hot=cold

lots of this

plus this

means no more of this

for this.

We get to use this

instead of this

 

until this.

 

marooned. . .with unseasonal snow. . .& without my new shoes

So
when I'm indoors (or sometimes outdoors for that matter)
I like to go barefoot
I love that s-t-r-e-t-c-h of toes against the ground
and feeling a little lift as you walk.
If I've managed a careful pedicure with glittery red polish
and not smudged it by being impatient
that makes me smile too.

I tried flip-flops but scooted down the stairs once too often
when they transformed into skateboards.
Ever grateful for Tesco's BOGOF offer
on frozen peas- one bag for sprained ankle and
the second (free one) for my bum. . .
never mind Birds Eye Finest- more like Birds Eye View!

Well
all I wanted to do was get the big cake tin down from the top shelf.
Lucky enough to have a walk-in larder,
I pulled a chair from the kitchen
(the top shelf is a high top shelf)
and climbed aboard.

First I caught a tin of tomato soup (Heinz of course)
with my dressing gown sleeve
which rolled into a jar of pickled onions (Ted's of course)
which fell into my cinnamon sprinkler.

The tin of soup tottered off the shelf
gathering speed as it spun
and bounced off my ankle before landing upright on the floor
denting at one edge and gently leaking tomatoey goo all over the concrete.
My ankle bled like a stuck pig.
The jar of onions and cinnamon sprinkler cascaded from the shelf
in an awesome display of synchronised diving
and landed on the floor, avoiding the tin of soup but breaking on impact.

Gritting my teeth and reminding myself why I was there
I pulled at the cake tin on the top shelf
forgetting it had Christmas decorations stored inside from the last time used
and showered myself, the shelves,
the packets of cereals and store-cupboard staples in silver Santas and snow.

Soooo
I'm marooned, barefoot and bleeding on the kitchen chair in the larder.
Covered in snow.
The floor is awash with broken glass, broken china, broken Santas, pickled onions
tomato soup and a lavish sprinkling of cinnamon.


The phone rings. . .can't answer that, it's in the kitchen.

There's a knock at the front door. . .
can't answer that, I'm still in my dressing gown haha!

If only I'd been wearing my NEW SHOES!!!

I'm-not-buying-just-looking. . .

Saturday morning I met Julie for coffee and a catchup

Two doors up from Costa,
the United Reform Church was holding a Coffee Morning
so we went in there and had
latte, fruit tea and gorgeous ginger flapjacks all for £1.20

The lady at the next table had brought her knitting
as you do
and we giggled and gossipped and decided church coffee mornings
were the way to go
and Morning Coffee was the new Afternoon Tea

Then we thought a quick troll round the shops would be in order
"not to buy- just to have a look"
(why do we even bother to say that?)
and headed for the rather nice shoe shop

Now, I spend the winter in wellies, sheepskin biker boots,
black riding boots and as many pairs of socks
 chilblains will allow

between seasons its brogues and woolly tights

Summer wear is scuffies, flip-flops

and for special girly  occasions. . .
ballet flats

So how come
when they're high
and not what I wear
when its cold and wet and not at all summery
and there's no room for socks or tights (woolly or otherwise)
and my toes look like Hobbit's feet
when I can't walk in them
when my back will hurt
and my gammy knee will get gammier
and my ankles will twist
and I'll fall off them without any straps
and I was
not-buying-just-looking
(honest)

how come I came home with these?

a soldier sweetheart?

never guilty of an underactive imagination, I'm totally captivated

by this dainty silver mesh handbag

with gently swirling flowers and the name E SHORE 1916

engraved on the frame. 

1916. . .WW1. . .Battle of the Somme. . .

20,000 British casualties on the first day alone. . .

boys marching into death before their lives had even begun.

Did he buy it for her wedding day,

the dashing Captain Shore?

To walk side by side down the aisle on his next leave

thoughts of battle clouded by her gentle beauty.

A few short day of heaven

a heartbreaking farewell

and return to indescribable hell.

And did she get to wear it,

this token of undying love?

Did she get to love him

 for years and years and years

and grow old in eachother's arms?

Or was he only a memory

wrapped in tissue, tied with ribbon, blessed with tears

and laid to rest in a bottom drawer.

 

Until I saw the tiny number 800 stamped inside the frame

I hadn't realised it was silver.

800 silver was commonly used for jewellery making

in France and Belgium in the early 20th C

Alas, "needs must" at the moment so the purse is offered for sale

on Ted and Bunny eBay

I shall be very, very sad to see it go. . .

would you know the answer?

so here's the picture. . .


me and my girlfriends having a good goss when we were asked to make up a team for the Village Hall Quiz'n'Chilli Night


Noooooooooooooo says I (with a very capital N!!)


Memory cells?
they got swapped for the muffin-top in that free Prize-Draw you automatically enter at 50
(not that I retained much even when they were intact)


"Don't be silly"
said Stacey


"it's not as if they'll ask really difficult questions like
what did you do last Wednesday. . ."


xx

Friends Re-United

These magnificent carriage horses are a matched pair of Lipizzaners

named Silver and Stuza, and they're Bruce's stable companions.

Both horses are as gorgeous in character as they are in appearance,

although after a day in the field they're not quite so Persil white!

Kind calm and generous with impeccable manners

they adore cuddles, gently moving nearer and nearer in the stable

to politely ask for a neck scratch or muzz rub.

Their appreciation of having a personal slave to locate

an itchy spot is only rivalled by their appetite for

extra strong mints!

Stuza is English born and bred and Silver came from Hungary

(I've often wondered how long it takes foreign horses to learn a new language?)

Their devoted mum Joanne ran a successful wedding carriage

business until The Boys had to retire

due to the onset of age-related arthritis

Unable to afford new horses while keeping the oldies

in luxurious retirement (they're now 24 and 26)

 she recently made the reluctant decision

to sell the carriages and harness and posted this YouTube montage

as a showcase for potential buyers.

It's so upliftingly romantic I thought you might like to watch it

and then I'll tell you the happy ending. . .

The first person to phone about the harness

asked if one of the horses was named Stuza

because he seemed familiar. . .

This man had bought Stuza as a gangly yearling,

broken him to harness, sold him 6 years later

and after two decades still recognised the old boy.

Next week he's coming to visit!

Friends & Nags Re-United!

Ode to a Camellia

I'm very sorry dear Camellia

but I just don't like you.

I want to smile when I see you

and tend your soggy blooms

knowing we'll probably spend many more years

living together in total dis-harmony

but try as I might

I just don't like you.

A thoughtful gift (they thought)

I created a special bed for your tender roots

with neither morning sun nor chill wind

in a place free from rabbits and deer

and soil that didn't suit

and thanking me the way you do

you flourished and flowered

and flourished some more. . .

and yet still I don't like you.

I don't like your fat plain green foliage

I don't like your municipal blooms

that look like used toilet tissue when they fade

and you're the only shade of pink

in the whole wide world

that I don't like.

I have no green fingers

I can't even look after a houseplant

or a cactus

or a Christmas tree.

My runner beans were has-beans

roses remain thorns

potted herbs become dried herbs

bulbs refuse to bloom

bay trees without bay leaves

and yet you,

despite drought and deluge

frost and snow

cats and chickens

are my one gardening triumph

the pinnacle of Gertrude Jekyll aspirations

the only living thing left to show for my garden makeover.

And still,

in spite of everything you've done,

 the generosity you've shown

the bees you've fed

the frogs you've sheltered

and the eyesore corner you've filled

I just 

don't

like you

Dairy House Thank You!

A great time was had by all at the Dairy House Textile Day!

The sun shone bright and clear, the sky was blue and the wind icy
but bravehearted customers wrapped up against the chill
to buy from our sun-drenched stalls outside
before seeking refuge inside the huge building!

I forgot my camera. . .
but pics are here on Lizzie's blog
and I'm sure many others will appear
as stallholders write during the week.

Big thanks and hugs to Sue and Woo,
and to Gilly for a great lunch!
xx

ps
the next great fair will be
The Vintage Bazaar in Frome
on Saturday 21st!

Off to Dairy House Costume & Textile Day on Sunday!

I have a stall at the Dairy House Day on Sunday

and amongst the piles of vintage fabrics and hangers of clothes

I thought I'd squeeze in some summery goodies

and gardening favourites

I've also got THE most delicious

French wooden wheelbarrow to take, glorious in its original chalky paintwork

but I couldn't manage a photocall without hail showers!

hope to see you there!

xx

too much alcohol saved our family!

 Ted's grandfather "Louie" Lewis

was a merchant seaman, and in 1912

he signed-on in Southampton as a stoker

for Titanic's maiden voyage to America

On the eve of embarkation he took himself

to the local pub for a celebratory

drink. . .or. . .two. . .or. . .more. . .

and more. . .

and was so inebriated he never made it to the port

needless to say he got into a great deal of trouble

but only for a very short while!

unashamedly, it's mossy love for me

It doesn't matter how many paint effects we discover

with scumble glazes and rubbing back and shabby chic treatments

or how many paint colours Annie Sloan, Farrow & Ball and Fired Earth

try to tempt us into buying

the thing that really

REALLY

REALLY

gets me

is Mossy Love

provided completely free of charge

by Mother Nature herself.

Thank you for my damp, moss covered garden

it might not always be bright and cheery with colourful blooms

but its truly mossylicious and I just love it!