Film stars and toilets

Deborah Williamson's depiction of Kohler......all the buildings are those she remembered from her youth....most are still there.....just not quite like this. You cannot see Lake Michigan or the Sheboygan lighthouse from Kohler.

One of my favourite places in the world is a village called Kohler. It is famous for engines and bathrooms.....and toilets. It is also the home of what was once, and probably still is, Wisconsin’s only 5 star hotel......and these things are all connected.

The Kohler Factory...office building.
 

It was a model village, built to provide homes for the workers in the Kohler factory. What is now the beautiful American Club 5 star hotel was originally a boarding house for immigrant workers in the factory.

Darlyn, longtime Kohler resident, sitting on the wall outside the 5 star American Club.

 The factory began in 1873, on a site about 4 miles east of Sheboygan which is on the shores of Lake Michigan. John Michael Kohler founded the Kohler Company in what was then a small farming hamlet known as Riverside. ( It was in a bend of the Sheboygan River ). The factory made engine driven generators and later became plumbing producers. Descendents of J.M.Kohler built up the factory and decided to build the village.

 

By far, my favourite house in Kohler....where Darlyn lived her whole life, from 1933 until 2011

The town grew as houses for the factory workers were built. By 1925, the first few streets had been completed, with 156 houses. It was modelled on the idea of an English village. Some of the houses were brick, and despite me not recognising them as such, I was informed they were supposed to look like English houses. The school, the post office, the police station, the fire station, a theatre, a park, a bandstand, and various denomination of churches were all built surrounding the growing factory complex, where engines and generators were designed and assembled.These buildings can all be seen in the Deborah Williamson print at the start of this post.

By the 1980s the luxury element of the new subdivisions that were being developed meant that the outskirts became popular with the already wealthy. Huge mansion type buildings were developed, around small natural and some man made lakes. A small upmarket mall was built, replacing the few family run shops, an elegant sports centre opened, with a floating restaurant on a lake, with a pretty artificial beach for sports centre members to enjoy.( The floating restaurant has long gone.... I used to love it ).

Bathroom fittings....and very high quality bathroom fittings were designed and built in Kohler. Now....in hotels and public buildings, offices and in homes, in many US cities, and some European cities.....check the name printed in the toilet..... A large percentage of them will have Kohler Co. printed on them. I always feel at home if the bathroom fittings are Kohler !

a Kohler sink at the JMKohler Arts centre......an interesting piece !

The Kohler family ran the company....and the village....although, of course, there is a village board. The family support and sponsor art, theatre, music, as well as continuing to run the factory. There is an excellent arts centre in Sheboygan, called the John Michael Kohler Arts centre, and the Kohler Memorial Theatre thrives in Kohler itself.

The Kohler-Andrae State park is nearby...along the coast of lake Michigan and River Wildlife is an area of 800 acres of wilderness that the company developed for the village. The Kohler family is all encompassing. It is impossible to live in the area, or even just visit the area without being aware of the Kohler family.

me....with very orange hair.....on the beach at the Kohler-Andrae state park.

I think my view of it all is as complicated as my view of 19^th century British industrial philanthropy....some great things have been provided.....including amazing wealth for the Kohlers.

In the 50s there was a strike at the factory ( which of course, was not unionised at the time ). I have been told stories of splits in families, which still survive today, stemming from the strike....brothers who never spoke to each other again, as well as sons and fathers who became bitter enemies.

Herb Kohler Jnr., great grandson of J.M.K. has featured in my life. My great friend Darlyn, who lived in one of those original Kohler homes all her life, had regular run ins with him, and the village board, as they tried to do things of which she did not approve. Darlyn’s father had worked at the factory, and had bought one of the early houses to be built in the village..... at the factory end of School Street.

Darlyn, indicating that she was in residence.

A few years ago Herb provided some funding for the Kevin Costner film “ Open Range” . The film had its world premiere in Sheboygan ( it’s pretty unlikely that anything like that will ever happen again in Sheboygan’s 8^th St. picture house ).

Herb Kohler jnr.

 Hollywood came to town that weekend. Herb Kohler hosted a reception in one of the stunning Kohler owned hotel areas ( it wasn’t actually at the American Club, but at a sort of Gentleman’s Club affair.... I don’t remember the name... I just know that to stay there cost an arm and a leg). Interestingly, Herb was given a bit part in the film...he was a bar tender. Clearly, putting up the money for the film gave him some interesting, and not just financial, rewards.

 

Darlyn bought Mark and I tickets to attend this reception.( I think they were $200 each..... and this must be at least 15 years ago, I was outraged at the outlay she had made, but she wanted us to have the experience, and she loved showing off “her village” ). Darlyn arranged for us to be picked up from her house in a horse drawn carriage, to be taken to said reception. I remember the carriage being directed to the entrance of the stunning residence, whilst guests who had driven their own cars, were directed to a car park and then ferried to the entrance in golf buggies.

As our carriage drew up at the house, photographers appeared, and people stared at us.... not knowing who on earth we were..... just that we were important to have arrived in better style that Kevin Costner himself.

me looking ridiculously adoringly at Kevin Costner

It was quite a night, and Kevin Costner was gorgeous.

Mark and Kevin Costner discussing something very important

Kohler is lovely. However, it has become a rich person’s playground. Golf courses, luxury spa developments, and of course the overpowering presence of the American Club itself dominates the “village”.

For me, its loveliness was sitting on Darlyn’s front porch, sipping a glass of wine with her, as we put the world to rights..... and that included the Kohlers.

A very young Jess, laughing at Darlyn and I, who were gossiping and drinking wine on the front porch.

 

 

Last chemo session

Tomorrow I will receive my 6^th   and last bout of chemotherapy. When I went to have my blood count checked yesterday, I told the phlebotomist it was in preparation for my last chemo session.

He said “ You hope.”

I said, “No, I know.”

He said, “So you’re in remission are you ? “

I said, “No.....it’s gone”.

I added in my head....and “It’s not coming back.”

 

( The nurse in the above photo is not real.....it is daughter Jess, on the Emmerdale set, where she had a part as an extra, playing a nurse, earlier this week)

I know I am very lucky that my surgery was able to remove my cancer, but I also know, because of the strain and the stage it was at, that there is a chance it might come back. I have not wanted to know any statistical evidence of % rates of return....it’s either 100%, or 0% depending on whether it comes back or not. I am determined to be in the 0%......it will not return. Of course, if it does... I shall deal with that, but I don’t need to even think about that now.

Today, I am cancer free.

The radiotherapy treatment starts exactly 20 days after the last chemo. It is a high dosage braccytherapy treatment, more specifically focussed than the external beam kind, and involves 6 treatments, from Wednesday to Wednesday, with a break at the weekend. This means that in 3 weeks 6 days time all the risk reduction treatment will be over, and Mark and I will get our lives back again.

We have been on hold. Everything has revolved around me, my cancer, my treatment, the state of my immune system, what I have fancied to eat, and how I have been feeling. I cannot wait to merge into the background, pay attention to other people’s priorities, and enjoy watching and actively participating in the lives of my family and friends again.

Family and friends and blogging friends have been so supportive since that strange day just a week after Jodie’s wedding, when it seemed that my world was completely unravelling. I can never thank people enough for how cared for they have made me feel. Mark is surely a saint. I should write to the Pope immediately and get the process started.

I’m sure I will blog about my recovery again, and how the infamous “ cancer journey” has affected my life.....but for the time being....

Today I am cancer free,

and normal life is about to be resumed.

Welcome back to normal life.......according to Clark.

 



Daft as a brush in Liverpool

 

In my last feeling good window, we went to France for a week. This time, we spent a few days in Liverpool, to coincide with daughter Jess’s last performance of her drama degree course. It seems ridiculous that her 3 years as a drama student only has a couple of months left to run. Leaving her at her halls of residence for the first time feels like about 6 months ago, not 3 years.

Jess, in her last ever play at uni..... "We Dark Horses"....she played a bank robber, here being threatened by her co bank robber.....who she eventually shoots dead.

 Jess’s ambition has been to be a drama student, and she is heartbroken that it is nearly over. However, as well as all those “transferable skills” she has developed.....( let’s not kid ourselves, a drama degree was pretty unlikely to lead to a job !) .....she has made some wonderful friends, she has come to love Liverpool with a passion, she has had amazing fun, she has learned a great deal about theatre, drama, politics, the world and society,and of course, she has grown up. She was a pretty mature 19 year old when we dropped her off there 3 years ago, having done a fair bit of independent travelling and working in a gap year after A levels. Now, she is nearly 22, daft as a brush sometimes, but with a sensible head on her, she appreciates the advantages she has in life, cares about other people and is looking forward to the next stage in her life, training to be a teacher.( Albeit with considerable regret that she can’t be a drama student for a few more years).

We combined seeing her performance with some sight seeing. Liverpool is a very exciting city. Our hotel was on Hope St. which connects the 2 cathedrals. I love the way they look at each other, sort of anchoring the city, so different, and seeming to respect each other’s magnificence, but maintaining their distance.

 

We went to the Catholic cathedral, having spent time at the Anglican one last time we were in Liverpool. I love the colours, the light,  and the complete turnabout in design from the  Lutyen’s cathedral originally planned for the site.

 

 

 

We went to a Glam rock exhibition at the Tate, on the dramatic Albert Docks.

Albert Dock, the Liverpool Tate Gallery on the far left.

We spent time discussing whether we had realised that we had lived through such an important cultural phenomenon,  as we spent our late teen age and early 20s during the 70s. Suddenly Celia Birtwell, Ossie Clark, David Bowie, Andy Warhol, the New York art scene, attitudes towards gender, and the final UK legalisation of homosexuality all linked together. The make up and clothes I wore and the music I listened to in those far off days felt far more significant than they had seemed at the time.

 

The Walker Gallery

 We went to the Walker Art Gallery and saw an impressive collection of 7 screen prints disseminated from 7 days of following Obama’s first presidential campaign.

An unexpected display at the entrance to the Walker Art gallery

 We saw a small collection of fabulous clothes collected by a Liverpool doctor’s wife in the first half of the 20^th century. Some of the items were sheer fabulous Hollywood glamour, but were apparently never worn by the shopaholic woman, as they were considered far too glamorous for someone in her position. My heart went out to her... imagining her showing her husband her latest purchase, only to be told...."Well you’re not wearing that out in public".

One of the best bits of Liverpool on this trip was the liveliness of the coffee shops and tea shops where we stopped for frequent refreshments. Best of all was the cafe connected to the Catholic cathedral. It was buzzing when we entered. The food was good, the place was heaving with people chatting, and laughing. The atmosphere was amazing. Jess tells me that it is basically because people in Liverpool love talking to each other ! It is such a lively and sociable place.

view from our hotel window

The weather made the trip quite interesting too. It was very cold the whole time we were there... but the view from our hotel window changed a few times during our stay.

 

and

 

Our next visit to this lovely city will be for Jess’s graduation in July. We’ve booked the same hotel and are planning to spend another couple of days enjoying time here. No wonder Jess loves it so much.

 

 I don’t think there’s much chance of getting her to live  back in Yorkshire for a while yet !

Jess, with her daft as a brush head on, pointing to some of the photos of her most recent performances.
 

 

The week that just flew by.

We did worry it might snow all week

We are so pleased we made the decision to go to Caunes for a week before my next chemo session. We were worried about the snow forecast, about whether the house would take ages to warm up after 6 months of being locked up, whether my low immunity would cause any problems and whether the journey would just be too much for me.

There were no problems.... even though the flight was rerouted and we had to land in Perpignan instead of Carcassonne due to poor visibility and ferocious winds. The infamous Ryanair came up with the goods yet again, and we stepped off the plane, straight onto a coach which took us back to Carcassonne to our awaiting taxi.

The house was very warm... a friend had put the heating on a couple of days earlier....everything worked, and the freezer was full.....everything was wonderful.

It was cold...but the house was warm....and so is the coat. This is me, sitting on my dad's bench...known as "Mike's bench" grinning away, so pleased to be back.

On Sunday, when we arrived, it was very cold, the wind howled and the snow arrived. On Monday, it snowed most of the day, so we stayed in, did a few “house jobs” ...well Mark did, and I supervised.

 

1st picture shows Mark, drilling ....under my instructions, to hang a new tapestry....not French, bought last week in Hebden Bridge.

On Tuesday, the sun came out. It was still cold, but just seeing those blue skies was very uplifting. We wandered around the garden, checking out the work that has been done since we were last here. Dead trees ( killed in last year’s freeze) have been removed, a pergola and new decking have been built, a new terrace at the back of the house has been started, new wide paths created in various parts of the garden  and some very serious pruning and clearing has been done.

 

 

 

On Wednesday, the weather was glorious. Blue skies, a little warmer, and bright bright sunshine. We headed off for Castelnaudary, via Saissac  and then onto Mirepoix. The Black Mountains were spectacular, and the snow which had mostly melted in Caunes, was beautiful. We stopped to look at castles, churches, war memorials, panoramic views, buzzards, for coffee and for lunch......all the things we love to do when out for a mooch around.

Memorial to war widows and orphans, Castelnaudary



Saissac



Mirepoix

On Thursday we went to the Carcassonne depot du vente and bought a corner cupboard for the living room....partly as somewhere to hide the TV’s set top boxes, but also because we liked it and thought it fitted well with our other furniture.

 We also saw a pretty nouveau style bureau, that I wondered about....but left in the shop. Needless to say, we returned later....and bought that too.

On Friday, the skies were greyer, but the temperature was rising. Mark played golf, and I played with the house... made some marmalade ( no Seville oranges unfortunately...but I managed to make it a little tangy by adding more lemon), arranged various books and ornaments in and on the new pieces of furniture, read...and generally lazed around.

 

In the evening we had arranged to call in on a friend made when I was in Caunes, alone, last summer. I had gone to one of the village concerts, planning to miss the arranged meal, as I was on my own and felt a bit strange, not knowing anyone. However, when I got there, the meal hadn’t even started, and one of the organisers just put me on a table with some other English speakers. Erin was one of them ! Erin has lived in France for many years and in Caunes for the last 5 or 6. We have been in touch since I met her that evening last summer, and she has phoned and e-mailed and been very supportive through my illness. So, it was lovely to see her again, and to meet John, in her beautiful home in Caunes, where her impressive and dramatic art work adorns the walls, and her Irish American French hospitality was delightful.

During the week we ate at our favourite restaurant in the village twice...the only place open at this time of year.....and we wandered through the streets to see if anything had changed since we were last there.... it hasn’t.

Caunes

Then on Saturday, our last day, we went to Limoux, which has to be one of my favourite spots in the whole region. Whenever we go there, something is going on. I have blogged about it a couple of times in the past. This visit was just as fascinating. The Limoux Carneval was still on... it takes place every weekend from January through to the end of March. It is a very odd celebration. Our taxi driver ( we have the same on every time we go to and from the airport... so we know him pretty well by now ) told us that no one really understands it...it is as much a mystery to locals as it is to us. Last year there were priestly castrations observed, this year, nothing quite so dramatic....laughing cows, and sparkling wine drinking children, hippies, soldiers , firemen, farmers and several competing brass bands. This year we sat, in glorious sunshine, and ate lunch in the square, whilst it all went on around us.

 

Then, suddenly, our week was over. It was a huge success, and any worries we had about the trip vanished more or less as soon as we arrived. It has done us both so much good. Now, I can’t wait for my treatment to be over, so we can get back there for a few months, rather than a few days.

 

At last....

This isn't a proper post....just to let you know, I'm finally back in Caunes. It's only for a week, in the infamous 'window of well feeling' between chemo sessions.

I can't believe how good it feels.We had snow when we arrived, but within 48 hours the sun was out and the skies were beautifully blue. The house and garden look great, the TV, the phone, the internet are all working. The battery was flat on the car, but a quick over night charge sorted that.......so everything in the garden is rosy.

I will post properly about this quick visit to my favourite place in the world later on, when I get back to England...but I thought the following photos had to be shared straight away.

Me, in Saissac...checking out more Cathar castles, yesterday

Vomiting Gargoyle in Castelnaudary

 

Don't tell Titus

About 30 years ago, I discovered Saltaire, just outside Bradford. I honestly believed that no one else in the world knew about it.

It was clearly a small Victorian town, planned along, almost US type grid lines.... and seemed to have been built to house mill workers at what was then, 30 years ago, the completely derelict Salts Mill.

 

I was fascinated. I saw two cassocked priests playing badminton over a net strung between lampposts on the drive way up to the rather gorgeous church.....but apart from them, I saw hardly anyone.

No badminton playing vicars when I took this photo....but those are the lamp posts where they had strung the net.
 

Many of the houses were boarded up, the patches of green, between the derelict mill and factory buildings were overgrown, and the whole place had a feeling of the Marie Celeste.

However...the historian (well, history teacher) in me, recognised something special about the place.

The mill buildings were huge...the biggest I had ever seen. I later discovered that it had been the biggest factory in Europe when it was built.

 

The houses were solid, good Victorian stone buildings. They had interesting  and decorative arched window and door features. Each street contained dozens of small 2 up 2 down artisan classic well built terraced houses, but at each end of the street were larger, more imposing buildings.

 

The names of the streets fascinated me too.Not just the usual Coronation St, Sebastopol Terrace and Victoria Road that could be found in any old Victorian street plan.....but Ada St., Caroline St., and Titus St.

 

The mill buildings were in a valley.....water rushing past, a clear power source, the canal ran through the valley.....as did the railway......it all started to fit together. This had clearly been a huge industrial centre......and various images began to emerge from the grander buildings that I kept coming across.

Lamas featured heavily.....and a few other woolly looking beasts...alpaccas..they featured on coats of arms hidden within the grime of the buildings.

 

At the bottom of the valley, even lower down that the factory buildings, and the canteen, the hospital building , the church, and the public assembly rooms, there was a park.....very Victorian in lay out.....flower beds, walk ways, tree lined avenues, and beyond....the hills....and the vast Yorkshire sky.

 

All of this could have been seen from the huge windows in the main factory building. My understanding of 19^th century factory conditions, was that workers were not encouraged to look out of windows. In fact most would have had very little natural light to have worked by. They slaved away at their looms for 12 -14 hours a day,no looking out of windows allowed.

Everything I saw smacked of Victorian philanthropy......decent solid houses for workers, a factory with light, and views of the hills and the sky, somewhere for workers to worship, to meet and socialise, to walk at the weekend, out of the city.

It did all fit. As it happened I apparently had not discovered Saltaire. Possibly, a bit like Columbus did not discover America.

In the church I found a brief poorly produced leaflet explaining how Titus Salt had envisaged this model town for the workers in his factory.  He wanted his workers to be healthy, partly for his own benefit of course, but also because he was genuinely philanthropic.The church, where Titus is buried, was finished before anything else, and although workers were allowed a day off, and the park was built for them....they were not allowed to drink alcohol anywhere in Saltaire. There were no licensed premises...no beer halls for Titus’s workers.

The streets were named after his children, and the larger houses, dotted along each street were for the factory supervisors. So the workers were supervised at work and at play.

 

He imported exotic south American fibres and contributed massively to the Yorkshire textile industry....and his own wealth.

Now of course..... 30 years from my discovery......Saltaire is a tourist destination. The fabulous redeveloped Salts Mill is the centre for a fabulous Hockney gallery. Brilliant use has been made of the vast floor space that was the original mill building. Beautiful books, art, pottery, rugs and tapestries can be viewed and bought there. Operatic arias played on the ground floor gallery fill the space, accompanying the tourists looking at the Hockneys .Gorgeous meals can be eaten in the lovely restaurant on the top floor, diners able to look out across the mill roof, and to the hills beyond.

 

Mark, browsing....imagining those looms.

 

Now, it is also possible to drink alcohol within the town boundaries.....and a clever wine bar owner has called his bar “ Dont tell Titus”.

 

I love this place, partly because it represented real improvement in living and working conditions for Bradford’s textile workers, albeit for Titus Salt’s profit.....but mainly because I discovered it.

Round 4

A quick update....things are going well. I am still having a period of feeling reasonably well in between chemo sessions, able to “lunch” with friends, visit grandchildren, bake cakes and make marmalade, as well as managing gentle sessions at the gym....so, not too bad. We are actually hoping to get to France for a week before session 5.

Mum....Joy 1931 -1983

It has been strange to spend Valentine's day...also 30th anniversary of mum's death, hooked up to the chemo machine.....but it was very relaxing, staff were brilliant...again......not really a bad way to spend a day.

 

 

4 down, 2 to go.......Who says walking on water is hard ? Apparently anything is easy if you have the right shoes.