Let’s hope

“uni solitudinem faciunt, pacem appellant”  

where they create a desert, they call it peace

(Words ascribed by Tacitus to Calgacus, the Britons’ leader. Thank you Dave, my resident classicist.)

I hope this is the beginning of a safer and more peaceful time for Palestinians in Gaza and the West Bank, though I can’t believe in the peace deal, or rather I don’t believe in the honesty and trustworthiness of Nethanyahu and his government. And if the ceasefire holds, who is going to be in charge of Gaza? It doesn’t look as if it will be Palestinians. 

I’m sorry to be so pessimistic. At the very least more aid will enter and people will eat. I hope with all my heart that more good things will follow.

Yesterday I woke up and read the news and it was all so bad I could hardly face the day. The world and its future looked so bleak I didn’t want to be here to see it. I get like that from time to time.

Dave was out for the day, so I rang Liz and she told me I must have at least one treat and send her the evidence. Just talking to her helped. I managed to get up eventually and made soup, and cheese scones (the treat) to go with it.

They were disappointing. Does any one have a recipe for cheese scones that rise and taste really cheesy? Serious request. If I’d had the car I would have driven to Chatsworth Farm Shop and bought one of their scones. 

Anyway, today is a new day, and Dave and I are going to see old friends in Nottingham. Dave was Keith’s best man in 1970. How ancient are we?

Thank you for being there, friends. I always feel better for writing the blog.

Angry

 I’m feeling too angry with Starmer at the moment to write a post. But I have written to Keir Starmer.

Dear  Keir Starmer,

In asking people not to protest about the genocide in Gaza on the anniversary of the horrific Hamas attack two years ago, you are conflating Jews and Judaism with the criminal actions of Nethanyahu and his supporters.

This conflation increases the chance of antisemitism and attacks on Jews. 

It is perfectly possible to be horrified by the Hamas atrocities of two years ago, and the antisemitic attacks on Jews in this country, at the same time as being horrified by the ongoing genocide being committed by the Israeli state right now.

Do Palestinian lives not matter? Are Palestinian children disposable?

Your inhumanity and intransigence in continuing to deal with Israel, in ongoing trade and in giving military support, is shocking, despicable, and it makes me ashamed to be British. It is not the protesters who don’t represent British values, it is you.

The majority of the British people, and ordinary people all over the world, are appalled by the genocide in Gaza. Aren't you? If you are, then take some action!

Yours sincerely 
Sue Hepworth (Mrs)

The conscience of the world

 The news of the flotilla was the first thing on my mind this morning, and I texted my aging hippie friend in California with a link to the live feed about it in the Guardian. She had texted earlier in the week:

This is what the Israelis said to one of the boats in the flotilla: 

“If you continue in your route and attempt to breach the naval blockade, we WILL stop your vessel and act to confiscate it through legal proceedings in court.”

The moving response was this:

“We are here with the conscience of the world, moving peacefully in a non-violent humanitarian mission to take this aid. You are not allowed by international law to stop us. Therefore we do not comply with your request, because your request is still an attempt to perpetuate the genocide of the Palestinian people.”

The latest news I can find is that although Greta Thunberg and others have been arrested, 30 boats are still sailing on towards Gaza.

How can it be that political leaders the world over let Israel perpetuate a genocide?

This world we are living in, in October 2025, is dark and violent, and I am sick at heart.

Avoiding the news

It was a good weekend, despite the fact that four good friends who were due to come to the exhibition couldn’t, all because of different, individual, emergency medical situations. How odd is that? 

But I had some interesting conversations, not just about the paintings, but about the PAINTING, if you see what I mean. 

And this painting sold:

This morning I am despairing over Starmer. What a dud.

We need leadership and inspiration, compassion and moral courage, not deaf, intransigent, more-of-the-same blah. 

I suppose it’s good news about the Labour Party conference voting - despite Starmer’s best effort at blocking it - that yes, it is a genocide, and the U.K. should be acting appropriately.

Led by Donkeys unfurled this banner outside Parliament last year

And looking at the news…why are outsiders going to be in charge of Palestine? What about Palestinians? 

I could go on railing about the news forever, but I want to enjoy my day, so…I shall have a bike ride, make a lasagne for our next refugee hospitality day, and start a new painting.

The sun rises in spite of everything.

Almost ready!

We’re almost ready for the weekend exhibition of this last year’s paintings. Dave did a sterling job as always of helping me display them. I really couldn’t do it as well without him and I’m not just talking about the practical jobs. He has a great eye for display.

Here are the two room set up and ready:

I wish you were all coming.It would be so nice to meet you all!

The Flotilla

 It is hard to find news of the Global Sumud Flotilla (the flotilla of steadfastness) sailing across the Mediterranean with aid for Gaza. I always have to search for it. Why is that?

Yesterday they were harassed again by drones and explosions and the jamming of their communications. But the good news is that Italy and now Spain have sent frigates to assist them. The flotilla will be entering dangerous waters soon, where previous attempts to reach Gaza have been stopped by the Israelis. The latter’s actions are so far outside international law already that I can’t think anything would stop them from physically harming the people on board the ships in the flotilla. These are ordinary people, trying to break the siege. Trying to shame their governments into taking effective action to stop the genocide.

Earlier in the week there was a general strike in Italy in support of Gaza. Did you hear about that? Why are these events not headlines? Ordinary people all over the world want their leaders to act to stop the genocide, and their leaders do zilch. What is wrong with them? Why do they tolerate so many crimes committed by Israel? I am outraged and sickened by their lack of compassion, and their lack of moral courage. 

While Rome burns

 I feel a little bit awkward this week, writing about domestic stuff, while Israel continues its barbarous persecution of Palestinians, but I personally need to read things that bring light relief at the moment so perhaps you do too.

I am feeling nervous about the upcoming exhibition. I don’t know why, when I haven’t been the last two times. Perhaps it’s because only one of the siblings seems to like my paintings and they’ve just been on a visit. Perhaps it’s because two of my biggest fans can’t come this year. Perhaps it’s because I am feeling old and things seem to get harder the older you get. 

Dave persuaded me to buy some more display stands to augment the ones I already have, and they are arriving this morning between 10.51 and 12.51. (!)

Dave said he’d assemble them as soon as they got here, and I suggested we wait till Friday. 

He said “We’ll do it today so you will have them assembled even if I die between now and Saturday.”

He was being serious.

I said: “If you are dead I shan’t be having the exhibition, you doofus.”

He said: “ I hope you will!”

This is what it’s like living with an Aspie.

My painting stuff, all tidied up.

OK

 Hello, friends. My kind big sister texted me yesterday to ask if I was OK because the blog has been quiet. I am OK. I’ve just been having a break.

I welcome the news that the U.K. has finally recognised the state of Palestine. I wish they had done it years ago.

More than this - oh so much more than this - I wish they would take some concrete action to stop the genocide. 

That’s all I am going to say about the issue today.

This coming weekend I have my art exhibition, and I thought you might like to see some of the paintings that will be on display. Here they are. They are all in acrylics and fairly large. Most of them are for sale.

Not for sale

Not for sale

Not for sale

Not for sale

The latest

The Sibs (my brothers and sisters) have been staying in the Peak District for a few days, which is why I haven’t blogged. I’ve been too busy having a lovely time. How lucky we are that we love each other enough to want to get together every year.

One place we visited together was Haddon Hall, a medieval Manor House, which has been the backdrop to several films, including my favourite version of Jane Eyre, with Michael Fassbender and Mia Wasikowska.

Spot Kath sitting in the courtyard:

And here are the four of them, with Pete and Jonty looking for fish in the river:

Meanwhile in London, there has been another mass demo about Palestine Action, with over 800 people arrested for sitting quietly, holding placards, saying: 

I OPPOSE GENOCIDE. I SUPPORT PALESTINE ACTION. 

One person there was Sue Parfitt.

And the Global Sumud Flotilla (Flotilla of Steadfastness) taking aid to Gaza by sea, has been attacked by a drone for the second time.

I just found this message from a Palestinian in Gaza, sent to the Flotilla:

And as if the genocide were of no importance, our Prime Minister is today hosting Isaac Herzog, the Israeli president, who has supported the actions of war criminal Nethanyahu, and has stated, amongst other lies, that Israel is not starving Palestinians. The world weeps… while political leaders of the world, with only a few exceptions, look in the other direction. 

Sitting in bed

It is 8.30 am and I am still in bed and feeling guilty I’m not up and about and busy, and neither am I reading important articles about refugees. 

Liz just texted me a photo of some ferns she saw on a walk yesterday and asked if I’d ever painted ferns, and I said “Yes!”

I put this painting in my last exhibition and there was little interest in it.

It currently lives on the landing, and every single time I come up the stairs I see it and think “I like you!” So I think I will keep it.

This painting is very popular and although I think it’s a good painting, I shan’t be sad if someone buys it. 

I have recently been looking at old photographs and came across this one of me that Isaac took, we think in about 1987. I love it!

This post has turned into a picture post, so here to finish is a photo of my friend Karen, the Aging Hippie who lives in California, on a Labor day demo. After it there is a clip from our texts to show the context.

Exhibition!

I’m having an exhibition of my latest paintings here at home, in a few weeks time. I’m inviting friends and family and regular blog readers whose names I know. 

The dates are:

Saturday September 27th   2 - 4

Sunday  September  28th   1 - 4 

Dave will be serving tea and cake, and there will be greetings cards of my paintings on sale in aid of Medical Aid for Palestinians.

If you’re a regular blog reader and would like further details, please message me on Instagram (@sue.hepworth)  or send me a private message on Bluesky (suehepworth.sky.social) using the Chat icon. I don’t publish my address on the blog.

Public transport around here - as in most rural areas - is very scant, so you’d probably need to come by car. 

Let your life speak

You know what?

It’s fine that I am a wuss. (See last post).

Everyone has their strengths and weaknesses. Everyone has something to offer.

Yesterday I was so tired that I didn’t do anything all day but varnish 5 paintings and read a book - Let your life speak - from cover to cover. The subtitle of the book is Listening for the voice of vocation and surprisingly for me, as I don’t read self-help books or much non-fiction, I found it gripping. 

I have been puzzling on what I am for, now that I am nearly 76. The central argument of the book is that vocation does not come from outside, it comes from within yourself, and the seeds of it are there when you are born, in your inherent nature. 

The author, Parker J Palmer, describes emerging from clinical depression and follows it with this paragraph:

 

Unsuccessful self-portrait 2021

He says we should look at the capabilities and dreams we had as children and young people to find out more about our vocation. This may take some deep thought. He says that if the way ahead is not clear, we can learn a lot from the doors that have closed behind us: that they can tell us as much about our vocation as the ones opening up ahead.

The book has given me profound encouragement. 

And now, as the sun is bright and warm I am going to get up and hang out the washing in my pyjamas.

p.s. washing out, and I want to say that I came across the book because my dear friend Het sent me a link to an interesting FT article which mentioned it. Her sharing - expressing her authentic self - helped me.

The good and the bad

Yesterday, almost three-year-old MsX and her parents came to visit and…

She played at sending cars down the gutter we keep behind the sofa for that very purpose, seeing which was the fastest;

I read her Dogger by Shirley Hughes;

Dave fixed up water play outside for her with the same gutter, and with boats which slid down it when you poured water behind them;

We picked a plum off the tree for her and her mum;

We came back inside again and played with the Fisher Price house and people, putting them to bed, giving them breakfast, taking them to the playground in the bus. They needed duvets so we raided my patchwork drawer, and then we didn’t have enough beds so I emptied the matchbox by the fire and we used that;

Dave came back inside and he read Dogger with MsX (currently the book du jour);

And so it went on, and finally it was time to go home and she didn’t want to go and said so, and I didn’t want her to go and didn’t say so.

This morning I was lying in bed dozing, and thinking about yesterday and all of our grandchildren and remembering playing with them when they were small, and I felt happy. 

Cece, me and Lux, 8 years ago

Then I sat up and read the news and felt awful.

Another war crime in Gaza. 

More poisonous anti-refugee rhetoric. 

More empty space from Starmer.

Dave says I should be disciplined and not read the news if it’s going to make me feel so low, but that’s not the Quaker way.

In our Advices and Queries book, number 34 reads…

“Remember your responsibilities as a citizen for the conduct of local, national and international affairs. Do not shrink from the time and effort your involvement may demand.”

When I was about 8 I had a book called Brave Quakers. 

I found it again when we cleared my mother’s house. The story-telling is really dated and I wouldn’t want to read it to kids today, but some of the (true) stories are inspiring. 

There were twenty Quakers arrested at the last big Palestine Action demo. They are braver Quakers than me. And even if being arrested for terrorism would not bar me from visiting our American family, I don’t think I would do this. I am not a brave Quaker. I am pretty much a wuss.

Picture captured from Instagram 

Letter from home

I am feeling depressed this morning. The news is so bad. Not only is there a permitted genocide playing out in Gaza, but there are right wing attacks and demonstrations against asylum seeker hotels. It’s so appalling. I understand why when this country is falling to pieces and people are having such a hard time that they resent people from another country being fed and housed, but why can’t they understand what asylum seekers are fleeing from? Where is the compassion? 

And where are the politicians speaking up and explaining that?

All Keir Starmer says is he is going to STOP THE BOATS and SMASH THE GANGS.  

Why isn’t he explaining who these refugees are and what they have been through?

Where is the positive talk about helping people in distress, about the international law we are signed up to, and the positive contribution that people from other countries make to our national life and culture?

And why aren’t asylum seekers allowed to work and support themselves?

Enough…here is the news from home.

I went on a wonderful three day art course in July and now I have signed up for a three zoom session course in September with an artist whose book I found on the art course, and bought, and am finding very helpful. He is called Paul Bailey and paints semi abstract landscapes in strong colours.

 His book is extremely helpful in that he goes through his process when painting paintings shown in the book - with specific colour choices, and tools used. He is so informative and very clear. 

I’ve decided I’m going to have an exhibition of my latest paintings and I’m excited because an exhibition feels like a party! I hope one or two of my loyal readers will come. It’s going to be the last weekend in September. More details later.

The lovely Jaine (daughter in law) and almost three year old MsX and I went to Chatsworth House Farm and Adventure Playground where MsX had a ball and I enjoyed her having a ball. She lightens my life. All of my grandchildren enhance my life but now the older ones are growing up and away, it’s such a treat to have a brand new little one plop into my life and for her to live so near to us. 

On Thursday Liz and I went out for breakfast and then drove to Minninglow, which is a small but very prominent Derbyshire hill surrounded by a ring of trees. On its summit there is a Neolithic chambered tomb and two Bronze Age barrows.  I have never been before but wherever I cycle or drive around here I can see Minninglow on the skyline. At the top of the hill inside the ring of trees it feels so special, so peaceful. Liz took this picture of me, unawares. 

After I’d got back home and had a nap I went for a bike ride. Oooh, I adore my electric bike. I am so so lucky to have one. I love being out in nature on my own. I attain some kind of peace. Then I come home and read the news and want to be dead.

We are swimming in unripe plums. They are all laid out in the bay window room to ripen on trays on the table and on the floor. We realised last year that we lose fewer to birds and wasps if we pick them like this and let them ripen off the tree. Fortunately they do not behave like those peaches and nectarines you buy from the supermarket which NEVER ripen.

These are just the ones on the table

At the moment we can keep up with eating them as they ripen, but when their ripening speeds up we are going to have to stew and freeze them because Dave doesn’t eat crumbles any more and I have never successfully made plum jam with any kind of flavour.

This is today’s haul - a jam pan full.

I’m in a troubling phase of wondering what my purpose is. Is it to enjoy myself because so many people my age (almost 76) have chronic ailments, and I am fit and healthy?