Tuesday, July 31

notes from a small island in retrospect...

random note #3:

after finishing up our crafty days of workshops, we headed back to Rachelle's ram-shackled farmhouse in North Yorkshire. it would be true to say several things. thing one: the weather was not kind to us but this did not dampen our spirits. (although i must confess working on the book's last minute proofs etc was not easy for me on the road and at times it got me down. thankfully my book writing buddy was on top form and did a peachy job of things. hurrah hooray for having a book writing buddy of the utmost kind.) thing two: life with Rachelle, her clan and many many critters is never ever dull. (little olive is now thinking of packing her suitcase and sailing across the pond after i showed her the daily thrillingness at Rachelle's abode)

the view from marvlous maude shrouded in yorkshire mist
the inners of maude make for a most agreeable place to stay
i spent 2 nights in accommodation most fit for any granny chic loving soul. to be holed up in marvelous maude as the rain came down, all snug as a bug in my layers of granny chic finery was rather splendid. i think perhaps you may find it worth a ganders over here to see maude in all her glory but it comes with a warning. you may well be overcome with caravan envy upon perusal of maude in great detail... perfectly expected and quite normal, i tell myself


Friday, July 27

yesterday's dullness (according to little olive)...

yesterday morn, little olive announced she felt the long hot day ahead was not filled with thrilling things to do, but rather a long old catalogue of dullness. i begged to disagree but on second thoughts i felt she had a point. in an aid to address the impending dullness and show little olive the error of her thoughts, i turned to my friend Ivor the Ipad to record the day so i may 'showback' little olive's day to her. and with a bit of hope, make her realize her day was not dull but actually rather thrilling.

little olive's
thrilling day

helping Tif with emails

bobbing for ice~cubes when it all got a little hot and sticky
(surely it can't get any more thrilling than that for a little doggie!)

doing her impersonation of "Randy lay there like a slug" from 'a christmas story'

going to bed early due to such a thrilling day

thrilling day

making a bag using some lovely barkcloth from peachy Heidi dearie and a frock loved for years but no longer loved by my expanding derriere. the only thing to do so it no longer mocked me from my closet was choppity chop it up and enjoy it for longer, minus the mocking ways

sitting al fresco with issue 14 of UPPERCASE in the shade, with a nice cup of yorkshire tea

see plenty of thrillingness going on without a hint of dullness, however despite my best intentions, little olive still begs to differ...


Thursday, July 26

random notes from a small island in retrospect...

random note #2

a few weeks back, standing in the middle of the high street in Swanage, Dorset, staring into a store window decked out in fabby finery, i found myself in a predicament. it would appear i had the choice of two options. option one: go home and spend many many hours twiddling and fiddling around with small bits of fabric or option two: support an independent store doing its best to ride the wave of a very tricky dicky climate and spend some pennies. upon entering this fine emporium of bunting glory, all nicely entwined with pretty flower fairy lights and smelly candles, (not overpowering but rather a nice 'hint of a tint of a sniff to pleasantness', sort of candles), i was left with no options it would appear. i parted with my pennies, packed my lovely union jack bunting safely in my bag and went on my merry way.

as i traveled my homelands over the past month every where i passed was decked out in union jack finery, it warmed my heart to see a small island show its patriotic side with such pride. 

just one of many who are flying the flag in old blighty with pride
in four short days it will be 12 years to the dot i upped my clan along with my man to set sail for foreign climes. upon landing stateside i found myself marveling at being surrounded by such patriotism for one's homeland. the US flag flew loud and proud wherever i went and no matter what one may think about a country, its opinions and policies, one can't help but admire those who are happy to say loudly and proudly "i am from here and i am proud to be so". 

as i passed village after village, town after town this summer, i saw folks decking out their homes and their buildings with union jacks and saying proudly, we are British, we have a royal family worth celebrating and we have an Olympic games we are worthy of hosting. i felt most proud to come back to Mossy Shed and hang my 'string of home' many, many miles away from old blighty's unique, rather eclectic, and without a doubt, eccentric shores


Wednesday, July 25

random notes from a small island in retrospect...

random note #1:

whilst out and about pottling on two separate occasions, i happened upon three peachy brooches. now i am not a full on jewels kind of girl but i do like myself a nice brooch when i see one. 

three finds worthy of a mention
the first was found with my book writing buddy as we dripped our way around Spitalfield Market in london on one extremely hot day. having come down from up north on a cold morning, Rachelle had wisely donned her newly made granny wool coat only to arrive in the south where a mini heatwave was taking place. it was the start of our journey which would take us around the market, off to see lovely Cath for the night, onto the publishers next day, hopping on a train back up north that eve and followed by two crafty days at Hope & Elvis. however before all that, we chanced upon a nice little stall selling notions of this and that, with rather a lot of things to pin upon one's self. we both found a brooch to make us happy and for one small moment we were distracted from frocks sticking to our sweaty bods, swollen feet and heavy cases. i think that there shows the magic a peachy brooch upon discovery can have

found at spitalfield market on a hot and sweaty jolly day
around a week later i found myself on a very wet saturday morn pottling an antiques show with my folks, it was full to the brim with proper stuff and then amongst all the properness was the stuff i like. i had the good fortune of finding several items worthy of being squashed into my suitcase and none more so than two brooches, the likes of which i had been stalking for some time but never quite finding a good enough example with a good enough price tag.

my patient stalking ways paid off, the dearie behind the stall appeared delighted to have found a customer wishing to part with a few pounds on a dreary morning and after a bit of sweet talking, reminiscing about the beauty of how things used to be made and the quality and care, she felt me worthy an owner of the brooches and gave me a sweet old deal.

a most delightful green brooch worthy of a summer cardi or two
my heart has never beat so fast in 44 years for an accessory or piece of jewellry. i'm not swayed by shiny things as such but the large black brooch with its stunning detail and design had me positively head over heels in love at first sight.

this right here is what i call a most magnificent example of a vintage brooch (said in my best antiques roadshow expert voice)
and despite the lack of Mr Sun this spring and summer for more than a sprinkled day here and there, i can't help but look towards the fall when i may don a thick cardi or coat, bling it up with my new 'let your clasp stay strong and let me never lose you down a drain or gutter' brooch. in the meantime i placed it in a most fitting spot where it may be admired along with its two other friends and i let my girls know only last week just how lucky they were to be one day inheriting such a fine array of brooches alongside of my collection of doilies. i noted upon my kind gesture neither of them fought over which brooches or doilies they had their beady eyes on particularly. 

even the backs of old brooches can cause me to feel a little light headed
 alas they are young and not yet wise to the wonders of a granny brooch or doily... all in good time, all in good time