Away above the chimney tops...

So it seems that the good old rain timer has been set again to its twice daily "let's coincide with the school run to make things as miserable as possible" setting. Between 8.30am and 9am you can guarantee a downpour and similarly at 3pm.



I quite like walking in the rain, in many ways I prefer walking in it to driving in it. Little Sister is of a very different opinion and the journey home, up and down two hills and those 120 "secret steps" along the "Cat's creep" leading up to our house can feel like a marathon at the beginning or end of a school day when your shoes are squelching, your school bag and entire contents are soaked and your umbrella has once again folded in on itself...



However, there are moments like today, when I looked up to the sky, and found a multi coloured smile shining back at me through the grey clouds. Not just one but two (if you look very closely there were two rainbows waiting for me today). Not only did it work its magic on me but a very happy Little Sister was waiting for me at the school gates. Having spied the rainbows through the classroom windows, she pronounced categorically that the rainbow definitely ended in the school playground, I'm not sure if they will be spending the rest of the week scouring the playground for pots of gold but it certainly made the walk home a little cheerier.

A brighter shade of pink...

Hello! Hope you all had a good half term, if you had one. Ours was not as relaxing as we wished it to be. So lovely to have Little Sister back home again after her week away zip wiring, canoeing and forgetting to change her clothes... For Big Sister, however, it was somewhat of an assault course in terms of homework and coursework that needed to be completed before returning to school. Why oh why do they have so much to do in the holidays? She returned to school looking and feeling as if she needed a good break.



So we were unable to spend much of the time together, but there were a couple of times that we managed to get out and on each of these occasions I managed to embarrass both my daughters as only mothers do...
Little Sister and I went to see "Up" at the cinema. Thank goodness for the 3D specs is all I can say. My eyes were streaming from start to finish. I held my hand out as I thought that my daughter might need comforting, but not a tear had she shed. It seemed I was crying enough for the two of us. Well at least it was dark...



In the full gleam of the post office queue a couple of hours later, I found the December issue of "Homes and Gardens" magazine. Not having my glasses with me as usual Little Sister had to scour the contents of it for me to find my sachets. Yes! My sachets have been featured in the magazine this month (in the handmade gift ideas for Christmas). She then had to read very loudly to me what the article said etc (several times as I was so excited, much to her annoyance) and then watched my face turn from it's blotchy tear stained pallor to a very nice scarlet as I blushed with embarrassment! Hey ho, I'm sure it amused all the others in the queue...



At the weekend, I found out that Dottie and I were also featured in "Sew Hip" magazine. Further blushing followed and much whooping and skipping - yes I can understand why my girls find me a tad embarrassing.



Dottie and I have been very busy of late building our Christmas grotto and filling the shelves with all kinds of vintage festive loveliness. Please pop in and take a lot, I hear the elves are regularly updating the stock. Decorations, presents, stocking fillers, gorgeous vintage French haberdashery



and some lovely Christmas handmade items have been added throughout the Emporium too.


My new "Christmas Pudding" lavender sachets

To finish the week off, Big Sister and I went to see a special screening of "Bright Star". Sunday morning we arrived soaking wet at the cinema, drenched from a mad dash from home and settled down for a real treat. Please go see this film, it is absolutely beautiful. Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful... exquisitely filmed and beautifully acted. But please take your hankies, achingly sad. Again I sat and absolutely blubbed my way through this. There was one point when I thought I would not be able to contain myself and would weep outloud. Big Sister looked aghast as she could see what was happening to me but fortunately I managed to contain myself. Judging by the subdued faces leaving the cinema I was not alone.
I'm wondering now if my daughters think I'm too much of a liability to take anywhere...
Have a good few days.


(1950s Feathered Friends in our Grotto)

PS Just found that our Emporium is also mentioned in the Christmas shopping section in "Homes and Antiques" - time for me to go a deeper shade of pink, I think.

A Room of One's Own

Eighty years ago, on October 24th 1929, this book by Virginia Woolf was published. This copy of "A Room of One's Own" is one of my most treasured possessions. Old and tatty, but incredibly hard to find, it has sat on our shelves for many years now and will continue to do so, I hope. for many more. I wonder if Virginia Woolf, all those years ago, had any idea that the book she was writing would become so iconic? Would mean so much to so many people. If you haven't read the book , you know the title and all that it implies.



Reading all our blogs we all want our own space, workspace don't we. I've seen beautiful studios and workrooms that I've drooled over. I'm still to possess a room of my very own in which to sit and think and do. I share my room with my family. In my mind I have my room planned out, decorated, redecorated and furnished.... But I do have my own space really, my own "room". Maybe not a physical room, but the opportunity to do what I want, which is what I think the book is all about, having the chance to gain the independence and space that I want, something that was so lacking for women all those years ago.



Last week I listened to this wonderful piece of radio. If you get the chance listen to it, it's good. Very good. I listened intently to the piece about Virginia Woolf's home at Monks House. You may know that I love this place. I've written about it here before. Caroline Zoob, the incredibly lucky and talented Caroline Zoob, lives above Monk's House and was interviewed for the programme. She talked of Virginia Woolf's rooms of her own - her beautiful work room in the garden.



A room that was built for her, beautiful in its simplicity. Removed from the house, sitting in the middle of their gorgeous garden, she would walk here to her work and write her books. Simple and undistracting, I just love it.



Interestingly enough the other room in which she worked was her bedroom which is also physically separated from the main house, having to be accessed via a separate doorway. This is another beautiful, calm room that is simple and without too many distractions.




I listened enthralled as Caroline Zoob talked of regularly changing the flowers in the summerhouse where Virginia Woolf once sat and wrote her books. Sometimes you listen to something or read something and feel utterly transported and for a few minutes last week that happened to me.

Pumpkins & parties...

My goodness it's been a bit grey round here the past week or so. No tantalising glimpses of sunshine and to make matters worse my youngest daughter, Little Sister, has gone off for a week on a school trip and we all miss her so.... I have visions of her gripping on to cliff faces, rope in hand and sheer terror on her face, the reality is, I hope, that she has spent the past week up all night giggling with her friends. Can't wailt till Friday to collect her. Poor thing, I sent her off looking like the Michelin Man buried under a mountain of waterproof clothing and fleecy hoodies! (she won't thank me I know).



Just over a week ago there was lots of sunshine. We took Big Sister and a group of teenage girls camping for her birthday (thanks to all of you for your lovely birthday wishes, she had a very, very special day). Back to the camping - We returned to our favourite campsite and had booked two yurts on different fields, allowing the girls some independance and us some space from the noise (in the event they were really good and quiet, or so I'm told).
The girls' yurt was beside a babbling brook,



complete with swinging hammock,



beautifully made double bed,
Welsh dresser and cooker.



Ours was the yurt we'd camped in before in the beautiful tree lined spot that looked even more glorious in the golden Autumnal sunshine.



So we spent the weekend climbing giant haystacks (there was a wrestler called that, wasn't there?),



eating, swinging from trees, trampling through the golden, crispy leaves, eating, breathing out, long, deep breaths, playing table tennis, eating, laughing, eating, enjoying each other's company and eating!



I know you may have seen many of these views before,



but the sunlight and the dappled October shade, together with the most beautiful coloured trees just begged me to take some more photos!



We really didn't know where to look first.



Hot air balloons flying above us and landing in the next field... Pumpkins dotted around the campsite...



beautiful sunflowers still in bloom.



Tunnels full of the most exquisite gourds,



squashes and pumpkins,



Strange, exotic shapes,



beautiful mouthwatering colours.



Just look at those blue crates and orange pumpkins together!



We bought a variety to bring home



and once we had recovered from a weekend of binge eating we enjoyed the delicious and varying tastes of them.



It took a week to rid the clothes of the smell of woodsmoke... and now a week later I somehow miss it. Especially when I look out of the window and see the distinct lack of colour all around.
However, there are good things to look forward to - my little rose will be home tomorrow, my two roses will then be on half term (hurrah!) and in our Emporium there are exciting things afoot... and we're not just talking gorgeous vintagey Christmassy festive goodness!

Sweet Sixteen

"Can you smell bluebells?" "I can smell heaven."
If there was a scent to sum you up my darling 16 year old, this would be it. Happy, Happy Birthday to my very own Cassandra. The sweetest and loveliest of people. A true romantic with the kindest heart. Beautiful in every sense. As your best friend said, this is your year. Your year to shine. We love you so much and are so very proud of you, you gorgeous thing!

Sloe, sloe, pick, pick, sloe ... and repeat

BONKERS! That's the only word I can find to express how the past two weeks have felt! Not very eloquent I know but it's the word that comes to mind. A fortnight of highs and lows. Days of chasing my tail, dizzy from dithering followed by days of complete inertia, overwhelmed by what I've had on my list of things to do.



I think if the past 14 days were a game of snakes and ladders I probably would still be on the number one square having travelled down a fair few ladders along the way!



Anyway, enough. I don't even know if anyone will be reading this post. It seems as if I've been away for such a long time and have not visited any blogs that I can't really expect anyone to still be interested in mine. So many apologies - must, must try harder...



What I thought I'd do now is just share a moment or two of calm that happened last weekend. Last weekend when it still felt like summer instead of the sudden full stop to the season which we are experiencing today. Just when I needed to get out away from the computer and sewing machine most, Little Miss Sewrecycled called me to come out and play.



Off we went up to the Downs for a day of fun, frolics and sloe picking. Yes, the prospect of a winter without sloe gin was beginning to play on our minds.



Beautiful day, beautiful scenery and beautiful company, Just the tonic I needed. How good it was to be out enjoying the world. However... it was not to be, just as we started picking them sloes in earnest the Lovely SewRecycled had a call from school saying her gorgeous little boy was poorly. Quick dash home followed.



Not content with our pickings we decided the following morning to repeat the walk this time with all our families. So eight of us trooped up to the Downs, picnics in hand and lazed and picked and ate and laughed and played and walked and walked and walked. I hope these photos reflect just how beautiful the day was.



A sense of calm and escape came to us all and we returned home refreshed, sun kissed and relaxed. Thanks Sewrecycleds for such a lovely day x



The other thing I wanted to mention was that Milly and Dottie have gone into the construction business! Yes, that's right, we've been building in The Emporium . Not content with all the rooms we already had, we added an extension. We are now proud owners of a Parlour. After weeks of wallpapering, painting and dithering. We own a parlour and have sent out our first newsletter. If you fancy having a nose, please do, there's a chance to WIN SOME GOODIES! (if you want a little hint with regards to the answer .... let me just say that Dottie and I are very, very partial to custard creams).



Right I'm back off to the sewing machine, I promise not to leave it so long till the next post and I really am very sorry to not have visited you all recently. See you in the parlour ....
x

PS A huge, huge thank you to Emma and Dottie for being such luverly, supportive, kind & funny friends. xxx

September Days...

Golden Days...



Birthday blooms...



Days on the Downs...



Seeing red days ...



Pretty pink days...



High Summer Days...



Purple Days...



Green Days...



Violet Days...



Multi coloured Days...



Perfect days for sitting on the garden bench and rereading the perfect September book...

A Cuckoo In The Nest...

Thank you for all your lovely birthday wishes and for coming to my party in your very pretty red shoes, sharing my cake and behaving properly during the party games! I had a great day, even the rain didn't stop play. I just wanted to show you this fab birthday card that Mr Roses gave me. All made out of card, isn't it beautiful? I had been wondering what he was up to in the kitchen in the wee small hours and now I know. Thank you M, I love it, it's very tweet (oh dear, the jokes don't get any better).
Talking of cuckoos... have you seen this?



What IS she up to? Flowers in her hair indeedy! Not very subtle Dottie dear, as if I'd forget your birthday! Yes please go over to my bestest Michele and wish her a superlicious day. Send her a virtual hug from me and a bunch of the finest roses around. Wish her wonderful things for the coming year, happy, happy days, lots of giggles and many more adventures.



As for you Dottie, I'll be over in the stockroom in just a mo with the finest custard creams I can find. Bestest birthday wishes.
Mxxxx

In A Party Mood

Would you like to come to a party? There are jam sandwiches, cups of tea and what's that in the middle of the table I wonder? Oh yes if you look closely... it's a birthday cake. Who's birthday is it I wonder? Could it be the little girl with bunches? The little girl with plaits and stripy ribbon in her hair? No. Well maybe, the little boy with a bib? He looks very hopeful, just can't wait to get his hands on the cake if you ask me.



Wrong, wrong, wrong. It's my birthday and I'd like you to come along to my tea party. Pull up a chair, grab a plate and let's pass the cake and biccies. Would you like some tea? I fancy a cuppa. Will you help me blow out my candles (not sure there's enough puff left in me these days...) Just a couple of stipulations, you have all got to have the most marvellous of times, no cheating at Pass the Parcel and promise me you'll all be wearing little red shoes like the little boy in the poster - Oh dear I'm sounding a bit of a bossy boots, but it's birthday girl's perogative. Most of all my dearies enjoy the party - happy days.
xxx

One Step at a time...

Way back at the beginning of the holidays, I promised Big Sister that we would spruce up her bedroom. Similarly, she promised to finish the three very large art projects she had been set for the summer... Well the enthusiasm and earnestness of those first few weeks soon dwindled and the sketchbooks lay untouched in a corner of her room alongside the pot of paint and wallpaper.



Halfway through the holidays after some mutual nagging, Big Sister found her paintbrushes and I found mine. She had a very definite idea of what she wanted in her room and would have happily completed the whole thing herself had it not been for Mr Roses constant reminder "Make sure the lines are straight" ringing in our ears.



It took no time for her to slap on another coat of fresh white paint to three walls of her room, unfortunately it took us a little longer to arrange the patches of wallpaper that she had collected on the wall... In retrospect this was a good thing as sticking them all up temporarily might not have looked that aesthetically pleasing, but allowed time for her to think about the way they looked - not to mention the daily activity of picking up the bits of paper that had been blown down from the wall when the window was open (we girls like our exercise you know!)..
Finally, just before the end of the holidays, after a day or so of me perched precariously on the bedroom stool, wallpaper paste in one hand, a look of utter concentration on my face and the ipod blaring, the job was done.



Big Sister is very pleased with it as am I. Even Mr Roses likes it, only not so much when he gets too close and starts muttering about us not using a spirit level...
Set against the three white walls, the patchwork chimney breast really works. It needs the calmness of the rest of the room (what calmness, there's a daily whirlwind of clothes and make up going on here) to balance it. I'm glad she chose some of the darker papers too, particularly the black ones as they tend to "ground" the others as it did look a bit "floaty" before they were added.



Yes. I'm falling in love with the darker papers imagining a room full of them. Perhaps it's because they resemble the colour of my broken toe at the moment. All sorts of gloriously vivid colours going on at the end of my foot at the moment (why am I such a walking disaster area at the moment, surely I can be trusted to put some washing away without fracturing a part of my body!).
Living on a hill has made hobbling around a tad more difficult than I anticipated and I have spent this morning contemplating driving my car without touching the brake pedal to spare the pain. Have reached the conclusion that this might entail more than just a broken toe...



Enforced incarceration has resulted in much reading of some vintage magazines I obtained a few weeks ago... I purloined a couple of these for my own use and framed this gorgeous advert to put in Big Sisters room as it suits her patchwork wall so beautifully. i have put some of the others in the Emporium (in the Boudoir of course) and the rest I shall spend today perusing on the sofa. They are fascinating, little gems of social history, the advertising is fantastic and for a moment or two I shall imagine myself wafting around in a tightly waisted dress, preparing the odd casserole or two. applying my rouge... until I glance in the mirror and see the dodgy pair of red towelling socks on the end of my feet and remember I won't be wafting anywhere...



Oh, and the art projects did get done - an hour or so before they needed to be handed in, why waste three months when it can all be crammed in on a school night?!

There and Back

One of my favourite old card games that we have is an old edition of "There and Back". The cards, resembling the size of railway tickets, and images are wonderful. Conjuring up railway journeys and holidays to various towns, seaside resorts and cities. We spent a lot of time these holidays travelling by train (perhaps my favourite way to travel in this country), days out exploring the new and revisiting the old.



Many happy memories gleaned from simple pursuits.
Days revisiting favourite old towns. A favourite train ride away...



Mapp and Lucia days, pretending that Rye was once again the imaginary Tilling of the stories (oh so easy to do).



Climibing church towers, turning green with dizziness, quickly admiring the beautiful view before quickly, very quickly, clambering down the stairs to terra firma.



But taking in time to spot the pink house from above



And admiring it face to face (this would be my house here I think!).



Days spent walking through enchanted forests..



Entering through gigantic doorways...



Spying magical cobwebs...



Admiring Romany caravans...



Having the distinct feeling you were being watched ...



Viewing the sky through fern patterned eyes...



Sitting on a bench and turning around to see this most handsome creature...



Composing myself and feeling blessed to have him walk round in front of me to say hello...



Pretending, yet again, to be Mrs Bennett, in front of the house filmed in Pride and Prejudice.



Days on the river,,,



Dabbling your toes...



Sunning your arms...



Wanting to take the plunge...



Loving the way the river mirrors the sky...



Seemingly never ending days on the beach. Rockpooling...



Finding beauty and treasure in the close up...



Imagining and daydreaming on the horizon...

Days enjoying things that have been enjoyed by families for decades past ...



Days that make your skin tingle, your freckles appear, your appetite double and your smile permanent...
And now with the summer over, the railway station I shall be visiting most often is Stopathome, but it's been a good journey...

Close to the edge...

No I'm not talking about the result of six weeks at home with my daughters, nor the seemingly endless fruitless forays into town for last minute school uniform shopping. I'm talking about the day the Rambling Roses went for a walk on the wild side, a walk that took us literally close to the edge.



We decided to walk the South Downs Way from just after Birling Gap up to the top of Beachy Head and down into Eastbourne. A jolly jaunt we thought. Let's leave the car at home, take full advantage of the excellent bus service, enjoy the scenery en route and be as green as possible. All sounds wonderful doesn't it? Well it was... except ...



... we chose one of the windiest days I can remember to saunter along the cliffs' edge. Let me just say that we went green in more than one sense of the word, I'm not talking leaving the car at home energy saving kind of green, more the colour of my face when I caught sight of the sheer drop beneath my feet and the strength of the wind threatening to blow us over at any moment.



Shall we say it was exhilarating? Yes it certainly was! Honestly, it was... sometimes just a little too 'exhilarating', perhaps...
I remember years ago walking along the cliffs in Normandy and having one of those moments when you just literally freeze to the spot - taking the minutest steps possible, just wanting to close my eyes and vaporise.



Well it wasn't that bad this time but there were times when I came uncomfortably close to it, I did spend rather a lot of time shouting to the girls (above the noise of the gale force winds) to step back from the edge and, of course, Mr Roses did HAVE to lean over the edge a few times to get the perfect shot of the cliffs which all added to my greenness.



Putting those moments to one side, it was one of the most wonderful walks we have ever done. We've visited this spot before but there was something special about arriving by bus, the wind literally throwing us down the soft dips of the Downs, running along the grass with our arms outstretched and just enjoying the elements.



The blues of the sea to one side, shadows of clouds playing above our heads, the greens of the fields to the other and all the time the wind blowing and blowing...



I am amazed that I took any photos at all, not only was my camera violently shaken by the wind but each photo I took seemed to have my hair flying in front of it or the camera strap doing the same. Fortunately some photos emerged unscathed. Glimpses of the lighthouse appearing and disappearing between the swells of the hills, its stripes shining brightly against the white cliffs and blue sea.



Looking behind us and seeing the coastline that we had followed and the most beautiful fields and downland.
At Beachy Head itself, Big Sister and I literally had to lie on the ground to stop being blown over. We could not get a foothold on the ground. We spotted Mr Roses and Little Sister huddled on the ground together but it seemed impossible for us two to get over there to reach them. All we could do from our position on the grass was to beckon them over!



As we left Beachy Head and started to descend the scenery started to change. Trees appeared along the cliff edge, reminding me of France and Devon.



Touches of pink emerged amongst the grass and there in the distance was the sight of something familiar.



With the wind behind us we hurtled down the hill towards Eastbourne, the wind making it impossible to stop. Big Sister arm in arm with her dad, laughing and chatting. Me and Little Sister sharing her Ipod and singing Coldplay at the top of our voices...



Yes, it was exhilarating, but it was so much more. It was one of those moments you wanted to frame and put in a box. An unexpected delight gleaned from the last days of Summer. A treasured time from our Summer, for some reason I had tears in my eyes (and, no it wasn't the wind) - it was just one of those moments that you know are special.

Treasure Hunt

Hasn't it been a lovely few days! We are really enjoying the sunshine at the moment, hope you are too. If I look out of the window I can see a very sunny garden but life here in the stockroom is a little chaotic. Dottie and i have been so busy restocking our shelves recently that the sun is going to have to take a back seat this weekend...
Would you like to see what we've been up to?
Well how about going on a treasure hunt if the weather where you are isn't all that sunny. See if you can find the items below somewhere in our Emporium. It really is worth having a rummage there are new things all over the place...

Buckets with holes in...


Please click on photos to enlarge

Ballet shoes...



Ursula Undress...



Two birds, three cats and a bunch of flowers...



And, yes, as I feared, those two little minxes have got themselves some of their own products ...



Have fun!

It's all in the Packaging...

I had intended to post a kind of photo diary of our all our jolly jaunts last week but then, on Friday, Mr Roses announced that we were off to London for the day, on a jolly that I had been wanting to do for quite some time. We decided to do something for everyone, a trip to an exhibition that Mr Roses had been wanting to see, a trip to Hamleys for Little Sister and, of course, to Topshop for Big Sister.



What better way to start an action packed day in London than a mooch around Notting Hill. We wander through the streets and market stalls of Portobello and, if it weren't for the million and one things we had planned to do, could quite easily have spent the day there. If you're going up soon, try and pop into the falafel bar on Portobello Road, we had the best lunch in ages.



After a quick detour involving walking up and down the lovely rows of houses and playing our favourite "If you could have just one house which would it be" game, we arrived at our destination. I have been wanting to come here to the Museum of Brands and Packaging for a long, long time.


Please click on the images to enlarge them

I love ephemera and vintage packaging and have often wondered if the collection here would live up to my expectations - it certainly did. I was in vintage packaging heaven! I think the rest of the Roses thought the trip worthwhile just to see the look on my face, honestly I didn't know what to do with myself!!!
Packaging, leaflets, posters and ephemera from World War Two:



Look at that sign asking you to bring your own paper to wrap your purchases, perhaps we should be doing the same thing today.



Household items have never looked so good. Almost makes you want to get the duster out.



Sweets and chocolates that brought back so many memories for me - I was back in my sweet shop as a little girl choosing my mother's Christmas box of chocolates and choosing my favourite sweets.



A history of packaging from Victorian times up to the present day. A hotch potch of wonderful imagery and graphics. A social history that you could drool over. I must admit looking through the shelves and shelves and shelves of goodies it was the most recent additions that disappointed.



Would we really be drooling over our packaging in years to come?
I can't recommend this museum enough, it may be small but what's that saying? "Good things come in small packages..." If only there had been some for sale!!!!!



How do you recover from a place like that? Why you jump on a tube, walk quickly along the Embankment and arrive at the Courtauld Gallery, one of our favourite art galleries in town. After all that rushing we really wished we'd brought a change of clothes and hopped into some of those fountains down in the courtyard of Somerset House, looks like so much fun.



We had promised ourselves we wouldn't miss theBloomsbury Exhibition that was on here. A small exhibition that had some fabulous examples of fabrics, textiles and designs that the Bloomsbury group produced for the Omega Workshops. A great display. There was also a small exhibition of Winifred Gill's designs and prints including some for toys she had intended to be made for the workshops.
We wandered quickly through some of the other galleries, gawping at the Cezannes, Renoirs, Manets but were very conscious of the Rosebuds desire to go shopping. So a whistlestop tour this time, with just enough time to visit the gallery shop where we made a few purchases:



I wish!!!

Found the kettle, forgot the ketchup ...

Please forgive my laziness, we've reached the point in the holidays when it seems that we've all stepped down a gear. Lazy mornings, lazy days, lots of sunshine, lots of lovely food and Mr Roses at home have all meant that little time has been spent in front of the computer.
Last week we went camping again. Now I know you've all seen millions of our camping photos this past year and heard in great detail all about the highs and lows of the Rambling Roses exploits so not too many photos this time and fewer words. Suffice to say that we had the most wonderful time, having slept in yurts and in our own tent we plumped this time to hire a bell tent so that we could really take advantage of the little time we had there. Oh the joy of arriving and not having to put up the tent. To walk into a beautiful white canvas structure that has a properly fitting ground sheet, doesn't leak and has mattresses waiting for you ...




We meant to savour every moment - and we did. The only low spot was realising that I'd forgotten the ketchup! It seems that I'd become a bit too blase in the old packing department, leaving everything till the last minute. My goodness, packing for a camping trip for us must equal packing for a major expedition for most. We were hardly miles away from civilization yet the need to ensure all (and I mean all) our possessions have been packed is paramount. For me what was uppermost in my mind was the kettle which had gone mysteriously AWOL - life under the trees may be good, but without a cuppa in my hand first thing in the morning, wuuld be pretty miserable. Kettle located finally by Mr Roses under a pile of blankets, I breathed a sigh of relief and continued to pile up the possessions in the hall. Mr Roses has long since stopped trying to pare down the items that us 3 female Roses deem to be essential on a camping trip and quietly packed the car which had once again assumed its tardis like qualities for the trip.
So kettle found, holidays could begin in earnest. Except for the missing ketchup (and, it seems, anything else that came in a jar or bottle, as I somehow managed to forget opening the last cupboard door in the kitchen that housed all the culinary delights we needed to take). Normally life at home would continue quite blissfully without the addition of ketchup, here under the stars the loss of ketchup took on epic proportions. The peace and quiet of the tipi trail was punctuated by wails from the Roses' tent "I can't believe you forgot the ketchup", "How could I forget the ketchup".
Time to call for the cavalry ...Emma and her boys were going to join us for one day adventuring and running feral and she gladly agreed to bring the ketchup - phew, disaster averted.



We enjoyed evenings under the starriest of skies, the fullest of moons and the quietest of nights. Days spent playing rounders, reading in the dappled shade, swinging from trees. We had an awfully big adventure with Mrs Sew Recycled and her boys on the Bluebell Railway - thanks Emma for the most wonderful day - an Enid Blyton/Darling Buds of May kind of day that brings a smile to my face just thinking about it.



So once again we survived the camping, feeling better for it. A few days away and feeling a million times more refreshed on our return. I may have forgotten the ketchup and oh so many things in the kitchen department but I did remember one essential thing that must earn me rather a lot of points in the blogging world - if you're gonna go camping, forget the ketchup, forget the peanut butter and the jam, remember the kettle, but most of all, do try and wear shoes that match the campfire!!!!



And whilst I'm glowing in the warmth of that campfire moment, I did remember to paint ALL my toenails the same colour (ironically, a nice ketchupy red) but for some reason the big toenail on the right just didn't want to play ball - that would just have been too perfect ...

Milly and Dottie say "Thank You"

Thank you!!! Milly says "Thank you". Dottie says "Thank you" and Michele and I shout out "thank you" at the top of our voices. Thanks to all of you who have visited our Emporium. have left such generous, kind, encouraging and supportive comments. We have been overwhelmed by the number of visitors we've had along to our little shop this week and have been busy in the Stockroom with our piles of brown paper and string (not to mention a fair few packets of biccies and cups of tea).



Over a year ago Dottie and I had (notice it's not Michele and I, the alter egos do take over when we talk about each other) a little idea that lived in our emails and went floating through the ether from one side of the country to the other. We just can't believe that as of 5pm last Saturday our shop was no longer just part of our many daily ramblings and that we are "playing" at shopkeepers for real.



It has been nerve racking and exciting. Our confidence has waxed and waned and oh the nerves last week when we pressed the "publish" button. We have known from the beginning what we wanted in our Emporium and how it would look, we have also known that Milly and Dottie would be in charge. This all felt very safe within the confines of our correspondence and flights of fancies are to be welcomed on cold, rainy days. Making those flights of fancies real on a bright sunny afternoon and going public with Milly and Dottie and our little dream was a huge leap of faith ... I for one was just not sure what the reaction would be. Minutes before "going live' I was found pacing the hall, shedding a tear clutching the phone and talking to Dottie.
So we sat down in front of our pooters, synchronised our actions and hey presto!



This week life in the Stockroom has been good. Confidence has been restored to Dottie and Milly, shelves are being restocked, biscuit crumbs are being constantly swept up and the kettle seems to be permanently on. Milly and Dottie are still dreaming and planning and I know for sure that those two little minxes will be taking more of a centre stage at the Emporium over the next few weeks...
So "thank you" for visiting, joining in the fun and most importantly, thank you for your support!
xxx

PS Thanks to lovely Emma for the gorgeous plants she gave me for my garden earlier on in the year, the gorgeous daisies in these photos are a pressie from her.

Open for Business!

An awfully long time ago two bloggers started writing to each other and discovered that they had much in common. A very special friendship blossomed and much fun and mischief has been had along the way. Dreams were shared and plans were hatched … after months and months of giggling, worrying, dithering and much custard cream eating, they finally get to “play shops”.
Milly and Dottie (for they are our alter egos) would love you to come and take a peep around. We’ve polished our shoes, starched our aprons and swept away the biscuit crumbs and are hiding away in our stockroom - why don’t you come and join us? Here we are.

Red, amber and green (ish)

I want to be looking out of my window and seeing baskets of flowers enjoying themselves in the sunshine. I want to be in my garden reading a book under the shade of the apple tree. I want to be sitting round the garden table eating supper on a long hot summer's evening. Unfortunately, what I have been doing is sitting at my computer gazing out through the window at grey, wet days and soggy washing. If I turn my head just a little to the left I can find some colour but it's not coming from the garden - in a corner of the room is this motley collection of bits and bobs that have been the only sources of eye candy the past few days have had to offer.



I haven't taken many photos recently, but, it's strange to see that those I have taken, all seem to have similar red, amber and green colours in them. A sort of "stop, get ready and go" collection of things I've been up to and enjoyed over the last few days.



Last week I was round at Emma's house again. That magical old preserving pan of hers that had produced vats of elderflower cordial was calling us once more. Emma had been given pounds of blackcurrants by her mother to make some jam. Again we struggled with our measurements and calculations and again (oh dear what will my dentist say?) we trundled down to the supermarket to buy more kilos of sugar.



So we stood and poured and stirred and giggled and waited and waited ... when would we reach sugar boiling point? We managed the most beautifully coloured scum covered brew. We skimmed it and found a jewel coloured potion lying beneath but the sheer quantity of liquid jam made it far too scary to allow it to come to a rolling boil. So we stood and waited and waited. Fear of being covered by molten jam like some kind of sugary volcano erupting led us to take things slowly. oh so slowly. Two hours later, with the crack of some almight thunder and lightening and the reminder that we had to go and collect our children from school we decided to call it a day.



Later on that evening Emma rang to say she boiled it once more and eureka we had jam! Not just a bit of jam, not just a scraping of jam on your toast but jars and jars and jars of the stuff (I told you it was a magic jam). Delicious tasting jam, sweet smelling jam, gorgeously jewel coloured jam that gleams when you hold it up to the sunlight (but this being July in England there is no sunlight, so you'll have to take my word for it).



One rainy day last week on the way back from the morning school run. I popped into the local shop and saw a packet of Fruity Liquorice Allsorts on special offer. I couldn't resist ... but they were too, too sweet for even my tooth and not nearly liquorishy (is that a word?) enough. But they did look so bright and summery next to my nasturtiums that were growing outside the kitchen window.



Finally my green photo, my favourite. Oh I do like this photo for lots of reasons. Not because it's a good photo (it aint) but because I love the green and creams of the enamel tin holding the basil and the vintage bread tin that I found at a local street party. I love the greens and scent of the basil, the smell and taste of summer. I love the pattern and shape of artichokes, I'm fascinated by their leaves and design. I love the fact that for a few short weeks during the year you can find them fresh and cheaply at the local greengrocer and if you put them together with that basil, some bread some olive oil you get my perfect summer's meal. What I really like is that in my "traffic light" colllection of photos, this one says "go", enjoy summer while you can.

PS If Devon Dumpling would like to email me with her address, I'd love to send her a few little goodies to say 'thank you' for her elderflower recipe, eton mess with elderflowers and gooseberries (Emma and I were drooling over this one) - find me some eggs and cream quick!!!!

12 friends, two tents and ten candles ...

Oh dear another whole week has gone by without a new post, any visits to your lovely blogs - I'm so sorry my bloggy friends. It's definitely tail chasing time of year isn't it? So many things to do at school, at home etc- here's hoping that things will calm down in a couple of weeks with the onset of the summer holidays - fingers crossed!
Anyway, back to the matter in hand - those of you who read the last post about Little Sister's birthday might be wondering what was spooky about the entry for "Tent" being under the entry for "ten" in my old French dictionary. Well if you remember reading about our visits here and Big Sister's Birthday, you will understand just why Little Sister said "no" to a birthday party and "yes" to a weekend camping.



It's funny isn't it no matter how much you fall in love with a place, there is always a doubt that the next visit might disappoint, or let you down in some way. We should have known that this would never happen here. Our magical spot was waiting for us, the sun was shining through the trees and our friends arrived laden with food, pressies and more food.



I can't tell you how special this place is. It's pure enchantment - a child's special dream, an adult's weekend fantasy.
We made ourselves at home, once more, in Mr Tumnuss' house,



noting the hot water bottles that had been left thoughtfully for our visit and praying that we wouldn't need them.



We decked the woods with bunting, our children ran off to explore and we took a deep breath. Breathing out the stresses of the week and breathing in the fresh, pure promise of the weekend. There is something about camping, about spending a length of time that makes you appreciate the course of a day, no distractions, just living and enjoying the moment.



No sooner had we settled in than Emma and her lovely family arrived for tea and cake (courtesy of Mrs Sew Recycled). It was lovely to see her two boys enjoying themselves in the woods, experiencing the joys of hanging from rope swings, paddling in the stream, wandering off alone (all very boy's own stuff). We played rounders, we ate, we laughed, we chatted and laughed some more.
An afternoon that seemed to last forever (in a good way Emma!) - one that you would like to bottle and keep by your bedside for those rainy days...



We made a fire although it was far too warm,



we ate our food in the dappled sunshine of early evening and the children drank their summer "cocktails" and devoured the homemade brownies that Little Sister had made the night before.



We took a twilight stroll into the woods, marveled at half finished camps,



stared at strange shapes and shadows and listened intently to the sounds of the evening.



We went to sleep accompanied by some singing campers who had formed another party beside us (but that's another story!).
And when we awoke, Little Sister was ten! Her birthday wish was to walk in the stream before breakfast. Not bad eh, bed to stream in a minute!



An afternoon of picnics, birthday cakes, rounders, three legged races (I have the bruises to prove it), swinging from trees and frisbee throwing.



Time went at its proper pace last weekend and we left our beloved spot late Sunday afternoon. The bunting removed, the crumbs swept away, the laughter silenced but the magic remained.

Ten is a magic number

Happy Birthday Little Sister!
Wishing you a year full of sunlit days full of fun and laughter, dreams come true, friendship and love.
Ten years old already - how did that happen?
It seemed like only yesterday that you were running around with your long blonde hair in plaits like these.



Running around in circles on the beach and refusing to walk in a straight line.



Taking your doll for walks in her pram.
Twirling around in your tutu showing me your latest ballet moves.

I think I was ten when I was given my first French dictionary.



Look what was under the entry for "ten" -



That's a bit spooky isn't it? But as I said my darling, ten is a magic number ...

Summer in a glass

Take one lovely fellow blogger (Emma), a bucket, a pair of secateurs and some sunshine. Add to this the now obligatory jam doughnuts and drinks that accompany our little jaunts (this is by no means compulsory but advisory).


(Emma and her bucket)


Set out on a summer's morning with purpose in your stride and laughter in your hearts.
Fill the said bucket with the whitest, sweetest elderflower heads available. At this point, speaking from experience, we would advise the wearing of long trousers to avoid the masses of nettles that seem to protect every single elderflower bush we stumbled upon and the carrying of a stick/set of ladders (which fit neatly into your bag) to compensate for your lack of height and the fact that all the best blooms are as high up as a mountain top!



Stop for a while to eat the aforementioned doughnut, sip the shop bought elderflower cordial you brought along knowing that tomorrow you'll be sipping your very own brew.



Stagger up the hillside and stop to admire the many butterflies and wild orchids (again, this is obligatory as it adds to the sweetness of your drink). Spend a lot of time wishing you could make headdresses from elderflowers, garlands and wedding bouquets and wanting to live in the 1930s...



Arrive home and put the kettle on. Take cup of tea out into the garden and give those elderflower heads a good shake, Remember to count each head to ensure you use the right amount of ingredients, in our case things got so complicated that we almost wished for a calculator but thankfully help was at hand when we reread this wonderful recipe here, , thank heavens for imperial measures, it was all getting very confusing when we were dealing in kilos of sugar.



Into a large old preserving pan (preferably your mother's - thank you Mother of Mrs Sew Recycled) add enough sugar to rot entire family's teeth and those of any guests who happen to call. Add water and bring to boil whilst stirring.
Just when you feel your arm's going to drop off from all that stirring add flower heads (then scoop them out again as you have forgotten to remove acres of woody stem), lovely lemons and gold dust (I mean citric acid - it seems that you might be able to get your hands on some of this just in time for next year's harvest as there is apparently a national shortage, failing that, for a nominal fee I will reveal my source (!!!).



Cover with a clean cloth and leave to steep for 24 hours. During this time you might feel it necessary to stand in various corners of the kitchen sniffing the air as we did trying to work out whether we could smell cat's pee, lemon or somewhere the scent of elderflower ...
Return home and anxiously await phone call from friend to tell you that, yes, there is a distinct whiff of elderflower in the air.
Next day on return to friend's house stop off at baker's to buy some cake (just to enhance the flavour of the cordial you understand, but seriously contemplate any further visit to local baker's in disguise once you realise just how often you pop in there).



Arrive at friend's house, Put kettle on, have tea, eat cake and chat.
Momentarily forget why you are there and chat some more. An hour or so later, remember the reason for visit. Take bottles, try desperately once more to remove dried up orange juice that are in them, friend will hopefully mention foolproof plan of bicarb, rice and boiling water to do the trick.
Slowly begin to strain the brew into bottles and avoid sticking to everything you come into contact with as the liquid is just SO SWEET AND STICKY. Halfway through, have minor panic that cordial may just taste of cat's pee and/or you have discovered some kind of magic elixir as the pan shows no sign of emptying. Rummage around kitchen emptying bottles as you go to use for cordial. Half an hour later wonder at the vat of cordial that's on the worktop and think perhaps there really was no need to double all the ingredients.



Wash hands, wash worktop, wash floor, wash skirt, wash everything that has come into contact with this sugary delight. Take a bottle of fizzy spring water that your friend has just had delivered, dilute cordial and pour into glass.



Take into garden, spend a lot of time sniffing and giggling and have your first sip - summer in a glass, I promise.
After a few glasses convince yourself it's fermented and that you are now just a tad worse for wear, remember that of course it hasn't and it's just all those bubbles.
Return to kitchen, view once again all those bottles and wonder just how much you can drink ...
Lightbulb moment when you remember that all you lovely bloggers are full of culinary ideas and decide to ask for help. If you know of any way of using elderflower cordial, please leave a comment. There will of course be a winner, a snifter of our elderflower sunshine, some summer goodies will be posted off to you and Emma and I will have fun tasting all your recipes - sounds like a good idea ...

"tis almost fairy time"

"I know a bank where the wild thyme blows,
Where oxlips and the nodding violet grows,
Quite over-canopied with luscious woodbine,
With sweet musk-roses and with eglantine."
Midsummer's Night Dream

Ssssssh, if you listen very carefully you'll hear the sound of the fairies wings, they're on their way, I'm sure. Whilst our gardens might not be full of canopied bowers and sleeping fairy queens, we will still find them here this weekend at the bottom of our garden.




If you want to know what we'll be up to then take a peep at this and this and if those fairies are giving you the run around then take a look at this and this (the sweetest fairy balm for the heart).



Happy Midsummer
xxx

More giant leaps for mankind ...

Late Friday night, three of us huddled on the sofas watching TV. Images appear on the telly of the first moon landing. Conversation follows about that famous day. Mr Roses turns to Big Sister and asks what was the name of the astronaut who first walked on the moon. To which I reply, having first consumed the compulsory couple of Friday night glasses of wine:
"Neil Armstrong-Jones" - Now I bet you hadn't realised up until now that a relative of the Earl of Snowdon was in charge of the lunar landing. Good to see my grey cells are still working ...
But wait it gets better ...
Big Sister then pops up with:
"That man who went with him was called Buzz Lightyear". (no doubt Mr Potato Head was in charge of NASA at the time).
Suddenly space travel becomes much more interesting ...
What's that saying? "Like Mother, like Daughter..."

Firsts

This week I picked two little posies for my daughters' bedside tables. Each different, each marking a "first" of some kind.
Ever since Big Sister was a tiny toddler, back in our old house, we would eagerly await each year the first rose opening in the garden. That first summer she went to the wall at the back of the garden where the old rambling rose grew and Mr Roses picked her up in his arms and she lent forward to pick her rose, sink her nose into its sweet scent and toddle back into the kitchen clutching her treasure. Each year the tradition continues, for many years the roses came from that old rambling rose - these past few years it has come from different roses in our new home.



This particular one has the sweetest, headiest scent and takes me right back to those seemingly endless summer evenings of my childhood. Early evenings spent outside playing with friends, riding on our bikes, skipping and most importantly, making rose petal perfume in jam jars of water. It is a smell I associate with my childhood home, summer, sunshine and all things lovely.



So this rose, once it starts to fade will join the others that Big Sister has kept and pressed in her flower book. Each one marking another summer, another chapter in her life and mirroring , I think the beautiful young woman that she is becoming.



The second little bedside posy was picked for Little Sister to welcome her home from her own very grown up adventure. Her first residential trip without us Roses alongside! Our house was strangely quiet without the youngest rosebud in it and I waited with baited breath for her return. This was a big one for us all, our "baby" returned happier, more confident, extremely tired and a little more grown up. The riot of colour that sat on her bedside table will I think be pressed too, to mark a very big and important chapter in our lives.




I'm not sure if our "babies" ever stop being our "babies" or our "first born" ever stop being our "first born". Of course the years go past and the flowers get picked and pressed and Big Sister now towers above me and the memories fill the once empty flower book but I know that certain things like that big beaming smile when Big Sister picked her first rose, or the triumphant smile Little Sister gave me when I collected her after her trip are as precious as the flowers that mark them.

Have a lovely weekend
x

Meet the guests ...

We had some guests to stay this weekend. They arrived on Friday, thankfully arriving in time for the end of the half term and have been with us ever since, and, I hasten to add, have not, nor will ever outstay their welcome. You couldn't wish for a more delightful pair of guests, I'm only hoping that Mr Blue Skies and Mrs Sunshine (a marriage truly made in heaven) prolong their visit for as long as they can.



Somewhere in that expanse of blue is a vapour trail. When I was younger I would spend ages trying to work out where planes were heading, imagining their destinations. I must admit on grey wet days when I see those trails up above in the sky I wouldn't mind being up there ... but on weekends like this I've got to say that the view down here is not bad at all!



We finally got to the beach on Friday after days of rain and cold. Egg sandwiches, oreos, favourite reading books and suntan lotion packed in a jiffy and the car on autopilot down to the seafront. A lazy afternoon that saw us stretching and basking in the sunshine, smiling as we relaxed and listened to the waves lapping against the shore and dipped our feet into the briny blue.



That day saw the emergence of our cats into the garden. The Hinge and Bracket of the feline world had decided that is was finally warm enough to venture outside.



With temperatures exceeding those under the piles of eiderdowns they have been sleeping with these past few months they lived dangerously and sauntered into the garden. It wasn't too long before they needed shelter, carefully parting the poppies and nigella and trampling them into a leafy bed.



Just as well the neighbour's cat is doing the same on the opposite side of our garden, for once I have symmetry and order of some kind ...



In shady corners under the fig tree the foxgloves have come to greet our guests. Appearing almost overnight, their flowery stems stand tall and majestic.



We decided on Saturday to head out for the great open spaces. Thankfully Mr & Mrs Blue skies decided to join us. We walked over the Downs with friends, lifting our heads to the sky and lazing in the grass. A good few hours later we rejoined civilization in desperate need of one of these



and sat in the shady park to cool down.



With no sign of getting fidgety the sun shone again and the sky was at its bluest on Sunday. A special day, the first day of the year when we were able to eat breakfast, lunch and supper outdoors. A return to summer food and summer habits. Barbecues, salads, garlic, tomato, homemade pesto, garlic, basil, more garlic!!!!!



A spot of rockpooling on the beach in the morning where I have to say that the sun excelled herself and forced us into a hasty retreat home. An afternoon having water fights and reading the papers in the garden.



I hope you've had similar tales this weekend, I'm doing my best to make the sun and sky feel very welcome round here as I do so miss them when they've gone.

Surrey with a fringe on top

On Thursday afternoon, before the beginning of half term there was a stillness and calmness about the house that rarely happens. The hall was free of the piles of shoes, bags, letters, keys, mobile phones etc that usually fill the space. I had been waiting impatiently for the wisteria to trail across our front door and its flowers to bloom in front of the window.



On Thursday it was perhaps at its finest - against a blue sky, a peaceful hallway, its lilac fronds framed my view out and for some reason made me think of that song from "Oklahoma" - " Surrey with a fringe on top". My mum used to love singing that song. I listened to it again on Youtube on Thursday and thought it captured this moment completely. The complete joy of the moment, the optimism of the time of year and my little flowers showing off to as many passersby as possible.



Over the next couple of days the shoes, bags and flotsam and jetsam of daily life mounted up on and around the hall table, the sun came and went but my "fringe" remained,



Sunday morning was perhaps one of the best of the year, a real "Surrey with a fringe on top" morning. Patty's Plum, my favourite oriental poppy, had woken from her winter slumber and added her vibrant colour to the ever increasing blooms in the garden. Isn't it wonderful, this time of year, when we are surprised almost daily by the floral goings on in our gardens?
This riot of colour was a complete contrast to the calmness of my hall and I loved it just as much.



We wandered that afternoon across the city through parks full of families picnicking and toddlers toddling, through deserted roads shimmering in the haze of a glorious day.



The colours of the houses basking in the Sunday sunshine.



We spent the afternoon with friends in their home by the seafront. Played rounders and laughed in the gardens, looked at the view and felt as if were caught inside a painting, framed by the sun, sea and greenery.



Perhaps we had taken a wrong turning and been transported to the South of France - it was that good...



Now if ever there was a "Surrey with a fringe on top" kind of day, this was it. A day of laughter, colour, sunshine, friendship and that feeling you get as you look round at your friends and family and all the other families laughing, playing, lying in the sunshine around you that it is a special day indeed. A day that should be marked with fireworks and fanfares like the ones we saw on the beach that evening, marking the end of the festival and a fitting full stop to a special day.

Two go mad on doughnuts ...

So Emma and I finally got to play hooky and we couldn't have chosen a better day for it. After months and months of planning a day out together - we did it! How many times have we sat over our coffees planning our jolly jaunt onto the Downs? Living just streets away, you would think that it would be a tad easier to arrange than this...



The last time I saw Emma, a couple of weeks ago, was during one of her stints at the wonderful Open House she is exhibiting in. I bounded into the room eager to see my chum again and stopped dead in my tracks, how could it be that the pair of us could both be wearing identical clothes, from top to toe I wonder? Fashion faux pas to one side, it's well worth visiting this lovely house if you're around Brighton this weekend (if not, I know that Emma has a lovely Folksy and Etsy shop too which have the added advantage of not needing to phone ahead to check on what you're both wearing!).



Back to yesterday - we pootled up to the Downs to visit one of the Anish Kapoor scultpures that are exhibited around the city as part of the Festival.



Fresh air, two giggling bloggers with no sense of direction and a touch of culture thrown in what could be better?
Nothing much could have been better about yesterday actually.



The sun was out and shining, the sheep and cows were enjoying themselves and the sculpture was absolutely breathtaking. To see the landscape and sky reflected, magnified like this was wonderful. Luckily for us we went along quite early and were able to enjoy the spectacle in relative peace.



Well I say peace, it was quite calm until we arrived. In fact I think the group of arriving schoolchildren were better behaved than us. In our defence, all we were trying to do was take some photos that didn't have various parts of our bodies reflected in the sculpture, but this was easier said than done.



We finally ended up lying down beneath the plinth, taking turns to poke our heads up at an angle and point and shoot.



I'm sure if you look closely at the photos you'll see various bits of us but you won't hear the giggles (unless you listen very carefully).



Well all this art and culture can be just a little tiring don't you think? Emma had planned ahead - she arrived at my house armed with two of the best doughnuts in town (still warm from the oven), a flask of tea (of course) and because she's lovely Emma, freshly ironed crisp white napkins and tablecloth.



So we sat on a bench overlooking the beautiful Indian war memorial,

The Chattri,


drinking our tea and devouring our doughnuts, planning our next jaunt - secateurs at the ready, we plan a day of elderflower gathering and cordial making and of course freshly ironed tablecloths too.



Thanks Emma.

Sunshine on a rainy day ...

Hope you've all had a lovely weekend. Ours was good, somewhat tempered by the weather. Fortunately the sun shone when we needed it to most and it ran away and hid for the rest of the time.



We were able to watch our youngest dance outside during the Fringe Festival and join the heaving crowds of people visiting the city for the day.



We were able to go to a grown up birthday party, dressed in our summery finest but were unable to take our coats off ...

We were able to catch half hours of sunshine in the garden



and drool over the promise of strawberries



the blue against the white.



I picked a posy of white flowers in between the showers. The flowers being at their whiteiest (!) after the downpour and the air smelling the sweetest.



My little red teapot now sits on the kitchen table, a floral fragrant reminder that the sun is just a cloud away.



I was able to pick some rosemary and smell the scent of summer and close my eyes to the sight of dreary winter through the windows.



Whilst sitting at my computer just now, I looked up and saw a rainbow on the bookshelf



and a pot of gold at my side.

A sense of time and place

Our Friday evenings have been the same for years - a bottle of wine, bar or two of chocolate, curled up on the sofa watching TV, relaxing into the weekend. Recently this little routine has been interrupted by a game of pass the remote control. It doesn't matter how many channels we have, the hunt for something good to watch has been fruitless.



Just as were giving up hope, we spotted this -
featuring Richard Wilson driving around Britain in a Morris Traveller using routes from favourite 1950s travel guides - I was sold. This episode took us across the Yorkshire Moors from Scarborough to Whitby, had the most beautiful scenery and gave the kind of snippets of social history that I love. Nostalgic holidays by the sea sitting beside modern day goths living in Whitby. It was lovely TV, gentle and entertaining, just the kind of thing to welcome in the weekend. (Oh dear am I sounding like a bit of a Victor Meldrew)?



I love to find out more about places, how they were, what they looked like, what people got up to - everyday things really. I love piecing together information and building up a picture. A few weeks ago I was able to find some treasure. Not pretty, pretty, sparkly treasure, something much more personal. An old copy of one of my favourite books The Fortnight in September with a gorgeous dust jacket. I wrote about it here and haven't stopped recommending it to friends to read.



A little while back I found some vintage fabric featuring the very same pier that's mentioned in the story. Another little piece for me to add to my story. I made it into a little pillow to put in my etsy shop. I can almost see the family from the book walking along the seafront together...



I have just finished reading the last of the Mapp and Lucia books. I laughed all the way through them. Having visited Rye, the village in the stories, Tilling, is based on Rye, I had lots of images in my head already of what the streets, shops and houses would look like. E F Benson paints the scenes so vividly that there is no need to visit the place to enjoy the stories.



A few weeks ago I found this little vintage guide to water colour painting. I bought it, not because I wanted to learn how to paint (I know my limitations!), but because the cover reminded me so much of Lucia and George on one of their painting excursions. Daft I know, but my bookshelves are full of little stories like that, pictures that I like to group together to pad out the stories I've read. If you click on the photo you will notice in one of the postcards, a lady walking along with her basket just as they do every morning in the Mapp and Lucia stories - she's on her way to the grocer's for a chat I think ...



I would love one day to take a car journey around Britain in a Morris Traveller with a tartan travel blanket, flask of tea and homemade fruit cake. But of course the roads would have to be completely empty, the shops vintage and the sun always shining! I guess I'm going to have to make do with making up little pictures in my head ...

A glass half full kind of morning

It's a grey, wet day here today and I felt the need for pretty.
I felt the need for some calm amongst the chaos
Some peace amongst the piles of paper,
and the angst filled evenings fuelled by the oncoming weeks of exams.



The brighter quilts have been replaced today by softer hues



My sewing has been discarded whilst I play with some pretty threads.



My mug of tea sits to one side whilst I tinker with some pretty china.



I decide not to notice the sticky tape mark on the top of this old tin



To admire some beautiful old handwriting and remember how glad I am not to be back at school...



In short, I take some time to smell the roses.

Those darling buds of May

At the end of April I picked the first peonies from our garden. Beautiful, blowsy blooms greeting every passerby as they walked past our front garden. Heralding in, what I hope will be, a lovely May. Here they sit on a table in my living room enjoying the sun from the bay window.



And then on Friday along came May, perhaps one of my favourite months of the year. A month that is full of excitement, you can almost smell the hint of summer on the horizon, the garden bursts into life. In many ways this photos shows exactly what I love about May, the beautifully soft pink of the apple blossom against the green stems of the angelica and the wonderful angelica heads, perfect in their symmetry yet sitting somewhat higgledy piggledy in the corner of a blossoming flower bed and petal strewn lawn.



There is a sense that things are returning to their natural place,



Little Sister regains her favourite reading spot in the apple tree



and here by the sea the Brighton Festival begins.



Saturday morning bright and early we walked to an almost deserted seafront before the children's parade begins. A chance to savour the very short stillness of the place. Just a few moments later, the city is heaving with visitors, families, schools, samba bands as the children take centre stage and parade through the city to open the Festival.
For us it is always a chance to catch up with old friends. We've had a weekend of fresh air, walking and coming home with friends to eat and chat with them.



With very rosy (sunburnt) faces we drove over to here on Sunday. We met some friends and walked over the Downs, saw plenty of these



More of these than I've seen in a very long time




Walked tentatively through fields of these...



And spotted the reddest, handsomest fox going for a Sunday constitutional, we hope not in search of his lunch.



Picnicked on the cliff tops, took deep breaths and admired the view.



A lazy day at home yesterday, feeling tired but good. I looked over at the somewhat bleached peonies and



oh how they reminded me of those crepe paper decorations we used to have at Christmas when I was little, the ones we would put up in our classroom and watch them fade over the weeks - the rolls of crepe paper that you would still find in the local sweet shop months after the event, sitting tiredly in the corner sunbleached, colour fading and yet still tantalisingly attractive.



I want to thank you, yet again, for all the lovely, kind and supportive comments I've been getting recently, it has made a real difference. I am going to make a determined effort to get back into some kind of normal blogging routine and am so looking forward to visiting you all again. In the meantime, please pick one of my peonies to put beside your computer. the roses aren't yet blooming so I can't pass you a ragged rose to share, just yet...

A million reasons to smile ...

There must be at least a million here - beautifully blue and enchanting



A walk in the aptly named bluebell woods of "Heaven Farm.



"Can you smell Bluebells?"
"I can smell heaven."
(I Capture the Castle, the film



The sound of the bluebell railway in the distance as we walk through the woods



The enchantment of a magical place



Sitting in a dandelion covered field eating our picnic



Playing frisbee in the sun



Making Spring yellow floral garlands and holding them against the bluest of blue skies



Seeing my daughter, happy and worry free...



That's worth more than a million of anything.