A song, a journey and some fabric!

To the tune of For He's a Jolly Good Fellow.

I met a girl called Jo

Who told me what she knew

About a fabric gold mine

About a fabric gold mine

About a fabric gooooold miiiiiiiiine

In a place called Oswestry.

Soooooooooooooooooooooooooo ...

I knew I had to go

A long way off I know

But I knew of a lovely cafe

I knew of a lovely cafe

I knew of a lovely caaaaaaaaaaaaafeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

Where I ate and fed the ducks.

Theeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeen ...

I carried on my way

On such a lovely day

I asked for lots of directions

I asked for lots of directions

I asked for lots of direeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeections

To get me to my shop.

Whispers in awe - Textile Express  

I walked into a dream

Bulging at the seams

With every kind of fabric

With every kind of fabric

With every kind of faaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaabriiiiiiiiiiic

All at a bargain price.

Annnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnd ...

I went from room to room

The choices made me swoon

With linen, silk and cotton

Corduroy and chambray

Lace and velvet and poooopliiiiiiiiiiin

I had to make a choice.

Soooooooooooooooooooooo ...

I didn't know where to start

So decided to follow my heart

I chose some jazzy cotton

And then some floral poplin

With lots of lovely lineeeeeeeeeeeen

And a couple of trimmimgs too!

Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooow ...

My purse is nice and light

But what a lovely sight

I'm not sure what to do with it

I'm not sure what to do with it

I'm not sure what to do with iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit

Any suggestions please!

And as a final thank you for the tip off

For Jo's a jolly good fellow

For Jo's a jolly good fellow

For Jo's a jolly good fellooooooooooooooow

Pop over and say hello!

Find Jo over here.

(Apologies for the dire use of rhyme)

Jane

xxx

You like?

The very fact that I am starting this post with an excuse might indicate just how many doubts I have about my most recent of purchases.

The fact that I am going to reveal said purchase slowly so as to minimise the visual shock might emphasise this further.

You see Mr K - who shall thus forth be known as Mike for that is his name - insisted on popping in to our local charity centre. As I duly followed him in I was feeling fairly nonchalant about the prospect. Having had a conversation on our way there about having too much 'stuff' I had resolutely stated that I'd have a look around, but really didn't want or need anything at all. I was there purely to support his quest for some old cameras.

It nearly worked.

Then Mike spotted something I'd missed.

Something with a lovely pattern.

And an interesting shape.

Maybe a feature?

Or two?

At this point I feel it is only fair to warn you that if you possess a modicum of taste you might want to stop here.

You could imagine I have bought a beautiful old vase.

Or bowl.

Maybe a dainty cup or a tea set for summer picnics.

What you probably won't expect is this.

A fine example of a prettily patterned pottery dog!

And if you're still here you might be thinking 'how could this get any better?'

I'll show you how.

A pair of prettily patterned pottery dogs!

They made me smile.

I chuckled all the way home.

Today the chuckle has been tempered by many doubts. Am I turning into the sort of person who throws taste out of the window in favour of a cheap thrill? Will my twilight years see me surrounded by hordes of prettily patterned animals? I have never given much heed to popular taste and have always fancied a wall full of cuckoo clocks.

Is this a slippery slope?

HELP!

Jane

xxx

Hidden Treasures

I think it's only fair to warn you about this post. Mr K has recently treated me to a new camera and today was it's first outing. Needless to say I was particularly snap happy so if you fancy some eye candy (where on earth did that phrase come from?) rather than my customary poignant and inspiring writings (!) go ahead. 

Just saying.

Some time ago I wrote about Leek - a nearby market town with a wealth of history set among beautiful Staffordshire scenery. So when they advertised a Dickensian market Mr K and I thought it would be the perfect way to celebrate the start of the Christmas holidays. The weather was predicted to be fine and bright but - as we drove across in heavy sleet and rain - my expectations were considerably lowered. The market was still on but the weather had obviously taken it's toll. Some treasures still caught my eye however.

Sadly the rain was coming down too hard to have a proper mooch so we quick stepped it around the wild mallards to the indoor market.

Fortunately the nativity scene was under shelter.

And at last we felt a touch of Christmas past.

Although this little chap had clearly had enough!

Not sure what was going on outside Boots but it was all very jolly.

In a valiant effort to keep warm and dry we ducked into places hitherto unexplored.

Friends from my knitting group have often mentioned the store Bibelot and  I expected it to be a small town style wool shop. 

How wrong I was!

As we entered Mr K immediately recognised the proprietors as two of his old students. As he was waxing lyrical about the 'old days' I decided to have a peek upstairs. 

Look what I found.

And although I like Cath Kidston to a degree I couldn't help but be bowled over by this display of loveliness.

It just carried on.

Where to look? What to do? Where to buy? I was actually so totally phased by the amount of stuff in there that I came away with nothing - apart the firmest of intentions to attend one of their friendly craft courses in the New Year.

Next stop was a cafe called Spout. 

We were immediately greeted by young friendly staff and invited to choose from a fantastic range of goodies from the menu. Settling for the simple teacake option (!) we explored the rest of the rather large, rather quirky, rather beautiful old building.

Even the toilet had a distinct personality!

Upstairs there was a fantastically well stocked ale store called The Bottle Lab.

Needless to say quite some time was spent in perusal mode.

By the time we left it was dark.The way home across the moors and hills was speckled with fairy lights of various  colours, shapes and sizes - notably one that was in the shape of a bus. 

Who knows? 

Looking back the weather did us a favour. We explored indoors rather than out and in doing so were treated with a wealth of treasures.

And of course we couldn't resist bringing this little chap home.

Hope you are keeping warm and well.

Jane

xxx

Valentine Val

I found this beauty in a box of cards at an old book shop several years ago. The camera struggles to pick up the depth of the red but I fell in love with it immediately.

The sentiment on the back sealed the deal and is one that I'm sure the sender and recipient wouldn't mind me sharing with you.

So for all of you sweethearts - but particularly for those who find their valentines a little thin on the ground this year - some warm and heartfelt wishes for a wonderful day.

Jane

Frankie

and Valentine Val.

xxxxx

W.

January is always one of those months. Time to reflect, restore and regroup. Expectations are simple - keep warm, keep healthy and keep the washing pile ticking over. However once you turn the calendar page to February there is suddenly no excuse for leaving the Christmas lights on the weeping cherry outside, and by the time you do bring them in you realise the wooden front door has swollen so much in the bad weather that you can't retrieve the last bit of cable from the lower corner. This is why we now have a beautifully illuminated shoe rack. 

I'll give them another month. 

I'd refused to return Christmas to it's snoozing place this year until it had been thoroughly 'sorted out'. Our hidey hole is in the attic which has for many years now been a no go area. The only time it is ventured into is a) Christmas - put arm in, grab necessary boxes, retrieve and replace as necessary, and b) Summer - repeat operation with garden recliners. This means that the only movement has been around the door and the further reaches have remained blissfully dormant. No longer! After several dust laden hours of pulling, hauling and some rather choice language we managed to rid ourselves of two car loads of - ahem - rubbish and upturn some long forgotten treasures.

First up was this gorgeous little clock.

 We bought it for Big Sis when she was but a tot but she never liked the sound of it. In her words - 'I no like the tickety tock'. So into the attic it went. Sadly it was over wound so we need to get it seen to as the little pixies look so sweet going up and down on the see-saw as the clock tickety tocks away.

Then came this box. 

In typical fashion rather than just open it we stared at it for quite some time trying to figure out what it might be inside.Was the W. a monogram? What did Walter keep in his box? We remembered an old reel projector that we once had with old newsreels of a zoo and (oddly) the Hindenburg disaster. Eventually it was opened and I whooped at what was inside. A gorgeous Remington typewriter.

 Was W. a writer? A journalist? Had this been an essential part of his kit as he visited newsworthy places? It still works and makes a heartening nostalgic click with each letter pressed (although it feels very odd not being able to alter size or style of font!) 

So what do I do with it? Keep it safe in it's box and bring it out for special occasions, or find somewhere to display it in all it's glory (although the dusting of all those little parts doesn't thrill me)? Who do you think W. might have been? Do you know when it might date from (if it's any help it's been in the attic for twenty years so it's not from this century ;))?

So, although there's still more work to do  (we didn't make it into the furthest corners stuffed with baby clothes and Mr K's paintings) our first little foray was roundly rewarded. However I don't think we'll be needing those garden recliners anytime soon!

Jane 

x

Runny nose, pretty stamps

I've got a cold. That's all. Just a cold. It almost sounds benign and yet for the last couple of days I've been completely at it's mercy. I'm currently all tucked up on the sofa under my sick blankie with a large box of tissues by my side. Every now and then I get up and throw the used tissues on to the fire . There they slowly smoulder and glow in a way that very damp tissues do. Stupid cold. So as I lay here feeling all woebegone and Camille like I thought about what I could share with you. 

How about this?

As I was firkling around the charity shops recently I came across a small bag. No bigger than a pixie's envelope and marked up at £1. Being the curious type I ventured to investigate further. It seemed to contain a few old stamps. Being a fan of Viv Sliwka's envelope artwork over at Hen's Teeth I began to think how I could use them in some way. Realising I  a) was no way as talented as Viv, and b) already had a huge backlog of 'things to do something with' I almost put them back. 

But I didn't. 

So here they are.

A huge range of colours and images from across the globe.

Some familiar and not so familiar faces.

Incredible detail.

Iconic creatures

And landmarks

Franked 

And unfranked

Even Queenie looked glamorous

(which is more than I can say about myself at the moment!)

I wish now I'd taken more photographs in the daylight but the risk of causing a global hurricane with just one sneeze was too great.

I wonder who collected them and when. What tales did they bring?

But back to now. Old dolly is looking at me with - get this - her EYES! (yes she now has two eyes but nothing else as yet - looks odder than ever bless her!) And I'm about to smother the fire with my next lot of tissue. 

Oh snuffles.

Yours sniffily

Jane 

x