Et cetera

Today as part of an exercise for Writing  and Spiritual Practice course and a reflection on our different senses I thought about ‘touch’
I was immediately taken back to the 1970s when I worked for a while in a paper mill founded in the 19th century.  Although it was recognised as producing the finest paper in the world; sadly Croxley Mill of John Dickinson did not move with the times.  It went into economic decline and out of business in the 1980s

When the paper had been made and cut; it progressed to the Salle where the paper sheets of various  sizes and quality was counted packaged before being dispatched all over the world.
The process was done by human touch.  The ladies began as apprentices when they left school. Counting each each sheet one at a time carefully so the precious paper was not damaged. If the paper was damaged in any way it would be repulped and the process would have to begin again; many days work would have been lost. The ladies became more experienced and quicker; in time they were able to sense the amount of paper before them with the touch of their finger tips.
These ladies were nationally renown for their skills and won many competitions in their time.

I will never touch a piece of paper without remembering those ladies as they stood in appalling working conditions at the end of a noisy factory floor; touching the paper before packing it  into boxes and brown paper; all made at Croxley Mill.

Tender touch leaves a formless trace.

Freely given, unmeasured

without condition or limit.

Remains an indelible mark

a lasting impression

as any mighty punch