually finds in the supermarket.

 This was light and not too sweet with an almond base.

As a regular reader of  Rattling On, where I have seen many photos of the wonderful scenery, architecture and other features of the Peak District,  I was delighted to come across one of the dressed wells that she has posted about.

Dressed Well at Longnore

Ours was a very brief visit, on our way to Yorkshire. We hope to go back to see much more of this National Park.

Traveller's tales #1

I didn't manage to get online at all while I was away but I did have my camera with me most of the time. I am gradually reading all the posts I have missed in my favourite places and I hope to catch up with everyone soon.

Where have I been? First to Oxfordshire to spend 5 days with my daughter and her family; then to the Peak District for a few days; on to York then a week in a cottage in the Yorkshire wolds. We saw parts of England we haven't visited before and our belief that England is the best place in the world has been reinforced!

 The family visit was, of course, about spending time with the grandchildren. Here is Benjamin, now 6 months old, wearing the sweater I made. And here is Millie wearing the tiger face that Grumpy made!

 

Abingdon is the nearby town and on the day we went in there was an Italian market in the market square:

We sampled (and bought!) lots of olive oils, vinegars, truffle pate and wonderful breads. The Town Crier put in an appearance and everyone joined in with his "God bless the Queen and God bless Abingdon!"

We assembled a picnic from the Italian goodies on display and headed for the river.

Millie wanted to swim with the cygnet but Grumpy rescued her

and she eventually joined us for the picnic. What fun it is being two and a half but how exhausting for grandmas and grumpies!

I couldn't resist the autumn/winter collection in the Abingdon stores and here is one of the winter coats I bought, although I will have to lose many inches before I can wear it

Tomorrow I'll be off to the Peak District.

The Dabbler

The Dabbler - www.thedabbler.co.uk is a new multi-contributor 'superblog' - bringing you all sorts of cultural curiosities. Make sure you add it to your daily reads! 

 

Brit - who is co-editor of The Dabbler - has asked me if any bloggers or readers in the Random Distractions neighbourhood would like to contribute to a regular feature - The 1p Book Review.

 

There are all sorts of forgotten, out-of-print and neglected books that can be bought online (eg. at Amazon) for a penny plus postage. The Dabbler will be recommending some of these overlooked gems.

 

If you would like to recommend such a book (fiction or non-fiction), email your nomination and review (100-400 words is fine) to Brit via editorial@thedabbler.co.uk.

 

The focus is on less well-known books (so no Great Gatsby etc), but otherwise the only stipulation is that the book can be bought at the time of writing for 1p (or 1 cent) plus postage. Successfully published 1p Book Reviews will receive the ultimate accolade, a Dabbler badge to put on your blog or website!

 

I will be submitting a review or two, you will know if I am successful if that Dabbler badge appears here. I hope to see some of your reviews there.