Southwold Museum magic

I have just enjoyed a guided tour of Southwold Museum courtesy of its President, Adnams’s own Simon Loftus. I am ashamed to admit that I hadn’t visited the museum in a couple of decades, and it blew me away.

The displays are punchy, modern and utterly compelling. A great colour scheme picks out themes, and the visitor’s progress around this tiny, packed space is made entertaining via quirky displays, fascinating cabinets and exciting interactive bits and pieces.

How do you make a tiny museum with such a huge variety of donated stuff logical and compelling? With a heck of a lot of planning, intelligence and skill, that’s how. Thanks to the Heritage Lottery Fund and an enthusiastic bunch of trustees and volunteers this has become a magical place.

I’d heartily recommend a visit, and allow a couple of hours so you can really explore. It’s like something out of an E Nesbit or C S Lewis children’s book and needs a lot of time to be appreciated fully.

Consistent Southwold loveliness

I have just run my up to date tag cloud and am pleased to see it reflects fairly accurately a life which is made so much richer by my ability to live and work in Southwold, the out and out joy I extract from my job, and my lovely family. At risk of sounding uncharacteristically smug, in a world made gloomy by the recession and the occasional hideous crisis, it’s lovely to reflect with happiness on the simple things that make life special.

Here’s last year’s:

And here’s the year’s before, which shows a preoccupation with trying to get a three month old baby to sleep!

Matt Cardle & the desire to be extraordinary

Today I returned to the office from Biarritz to find, yippee, Matt Cardle’s album. This is possibly the most exciting thing to happen in about six months, but…

When I first saw Matt Cardle sing on the X Factor I thought, there is a Springer.

Full of talent, clearly a nice chap, he reminded me of a designer who arrived, a year into Spring’s life. It was midwinter and he was in a tshirt and scarf (the fashion that winter). He had a nice face and was cheeky, which was some of the battle won; he had a good folio (that counted for another 60%) and he ‘got’ Spring (that was both 10% and, in a way, 100%). Glen’s now been with us for almost five years and we love him like family.

What’s more, he perpetually surprises us – great ideas, sudden technological leaps forward, a marketing campaign for a personal project – he never takes his skills for granted and he always has personal standards outside our requirements.

So, Matt Cardle. When I first saw him, in his daft hat with his extraordinary voice – raw, beautiful, high and unexpected – I thought of the wonderful people who have walked in through Spring’s doors, who get it, who want to join in. Designers, students, managers, strategists, people who have not yet joined and people who have joined and left. They have in common a desire to be really good, a curiosity about a creative community that will allow them to bloom. He seemed to me to be the epitome of a Springer (doubtless assisted by his East Anglian roots).

My sadness about Matt Cardle is that this astonishing voice has been constrained by Sony into an unexceptional set of songs. Sure, it’s an enjoyable album – but it’s not what he could do, it’s not extraordinary.

So what is the lesson? The reminder to me as a company owner is to keep recognising and nurturing people’s talents. In the end, for any creative agency, you are only as good as your people, irrespective of their skill. And thank you, Matt Cardle, for your amazing voice (and I hope you have the chance to air it fully soon) and to Sony, for reminding me what matters.

The sorrow of Southwold Harbour

In this week, the death of two (or maybe one, or maybe three, it’s yet to be established) has, for the residents of my tiny but lovely seaside town been as important, or moreso, than the death of Steve Jobs.

This afternoon, a car containing we know not how many people drove so fast that it burst through three metal barriers into the River Blyth at the mouth of the North Sea in Southwold Harbour. Whatever impelled its driver to do so was filling that car as it drove down Southwold High Street, leaving a contrail of sadness throughout the heart of the town.

The first most of us knew of it was sirens wailing: a police car, followed by a marine rescue support car, then an ambulance. In the half hour that followed, ambulances, helicopters and civilian lifeboatmen scrambled along that trail, and we watched perplexed as butcher, carpenter and doctor drove stern-faced to the harbour mouth.

I happened to be in a meeting with an Archant employee: we were talking about a new business award that could unite Norfolk and Suffolk. Our meeting was broken by a call from his editor, who sent him back to cub reporter days with a mobile phone camera and notepad to catch the news first. I drove him to the harbour: fortunately few people were there apart from the emergency services.

What struck me was how many of them were Specials and Reserves. Don the uniform and they become stern, capable and emotionally disconnected: I refuse to believe that someone who is only a part time policemen or lifeboatman is inured to sorrowful, passionate death. But to a man (and many of them women) they were calm. I salute them, and hope they have spouses who can listen.

The car has not, as far as I know, been recovered. Part of me wonders whether it should be. I imagine we will find out who they are, and we will all mourn them. But all we know at the moment is that Southwold is now someone’s sorrowful end, and that many people flocked to save them.

I wish those who died well, and a warm next step; and those who tried to saved them, thanks and comfort.

 

 

Jamie Oliver’s fab Kedgeree

I made this last night and it’s far better than any other kedgeree recipe I’ve used. (I don’t usually get on with his recipes but this one’s great)

2 large free-range or organic eggs
680g undyed smoked haddock fillets, pinboned
2 fresh bay leaves
170g long grain or basmati rice
sea salt
110 pure butterghee
a thumb-sized piece of fresh ginger, peeled and grated
1 medium onion or 1 bunch of spring onions, finely chopped
1 clove of garlic, peeled and finely chopped
2 heaped tablespoons curry powder
1 tablespoon mustard seeds
2 tomatoes, deseeded and chopped
juice of 2 lemons
2 good handfuls of fresh coriander, leaves picked and chopped
1 fresh red chilli, finely chopped
a small pot of natural yoghurt

Boil the eggs for 10 minutes, then hold under cold running water. Put the fish and bay leaves in a shallow pan with enough water to cover. Bring to the boil, cover and simmer for about 5 minutes, until cooked through. Remove from pan and leave to cool. Remove the skin from fish, flake into chunks and set aside.

Cook the rice in salted water for about 10 minutes and drain. Refresh in cold water, drain again, and leave in the fridge until needed. Melt the butterghee in a pan over a low heat. Add the ginger, onion and garlic. Soften for about 5 minutes, then add the curry powder and mustard seeds. Cook for a further few minutes, then add the chopped tomatoes and lemon juice.

Quarter the eggs. Add the fish and rice to a pan and gently heat through. Add the eggs, most of the coriander and the chilli and stir gently. Place in a warm serving dish. Mix the rest of the coriander into the yoghurt and serve with the kedgeree.

 

Pro-royal, now, and proud

The Wedding bunting is up, and my house is massively improved by its gaudy flapping for a short while. Yep, whilst it might not be cool to be pro-Royal, I’m unashamedly so. Here’s why, off the top of my head and in brief.

Firstly, speaking as a marketer and salesman, it gives Great Britain a USP which is hugely beneficial for tourism and all manner of other quality-of-life and commercial reasons. Sure there are loads of other countries that have a fascinating royal history – but ours is living. There’s a thread that carries through centuries, and is still very present today.

Icons of our country – the flags, the ‘phone boxes, the architecture, the foods – are linked by people whose names ring through time rather than simply by governments, whose leaders we forget. (There’s a lot to be said for a handful of christian names and some numbers as an aide memoire.)

Secondly, the impact on morale on those who receive senior royals cannot be underestimated. The royal family’s calendar of events is unenviably busy – hopping from place to place, everywhere smelling of fresh paint and awash with nervous faces – but everywhere that one of the top few royals goes (and even those in the lower ranks) is enhanced by that fleeting visit. As a means of rewarding hard workers and community-spirited people it’s unmatched throughout the world.

I am related to Oliver Cromwell, and largely proud of that. Not everything he did was right but there’s lots he did for the good (readmitting the Jews to Britain, for example) and I am a firm believer in the right leadership for every era.

My belief is that, now, our country is at its best when lead by a mixture of firm, ethical, well applied government and a hard working royal family. If I’ve had concerns on that balance in the last few decades, it’s not with the monarchy.

11 Hei Poa Monoi Oil Coconut

I discovered this at Galleries Lafayette in Biarritz during an unexpectedly hot March visit. It’s the best body and hair conditioning oil I have ever encountered, bar none, and it smells of Tahitian summer. It’s practically impossible to get hold of in the UK, though Body Shop does a version of it.

 

10. Acctim Sweep alarm click

Not a thing of beauty this, the Silver Sweep made by Acctim, but its completely silent second hand ensures you can have a good old fashioned clock that doesn’t hammer into your consciousness at 3am. It’s incredibly cheap but don’t let that put you off.

9. Skate at the Butley Orford Oysterage

Forming one of my earliest memories, the sound of metal chair legs shrieking against the tiled floor of the Butley Orford Oysterage has always been the clamorous introduction to a wonderful meal.

And there’s nothing better than a skate wing accompanied by a few spuds, some buttered sliced loaf and a glass of Muscadet. Dad disagrees, he always has the griddled squid. Mum disagrees, she always has the pie. Si disagrees, he always has something different. But I reckon it’s as close to the perfect meal as you could get.

8. Pears soap

It’s as old as the hills, a gorgeous colour and it’s really good for your skin – and it’s cheap, too. Pears soap is just brilliant and I hope that they never decide to improve it or create some cod-scientific mumbo jumbo around it.

(In fact I’ve just seen that this time last year they did muck about with the formula, but went back to the original after a campaign on facebook – power to the people!)