Y’all. Y’ALL [lest you forget, even though I spent some time in England recently I am still deeply Southern] – I have so much to tell you about my trip to Attingham. Oh, twist my arm. Here’s a sneak peek of what’s to come:
We saw a lot of gilding.
But first, my apologies. I am two (if not three) weeks late in my blogging. I have my reasons, starting with the fact that whilst I was away the ceilings of the Hermitage conspired against me. Hooboy, there is something in the air around here.
First of all, imagine my delight to discover how much mold had sprung up all over the ceiling in the Music Room. I had my work cut out for me. Knowing what was ahead, and feeling nostalgic for England, I dressed as Sergeant Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club and set to work:
This flopsweat of a summer has really thrown our environmental monitoring for a loop (anyone working in a Southern historic house is invited to nod vigorously in agreement), and despite our best efforts it is still a constant battle to keep moisture levels reasonably low.
Just when I thought everything was under control the ceiling in the Archives room decided to spontaneously collapse, showering our flat files with a mix of plaster and broken dreams. I wasn’t around to hear the collapse, but Yolima was, and she said it sounded like a car had driven through the wall of the museum. Luckily no one was grievously injured, and the indomitable Sarah Mason was not in the room at the time.
Don’t worry, archivists; no paper was damaged during the making of this photo.
An anonymous (and much, much, much appreciated) donation coupled with the swift ministrations of our site manager Tom contained the mess. Repairs are finished as of this afternoon.
Needless to say, I’ve been lost in the hailstorm of catching back up. Three weeks is a long time to be away, but I’m back, baby! Watch this space for at least a thousand more photos of gilding… that is, if the ceilings don’t get me first.
Oh, I almost forgot! While I was gone, Colin went and got himself hired FULL TIME as the newest member of Curatorial staff. He is our now our Curator of Interpretation, which means that instead of curating objects he curates your mind. I got him some appropriately masculine balloons to celebrate: