I am currently listening to a wonderful radio programme ‘Radio 4′s: A History of Private Life’, written and presented by Amanda Vickery. I was given it on CD to review for Amazon Vine, and it’s a real treasure.
It’s a lot of listening. Coming in at six hours and forty minutes of air time, I am digesting it, programme by half hour programme. Each programme is organised by a theme, say life in the kitchen, or burglary, and also in rough chronological order, starting in about the seventeenth century.
Amanda Vickery is a lovely presenter, charming, funny and with a knack for telling you curious tid bits and anecdotes that stick in your brain. It’s just how I think they should teach history at school. As well as Vickery’s presenting, there are excerpts from folk songs, public records and private letters and diaries, all narrated by actors such as John Sessions and the wonderfully named Madeleine Brolly.
It’s not just me that is enjoying it either. I tend to listen to it in the evenings when I am making the dinner, and both Matilda, and Jason (who claims to hate anything ‘historical’) have drifted in on occasion, and then found reason to linger round the kitchen table and listen. Jason swears blind he isn’t actually listening, but then I catch him giggling, and a couple of times he has even been known to comment, under his breath of course.
It is a joy.
Two things in particular have made me very happy when I was listening this week.
Firstly this song:
It is called ‘Dashing Away With A Smoothing Iron’, a catchy title, I think you will agree. It was played on one of the radio programmes in a much more simple arrangement than this, and it suddenly brought back very strong memories of my mum singing it to me when I was little. I loved it. I had no idea what it really meant then, but I liked the idea of dashing away with a smoothing iron. It sounded very satisfactory and a bit dangerous.
Secondly, I was listening to an episode about the kitchen pharmacy, and they gave a marvellous remedy for madness. I noted it down, for I am feeling a little mad myself at the moment.
All you have to do is take a live chicken, and then kill it, by spatch cocking it. You spread it out, and place it on top of your head with the innards on your hair. Apparently it is important that the lungs be touching your head.
And then you just wander about with your chicken headwear for a while until you feel better.
I’m thinking of giving it a go.
I think my nan used to sing the Dashing Away with the Smoothing Iron song to my mum because she sang it to me and is now annoying her grandchildren by singing it to them too.
There was a fair bit of dashing away with the smoothing iron in our house too
Think I’d rather indulge in my madness than wear a lightly disemboweled chicken on my head. But you know, each to his own, if that’s what you fancy in the way of a hat this season – go for broke!
Mrs Jones
I’m glad I’m not the only one who recognises it. My mum hasn’t annoyed her grandchildren with this yet, but I expect she will now.
Sharon
Glad to hear it. Chicken hats are probably what Philip Treacey has dreamed up for next season. for sure. Along with vole trousers.
You could also do a bit of soothsaying on the side with your chicken hat.I remember my Nan singing that song to me-thanks for posting it!
Re the vole trousers – here in the great land of Oz you can buy moleskin trousers! I understand they are quite popular as workwear – manual not office.
I remember that song too! I can’t remember where from though; perhaps the 100 Best (or was it Favourite) Songs on the radio on a sunday evening when I was a kid.
Jenny
After the entrails had had their efficacious effect, obv.
Sharon
I think I had a moleskin waistcoat once in my teens.
Alienne
It is a top song. I have been yodelling it on and off for the last three days.