... remember.

Just over two weeks ago something rather special started to happen at the Tower of London. To mark 100 years since Britain entered the First World War the dry moat that surrounds the Tower is being progressively filled with 888,246 ceramic red poppies. Each poppy representing one of the British or Colonial soldiers that died. Each one hand made by 1 of 30 artists in Derby. Each one planted by a team of volunteers, like me, honoured to play a small part in this historic and emotive project.  

It’s peaceful in the moat. 

With just the gentle tapping of hammers against metal posts it’s easy to forget the thousands of tourists watching from the viewing areas high above. Many of us lost in our own thoughts, silently taking in the 100,000 poppies already in place, a reminder of the fallen. 

Called ‘Blood Swept Lands and Seas of Red’, this installation has been created by ceramic artist Paul Cummins and stage designer Tom Piper. Paul, who has himself already made 50,000 poppies in his Derbyshire studio, joins us in the moat to see how the planting is going. Tom’s daughter Rachel is one of the team leaders walking us through how best to plant the poppies to maintain a stunning visual throughout the construction phase. 

It’s exciting to talk to both of them but really this is a large-scale community art project and it’s the people working quietly alongside me that make the day truly special. The man from Birmingham who caught a coach at 3am to make sure he arrived in plenty of time for his 9am shift and is already planning another visit later in the year. The lady who describes each poppy as being ‘as unique as the person it represents’, teary eyed, her voice trembling slightly. Everyone that I speak to feels privileged to be involved. This doesn’t feel like volunteering. We feel we're getting more out of this than we're putting back. 

We work in small teams. There are general instructions about which size of poppy should be used and where. My team is working close to the section where the flowers tumble from the Tower wall to fill the moat below. We are using the smallest size stalk and asked to plant them approximately 15 cm apart in a non-uniform way. Other than that it's up to us. If we feel inclined we can choose to place a taller poppy to break up the section. My teammate is right when she describes them as unique. Each flower is different and as I plant them I too begin to see them as the soldiers they portray. This band of red flowers becomes a band of brothers. Standing shoulder to shoulder. Side by side. Marching forwards, united in a single goal. It is overwhelmingly emotional and eerily quiet. And then someone speaks and we're back in the present day. Planting flowers in a moat to say thank you to those whose hands we can longer shake. To acknowledge the sacrifice they made for us all. To maintain our promise to remember them. Lest we forget.

All too soon our shift is over. We take photos of the poppies, our teammates, of the crowds and each other. We’re reluctant to leave. Making our way slowly back to the site office we wish each other a safe journey, sneaking last glances at what is sure to become an iconic reminder of the centennial commemorations. 

Later on that day I walk past the Tower again as I head to the tube station, making my way home to Norfolk. The next shift of volunteers has now taken our place and I feel a connection with a group of people that I don’t even know. Aware that I have been replaced by the next wave but wearing my volunteer t-shirt like a medal of honour. They are adding to a section that clearly depicts going over the top. I head over to look at the patch of poppies that I planted and pause to take in the view one last time. Just a spectator now I feel proud to have been involved and as I head home I can't help but smile. Yes there is sadness in the scene we're creating but there's also great joy. Red may well be the colour associated with danger but it also symbolises passion and warmth; it's the colour of love.

In his now famous poem, In Flanders Fields, John McCrae wrote ‘…the poppies blow, between the crosses, row on row’. 

Today, working safely in a different kind of trench, I watched as the poppies grew. Row on row, between the walls, and like those all around me I remembered. 

Blood Swept Lands and Seas of Red will be launched officially on August 5th and throughout the next 14 weeks volunteers will continue to plant poppies in the moat. The last poppy will be planted on Armistice Day. 

Every evening at dusk the names of 180 soldiers will be read out before the Last Post is played. 

You can buy a poppy from the HRP website and a % of the purchase price will be shared by six service charities.

If you would like to volunteer you can register your interest here.

#TowerPoppies

... do more for charity.

I managed to piss off a handful of people on Facebook this week. The younger me would have been mortified. Tried to appease those I'd upset and yet still maintain my position. This me is less inclined to care. I don't purposely want to upset anyone but it's impossible to have an opinion that everyone agrees with.

It started with this: the #nomakeupselfie. My timeline was filled with friends, friends of friends and random celebrities baring their all and going make-up free to raise awareness about cancer. On twitter and Facebook I saw photo after photo of fresh faced women nominating others to join in but with no mention of the reason for posting their pics.

I was irritated. Mildly. Only one friend had included details of why she was doing this and how to donate - I did, immediately. Several other people told me they had donated and shared this link outlining how CRUK had received more than 800,000 donations since Tuesday, most of them via text message donations. So why weren't they including the details in their posts?

Not for one minute did I believe that they intentionally left off the reason, simply that like so many things on social media it's easy to get swept along with a hashtag long after its original meaning has been forgotten. Assuming that people will know what you're doing, share your views and support your cause, presumably getting the message by telepathy. Equally I'm not against digital campaigns being used to generate money for good causes but people need to know what the cause is and how to contribute. If they choose not to that's up to them but without the details campaigns like this can seem more about conceit than cancer.

And in saying this I alienated myself pretty quickly from several people. I did however notice that shortly afterwards some of them added the 'Text BEAT to 70099 to donate £3 to CRUK' message to their posts which can only be good.

As a monthly contributor to CRUK I'm a supporter of cancer charities. I've witnessed my Mum and her sister battle with breast cancer (successfully) at a young age, and then last year my Dad died after his cancer re-emerged with ferocious intensity. So it may seem odd to be so critical. But I am. Because whilst 800,000 donations is a spectacularly positive result, how many donation opportunities have been missed because of a lack of information?

I mentioned how the speed of social, a bit like Chinese whispers, can result in something's meaning getting lost as it hurtles from one profile to another. I was unaware of the source of the #nomakeupselfie until a friend shared the origins of this campaign with me. Last September #DARETOBARE encouraged women to go make-up free at work or on a night out as part of a breast cancer awareness campaign. They were to seek sponsorship for going make-up free. It's a courageous thing to do; a nod to those cancer sufferers who have had to brave the world looking different to their former selves - exposed and bare. And do you know something? Evolving #DARETOBARE into a #nomakeupselfie campaign is no bad thing but please explain what you're trying to achieve. If you don't it just looks like you want us to tell you how beautiful you look without your make-up on before asking us to take our own photo hopefully showing us in a similarly good light. And by the way, most of you did look pretty gorgeous bare faced but the one asking me to donate, not pose, got my vote.

There are plenty of cancer charities out there. Pick the one that means something to you. Raise awareness AND make a donation. Encourage cynics like me to put our money where our mouths are - lipstick free.

Next month my husband Will is running the London marathon. He's raising money for Dove House, the hospice where my Dad died. If you haven't donated to a charity recently but would like to support a good cause I can assure you he'll be running make-up free. We'll even share a picture afterwards to prove it ;0) You can donate here.

... have a smile and a giggle. A smiggle if you will. by Bea Honeybone

Hi.

My name's Beatrice and I'm one of the few people who got invited to write a blog about Smiggle. It stands for "where a smile meets a giggle". A very nice lady called Mel Kirk, from Tribal Media, organised it so I could take part in telling you about Smiggle before the first shop opens in London on Thursday.

My Mum told me that I had a package and I was really excited. I knew it was stationery as soon as she said it was something for me to do. It was FULL of Smiggle stuff.

In my package I got an amazing pencil case that has 9 places to put my things including the pencil holders that can have 7 pencils in each. I also got some double ended pens - thick and thin tipped, double ended pencils, an ordinary pencil with an owl rubber on top. There was a 30cm rubber in the shape of a flume and a sketch pad with A5 pieces of paper in it. A horse stencil and sticker book and black scratch pad. Last of all I got a book light which is cool because I love to read in bed.

I've created some of my own pictures using all my Smiggle stuff. Here is the first piece of art I did using the horse stencil. It's called 'The Horse in the Mushrooms".

My second piece of art is the name Smiggle. I call this 'Smiggle with a Hummingbird'.

This is quite unique I think, well that's how I'd describe it. 'The Alien in the Wrong Space!' It's 3D and uses the black scratch pad and the A5 pad as well as the double ended pencils.

Finally, I made this for my homework last week. We had to draw a picture of an alien spaceship. The egg shaped aliens have hearts hanging from their ship and my teacher gave me extra merits for this. You can see some of my Smiggle goodies here too.

I really like Smiggle because their products are great for adults and children. They seem very friendly and I advise you to go to Smiggle when it opens in Westfield Stratford City. I wish it had been there when we went to the Olympics!

Thank you for reading this blog.

From Beatrice :)

Age 9

... take a photo - Day 1

It's January 1st and many of you will be making resolutions for the forthcoming year. Not me though. After repeatedly failing to keep mine I've finally realised that if I want to achieve something I need to act straight away, not wait for the clock to strike midnight on New Year's Eve.

So this year instead I'm going to steal an idea from a twitter friend and post a photo a day. Let's hope when I get to December 31st I don't look back and think 'well that was a dull year'!

Here's day one.

... go back to the 80s

This morning at breakfast, Frankie Goes to Hollywood's version of The Power of Love played on Radio 2. Now although I think the John Lewis ad has a certain saccharin sweetness about it, for me it lacks power, the key component of this song. A song I listened to repeatedly, on 12", whilst studying for my finals. A song that still has the ability to make the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. A song I love but that isn't the focus of this post.

I was explaining to my 8 year old that this was the original version of the song she knows and asked her who sings the one that's in the charts today. I thought she replied 'I don't like this singer' but what she actually said was 'I don't know a lot about singers'. That got me thinking.

Although I was a little older than my daughter, by the early 80s I was already poised over the record and play buttons of my radio cassette player, every Sunday, to record the chart show, the illegal downloading of its day.

Of course I didn't record the whole show. Like so many others of my generation, I waited, adrenalin fuelled, with the sole objective of trying to record my favourite songs WITHOUT any of the DJ's banter. This weekly activity coupled with the regular purchase of Smash Hits, meant I was able to hold my head up high in the playground when my savvy class mates sang the latest single by Michael Jackson or Bucks Fizz - cutting edge musical tastes at my school obviously! My need for music has continued throughout my life and the devices I listen on have progressed from Sony Walkman to Discman, from iPod to iPhone. It is a staple in my life and although  I do still have some Michael Jackson on my playlists, Bucks Fizz, I'm glad to say, have long been replaced by the likes of Bowie, Springsteen, Muse and The Beatles.

Whilst I get it that today my daughter and her friends have the whole internet at their fingertips I realise that I have finally reached that stage of my life where I am increasingly on the verge of saying 'When I was young...'. Not that I think it was better when I was a child, just different. I loved those Sunday afternoons when for two hours it was just me, in my bedroom with my philips radio cassette player and a run down of the top 40 singles in the UK; an introduction to the new and an enjoyment of the familiar. Happy days. When I was young.

...get to know Norfolk

October 2008. That's when we moved to Norfolk. Having survived a fairly traumatic summer that tested our resolve beyond all normal limits, it was a fresh start, a new area, an opportunity to regroup and refocus.

With a 3 year old in tow, life revolved around discovering places where we could take Bea. Places to play, eat, relax, socialise and learn. We had to find schools, restaurants, shops and public services. It was exciting but also daunting. 

Now four years on I feel it's time to rediscover Norfolk all over again but this time with a focus on more grown-up places. With its big skies and dramatic coast line, Norfolk is a natural home for artists and artisans, with something to suit the taste of visitors and locals. Travel through the towns and villages of this glorious county and you'll pass numerous galleries and independent shops - an absolute joy if, like me, you love to uncover something a little bit different to the mass produced products available on most high streets.


So this weekend I'm heading to Burnham Market for the switch on of the Christmas Lights by Cliff Parisi no less (honestly; I had to google who this was) before heading to Granny's Attic at Burnham Overy Staithe - an event described as 'an eclectic mix of small antiques, furniture, decorative and positively quirky objects' - frankly they had me at eclectic.

Although I won't have much time to shop (I'm co-manning the stall of The White Florist), I'm looking forward to connecting with some new Norfolk businesses and as the event is raising funds for Wells Community Hospital, it should be a good night all round.

I'll let you know what quirky gems I uncover.

...learn a bit more about parenting

Today I had coffee with my friend Rae. She's a new friend but sometimes we talk more often that I do with some of my oldest friends (thanks to Twitter and Facebook). 


Coffee and cake should be about incessant chattering, interspersed only by the mumblings of cake filled mouths and the clinking of spoons or forks on china. However, the addition of a 7 year old child, and a precocious one at that, means a longed for catch up is frequently interrupted by irrelevant requests that translate into 'give me your attention'!
So if you've read my daughter's blog post from today: 'Last Friday night', here's today's activities from my side of the fence.


Today we went to the Science Museum and we got to do lots of experiments - Today I took Bea to the Science Museum. She ran around like a 5 year old bashing the hell out of everything she could and feigning interest in the facts the 'experts' told her, generally nodding and saying yes so she could move onto the next activity. The exception to this was an experiment where she had to bounce a ball onto a metal plate and work out its trajectory, placing 5 hoops in a line so that the ball went through them all - she got it through 3 which I have to admit was pretty good. 


We met Rachel who’s Mummy’s friend and we went to the Hummingbird Cafe and we each had a cake - Bea and I met the lovely Ms Singh for coffee and cake. After a promising start where Bea educated Rae on all things Moshi, Rae and I caught up on life, cakes, French schools and our mothers. This was clearly a subliminal trigger for Bea to try every trick in her 7 year old book to be the centre of attention, ranging from 'can I have my iPod/paper/pens/magazine' to 'I need to go to the toilet now I'm SOOOO desperate'. We then wandered around a few gorgeous shops where every other sentence seemed to be accompanied by an echo that said 'Can I have this? Can I buy this? How much is this?'

I'm inside the Katsuma suit - a portable padded cell for coping with volatile youngsters

Then we went to Harrods and I had the Moshi Monster Guide signed by Michael Acton who invented MOSHI MONSTERS!!!!!!!! -  We arrived in time for Bea to be one of the first 200 kids in line and receive a special gift bag. After queuing for almost 2 hours, during which time Bea made friends with a lovely girl from SE London, we were at the front of the queue. Bea handed over her ideas for new moshlings and the Moshi Monsters press officer asked if she could film Bea for Moshi TV. The time came to leave and of course this was a completely unreasonable request. I mean why wouldn't I expect Bea to be cross, after all I had spent most of the day trying to make sure she had fun. The result was a full blown row where I of course lost my high ground by resorting to her level of commentary and Bea told me she hated me. Joy oh joy.


Then for our last dinner we went to Iberica and had some gorgeous ham and other bits and bobs of tapas - this bit is true. By the time we'd reached South Kensington on the tube, a delightful retired couple commented on how lovely Bea was and she turned the charm up to 11. I couldn't help but smile and we whiled away a couple of hours eating tapas, practicing Spanish and drinking pineapple juice (her) and cava (me). 


Basically as Rae's Mum said to her 'kids don't come with an instruction manual' but then even when things do we often dump the instructions in a drawer and muddle through without them. Tonight Bea's not in a drawer but I continue to muddle through. That said, I wouldn't swap her because truth be told I know I was exactly the same and as MY Mum would say, 'What goes around, comes around!'


Good luck to all you parents out there and here's a little something that sums up our lot in life :0) [Go to 5:16 for the bit on parenting].