Meanwhile, there is an exhibition of embroideries by Mary Linwood (1755-1845) at Leicester Museum and Art Gallery, the first since 1945. Mary Linwood was a celebrity in her own time but has been largely forgotten since. Using the technique of needle painting, she created stitched versions of famous British paintings. As well as running a school for young ladies in Leicester, she also exhibited her embroidered works in touring exhibitions, and established the first gallery in London to be run by a woman. This is a stitched self-portrait.

There is an argument for leaving the Bayeux Tapestry in France, and going instead to Reading Museum. Here they have a replica, a project "undertaken by a group of Victorian embroiderers to recreate the Bayeux Tapestry in full, painstakingly reproducing every single detail, stitch-by-stitch, so that the Tapestry's timeless story could be enjoyed by the people of Britain". (Although there are in fact a few differences.)

With the plans to bring the Bayeux Tapestry from France to the British Museum later this year under the spotlight, the subject on the Post this week is embroidery - since  the Bayeux Tapestry is not actually a woven tapestry, but a 70 metre long embroidery worked with wool thread on linen. David Hockney has criticised this as "madness" due to the fragility of the artefact which is more than 900 years old, thus highlighting the issues surrounding preservation and conservation of textiles.

Frank Cooper's Oxford Marmalade is one of the most famous branded marmalades; Captain Scott took some on his expedition to the South Pole and it is mentioned in novels such as The Pursuit of Love and From Russia with Love. From 1903 it was made in the four-storey factory in Park Street, Oxford, which had separate sections for cutting, boiling and bottling - the photo shows female employees shredding oranges and wearing aprons and removable sleeves to protect their clothes. 

To make marmalade you need Seville oranges, sugar, water, a juicer, a sharp knife for slicing all the peel - and a good few hours. But as it is made only once, maybe twice, in January, the results - which last all year - repay the investment. Making Marmalade (1958, Museum of New Zealand) by Bernard Dunstan (1920-2017) captures the pleasure of unhurried preparation.