Hannah More

One night over a year ago I was having a hard time sleeping. It was too hot, my fan kept going on and off as the electric did the same and the dogs down the street kept breaking into Mexican bark waves.

So I got up and tried to still myself by lighting a candle. All was going well until the fan came back on and the steady, settled flame suddenly sparked into a spluttering, splattering glow-on-a-wick and dissolved in a stream of molten wax.

So I was peeved. And went back to bed again, peeved.

But then, just as the dogs had barked down and the fan was behaving, the name "Hannah More" came to mind. And not in a quiet, bat-that-thought-away-like-an-annoying-mosquito kind of way. More like a I'm-going-to-annoy-you-more-than-the-dogs-if-you-don't-at-least-get-up-and-google-me kind of way.

So google I did as Hannah More meant absolutely nothing to me. My only thought was that she might be a friend of a friend on Facebook. Or possibly a minor celebrity. But no, as it turned out, after the first few googlies linked her name with primary schools in Bristol, I soon discovered that she was a very well known Bristolian back in her day, who, amongst other things, was involved in the anti-slavery campaign as part of a tribe of writers, politicians, activists, artists, agitators and adventurers.

How interesting, I thought. And did a bit more research. Which, as time is running out for this post, I will expand upon tomorrow. As well as say more about things afoot that are bringing me back to Hannah and causing me to appreciate her example all the more ;-)