Factory women. My mother used to work in the fettling department of Crown Lynn Potteries – stood eight hours in 30-plus heat then walked heavy home to cook, clean, wash, scrub, starch and iron – maxi-managing our mewling mob of ignorant ingrates.  A blue pound coin is what we must have. The hungry hippopotamus had swallowed me whole in recurring nightmares throughout my childhood – although I am not a committed surrealist. Honeycomb beeswax has to be one of the loveliest things – golden sweetness in the truest mathematic configuration.