Woods Ware China at the Serving Hatch

In the 1870s, William Wilkinson left the village of Islip in Oxfordshire and came to Sheffield for a better job. Without this minor contribution to the industrial revolution I may not exist – William Wilkinson was my Great Great Grandad and it was in Sheffield that he met my Great Great Grandmother, who had joined the throng from a village in Northamptonshire. They settled in the considerably less bucolic surroundings of Attercliffe among the steelworks. When I traced my family tree it brought me into contact with a wide range of tiny villages that I had never previously heard of – the Wilkinson story was repeated in every branch of my tree and was a fascinating history lesson on how our cities were built. I have since taken an interest in all of my ancestral villages from the viewpoint of a now post-industrial Sheffield, but Islip has become my favourite. So let’s have a look at their village hall. Islip was also the birthplace of Edward the Confessor (ooh, I wonder if my an...

My photograph of the Book Exchange Shelf at a Derbyshire Community Hall is somewhat obscured by a folded trestle table, which I was not about to move to get the perfect shot. I know trestle tables, they bite. Those fold out legs are the cause of many a finger blister. But you get the idea. Anyone is free to take a book from the shelf and do what they want with it. And you can leave your unwanted ones too. Ideal if you’ve just finished a novel that you weren’t that fussed about while you waited for the interminable length of time that it takes Brownies to finish. What a great scheme – everywhere should have one. A free book encourages you to broaden your horizons. Where you might not pay £1 or £2 for a book from a charity shop in case you don’t like it, a free shelf encourages you to give it a try and possibly open a whole new world. Maybe you never thought you’d like Catherine Cookson – but then you pick up a free copy of one of her books and love it – and bingo you’ve go...

I have recently been trawling the Australian newspaper archive (trove.nla.gov.au) in order to write my latest publication – “The Gossiper’s Association”. This is a fictional account of actors Cicely Courtneidge and Thorley Walters’ year in the Antipodes. Of course while I was having a rummage in there, I had to see if there were any references to British village halls. Perhaps there had been some fracas that our own newspapers had been shy to report. What I did find in the Canberra Times in 1963 was brief reference to Duffus Village Hall in Scotland, the village near where Gordonstoun School is situated. Famous for a certain Royal alumni, the school apparently used the hall for an annual handicrafts exhibition. In 1963, young Prince Charles was notable in his absence from this worthy exhibition in what was then a glorified Nissan hut. Where was the lad? The Canberra Times had the answer. He was in trouble. Apparently he had been on a visit to Stornoway on the school boat and (bra...

Needlepoint Gossip They wanted to call it the Stitch and Bitch session But the parish council wouldn’t let them So instead they called it Sew and Tell And they meet at the village hall extension To embroider bags and purses for the Women’s Institute to sell. In the hall next door, the toddlers run riot Cross stitches are produced between giggles at Joyce Grenfell cries From the Tiny Tots’ leader, who wrangles potties and fights and mangled words They always pause to listen, needles afloat Mingling “aahhh” with splutters at the overheards. In the attic room, a local charity meet To offer tea and tissues To those in need of propping up and leading The Sew and Tells talk quietly about these They all know someone, and where their own lives might be heading. Sarah Miller Walters Download one of my books today!

The above view shows the main hall of Ruddington Village Hall. Reminiscent of both an upturned boat and the gym from 'Carry on Teacher', it boasts very high windows that let in nice shafts of light but are impossible to see out of. Less distraction I suppose if the Women's Institute speaker is particularly dry. I enjoy the window that looks like transparent parquet flooring. Some facts about Ruddington Village Hall: Constructed in 1912 on land donated by the Misses Paget.  Public subscription paid for half of the building It was opened on the Coronation of George V by the Duke of Portland's brother (presumably the Duke was at Westminster Abbey, showing off his ermine) During WWII it was used for recreation for troops stationed nearby Maximum capacity is 120 To find out more visit  https://ruddingtonparishcouncil.gov.uk/about-ruddington/history/village-hall/ Some reviews from Google: Perfect for Pilates Could do with doing up a bit Too hot t...

Maud When the squire of Bradbridge Manor finally took the decision to sell up and move to Eastbourne, it came as a great relief to his wife. Several of their genteel neighbours had already taken themselves off to milder climates, putting their heirloom furniture up for auction and selling their homes off to the Youth Hostelling Association, or to private schools. The Dukes of Devonshire and Rutland kept their Derbyshire residences going, but it had been a strain – Chatsworth, Hardwick and Haddon were all millstones around their necks.   The Hooper-Dakindales of Bradbridge however were ready to throw in the towel. Maud Hooper-Dakindale, the squire’s wife, had a great friend in Gertie Lampton, late of Wye Grange. Gertie had taken off to the New Forest six months previously. Her husband had developed gout and their son and heir had been last seen in a Belgian trench in 1916. Wye Grange, previously a burden with no new generation to pass it on to, was shortly to become an agr...

In 1938, the villagers of Ewelme in the charming Chiltern Hills seemed to be having a disagreement about whether they needed a village hall or not. One resident wrote to the local newspaper, setting out the reasons why a village hall was needed. As well as a requirement for young people to be able to have recreation under supervision of their elders, the anonymous scribe railed at certain matron types in the village who displayed an “astounding attitude”. “Are not these women the very ones who either loudly deplore the fact that they cannot keep maids because there is nowhere for the said maids to go in an evening? And also the ones who condemn their granddaughters for wasting bus fares to go to the cinema in Wallingford?” Fair point, I would say. But the following point was even fairer: “Who stood between ourselves and death 20 years ago? The lads of this brave little village…who would we call on again in like danger? Those same lads to whom a shelter for a concert or danc...