Friday, 30 December 2011

Blowing out the Cobwebs



The Beard and I have a tradition. 

We like to, during the last days of the year, head off to the coast to freshen up after the tiring, but uber fun, festive season.



We have nice breakfast, usually something eggy on toast. I have red sauce, he has brown. We both gulp copious amounts of Earl Grey to get us nice and hydrated for the day ahead.


Although, today, Mrs Weather Cloud decided to visit us with her own hydration. Despite this, I failed to take an umbrella with me. I am a fool.


After a nice and relaxed morning, where we did debate staying in on account of the inviting cocooning quality of candles in teacups, we finally headed off to Brighton. 

I had read, waaay back in the summer, this delightful post by The Owl & The Accordion
and as I knew we would be heading there, I hunted it down and found out how to get to the Brighton Flea Market. I had never been to that part of town before, but I am sure glad I found it. For it afforded me something I have been hunting for an age.

A single butter knife.


It may seem an odd thing to covet - but my Nan has always had a single knife for buttering, and until today, I had only even seen them in a bunch for purchase. For the hefty sum of 100 pence -  this bad boy was mine!


The rain held off once we got down to the sea front, so instead of marching forth with my head down, I stopped for a quick photo. I confess to being a little in love with this skirt. It has a sister in blue, which I stupidly washed and now need to iron the hell out of - but meh. They came to me from a charity shop for £3 each. Hurrahs. I am also wearing my first ever pair of thick knee high socks. Which I am also in love with.


We decided to get some chips -  as is the law when by the coast. This evil looking gull told me numerous times that they should be his. I told him to poke off.


For these were yummersome chips. They made me look a little manic, such was the delight they brought. 
(because I obviously have failed to eat enough crap to sink a battleship this festive season)


You can't have ANY Mr Gull. These are miiiiiiiiine!


Perhaps the next thing we did was a bad idea on account of the recent nommings, and The Beards aversion to heights. We decided to have a ride on the Brighton Wheel.


As we took off to enjoy a birds eye view of the seaside we love, I did think that The Beard might treat me to a private showing of Chips Revisited.


But, by the time the 2nd rotation over the grey sky line was starting, he felt a lot better. Which made me tres excited.

The day ended with rain, hair that lost all curl and had to be stuffed up into my beret and more old things including a Bakelite pin box and a whistling kettle.

This will be my last post for 2011 -  and what a year it has been. I have made so many friends via blogging it makes me a little teary to think about it in detail. From chums on Twitter to comments left by readers to fellow bloggettes that I have met up with on various occasions -  it has all been a ball.

Here's to 2012 -  see ya there!


Saturday, 24 December 2011

A Festive Message



So - here it is again folkettes. Another year, another season of red, green and goodwill to most men and all that. I am feeling distinctly un-festive this year. Despite having a December birthday, which means all things tinsel should at least ignite some kind of glee in my soul -  it ain't there.

 I am trying to decide if I am just to old of all this jazz now - or there is something wrong with my Festive Spirit. Perhaps she got lost in the post -  along with the cold weather?


But, all that said and done, it has not stopped me from decorating. I have pretty much sprinkled the flat with the same stuff as last year  with some new additions such as Crimbo bunting**. I don't give a hoot if people find bunting twee - I like my decorations to be missed when they are gone - and a strapping set of red & green embellished triangles shall suffice.

**replace the "B" with a "C" on the word bunting and you have how we actually feel about this addition  due to it continually falling down, spooking us with its whooooshing sound. We have now industrial taped it to the wall.
It will possibly never come off.


I have left my trench art (newest piece on the left) on the hearth and used a lovely old plate, that I found in a charity shop for a whole golden pound, as a centre piece.

We even fixed the dusty old lights in the fireplace for the occasion. Note the stuffed chimmney. It contains pilliows wrapped in black sacks to keep out the cold. Class.


I made some Christmas Pud bon-bons for our annual Yuletide shingdig with friends a couple of weeks back and decided to pull my bestest Nigella reaction for the photo.  But not a jot of this is making me feel remotely festive.

Not *even* listening to Happiest Christmas Tree a la Nat King Cole,
with a dash of Cool Yule from Mr Armstong. On repeat.


So I thought I would try to cheer myself with a knitted Christmas pudding tea cosie. I guess I could tell you all that I have learnt to knit, but I have not learnt how to knit, much to my consternation. So I bought this from Folksy. Me loves it.


And with my new camera, I snaffled a picture of blood red wintery sky. It is warm and bleak all at the same time. Ain't it pretty!


Whilst I watch the sun go down over Yuletide (in my rollers) and await a new year (because, honestly, I am done with this one. It whizzed by so quick, it has left me spinning!) I shall be having a snuggle with Mrs Elsa-Pops. And my own cats. Natch. I am hoping this shall cheer me somewhat.

The Beard and I are having the 25th all to ourselves where we shall eat roast lamb, drink red wine and watch Christmas movies in christmas pyjamas. I might not even wash my face. Yeah. That kind of day.

I sincerely hope you enjoy your's -  what ever you are doing.

Over and.....

Oh wait! I have a special message from a certain pushka to her parents - and to all of you lucious readers of my humbly offered waffles:


   

I think the Festive Spirit might have just knocked at the door....

Tuesday, 20 December 2011

The Cat's Of LandGirl Heights & a Yuletide Guest


In amongst all the many tons of old-lady toot at LandGirl Heights, there live 2 cats.

They can be hard to spot behind the piles of books and/or washing (I am such a slattern), so it is just as well they spend most of their time sleeping on our bed.

Usually on a discarded paper bag. 

Weirdo's.

Wanna meet 'em?



This is Charlie Girl. Not that she actually ever gets called that. 

She is known as Woo. Or Mrs Woo. Or Woozle-Bub.

She is a very sweet natured cat, until she does this....


She came to me via a friend and has proudly been carried round on my shoulder, like a infant that needs winding, for the last 8 years. She is convinced that she is, in fact, a human and displays this by sleeping, at face height, betwixt The Beard and I on a nightly basis.

When it's cold she wraps her spotty tummy round my head, which often wakes me in a dry mouthed sweat. She just mews and stretches out, radiating in my bonce heat.


The next pushka in my collection is Memphis. 

Or Memmy-Puss, Moof, Mr Memphas, Fluffy-Pants or Moofa-Choops.

He is a very pretty boy and he has been part of my life (and his fur in part of every meal I eat and everything I wear) for 7 years.


I rescued him as a kitten and he is the most lovable, yet scatty-skitty kitty I have ever met. He flaps & fusses if The Beard walks into the kitchen when he is eating, looks at him like he has never seen him in any one of his 9 lives and bolts. He then pads about on The Beards jumper as though he is his best friend. Freak.

As for me - he is a spoilt monster-puss and will only let me hold him about like a baby. This is my own fault, because I used to carry him everywhere in the crook of my arm when he was a poorly, freshly rescued kitten. He is a hefty adult now. Fat Moofter.

But. There is a new, temporary feline chowing down on the Go Cat this Yuletide....


We are looking after Miss Elsa of Penny Dreadful Vintage fame. 

PDV has jetted off for the warmer family filled climes of Oz for Christmas and we offered to scoop the poop, scratch the tummy of and furnish this beautiful moggy with an abundance of string whilst she is away. It was either that or a cattery - which would probably have cost more than her flight.


Not that she is actually called Elsa whilst she is with us. Her nick names thus far are:

Elsa-Pelsa, Miss E Hiss, Pelsa-Pops, Pops, Mrs Mewson and Christmas Cat.

There have been tense moments. I shan't lie. The Woo initially bounded up to her, as though she were a reflection, and then hissed. She hasen't stopped as yet. But. She will now share a room with her. Whilst hissing.

The Moof wants only to be her friend (and eat her leftovers) but Elsa has shooed him and his fluffy-pants away.


She is a stunning mog and we have considered moving and breaking all contact with her loving owners just so we can keep her. She is nudgy, drooly and purrrrsome. With talons of massivness. She loves to nom our streamers and is super quick when it comes to chasing twine. I have nearly lost a toe on more than one occasion.

Alas, she is not ours and our good deed shall be done and dusted by the beginning of 2012. So. I shall have to get in ooober extra hugs with Pelsa-Pops.

And here endeth the Cat Tour

Meeow-ver & Out!



Monday, 12 December 2011

An obscene amount of floral curtain


Winter is upon us. 

And as much as I love cold weather, I loathe being cold in my own home. Alas -  I also loathe high energy bills. Aside from putting masking tape on the window seals to combat the wind (a downside of living up high) wearing jumpers, fisherman's sock's from the market (for £3 -  Best. Things. Ever.) and heaving myself off the sofa to do to the occasional round of star jumps (much to the amusement of The Beard "..watch out love, you'll give yourself black eyes." Har. Har. Har)  -  I have had to look into alternatives.


Enter the "We-Need-A-Really-Thick-Heavy-Long-Curtain" conversation, the ensuing charity shop trawl, the possibility of making one's own and the eventual "This-Is-Impossible-We-Shall-Have-To-Spend-One-Million-Pounds-On-Tailor-Made's" chat. 

We gave up. 

Star jumps and the odd game of chase the cat round the flat it would have to be.



Until we went to visit The Folks. And were offered a luxurious, heavy, tailor-made curtain of length. When Mar and Par bought the house I grew up in (a 1930's semi -  WANT!), Mar begged Par for "real proper curtains". They cost a bomb. I remember it well. That said -  they are the only curtains I have ever known, such is their quality. 


And Mar had one spare. In the airing cupboard. A spare one with a pelmet. She offered it to me and told me that I could do with it as I saw fit.


Unfortunately, it was a tad too short for our balcony door. Where most of the breeze comes from, despite draft excluders. I cursed. I stomped. I started counting the pennies in my dusty purse for the One-Million-Pound-Curtain fund. 

I didn't get very far when an idea of monumental proportions slapped me in the chops.

TAKE THE PELMET OFF AND STITCH IT TO THE BOTTOM.

It is a testement to how well they were made as I managed to not mangle the hell out of them. Much cutting, stitching, more cursing and hair rolling later and...

 TAAAAAA-DAAAAAAAAAA!!! 



Curtains of Plenty!!

Thanks Mar!

Monday, 5 December 2011

Forest Green Coatery



I already have a coat.  In fact, I have several decent winter bluster-proof body coverings. Do not get me wrong. And were I an actual  lass from a bygone era-  I may only have had one good winter coat: ever.  

But I isn't. And so I have a few on rotation. Some, I have recently rotated out to the Age Uk Donate a Coat appeal.

So - when I saw, what I believe to be a 1960's coat of warmth for a snip at £10 in a charity shop, I needed it. 

Right? 



Whilst not flattering in shape on me - it was more than pleasing in shade. 

For it was green. A green of foresty hews of greeness. 


I tried it on and thought it to be hideous. I made the above face. The Beard mumbled a comment about Pat Butcher. I had to agree. But then I remembered by all time favourite ever ever ever accessory.


The humble belt!!

 Kept safely in the deep and cosy pockets of this wool / cashmere blend coat of bargains, it has pulled it all in and given it a shape I like.


This is my smug face. On account of the belt. And the price. And, most of all the toasty greenery that is now mine.

Yippy, yippy ,whoop, whoop, whoop!!!!




Thursday, 1 December 2011

Badges of Yuletide - Splendid Sponsors - Acorn & Will



The wondrous Acorn and Will have some tasty bits and pieces this season. I never fail to find something that creates a big ol' smile across my chops.


And with the season of giving and receiving upon us, how fab are these


 A step away from their usual bakelite inspired lovelies, I am a little bit in love with them for their retro-ness.


They remind me of the Christmas cards my paternal Nan used to send to me.


They would make a lovely stocking filler and  - for a snip at £1.25 each -  you could literally fill a stocking with them.


These are my bestest one -  but there are at least 10 others to choose from. I have to say, the snow man and cheeky robin have struck a cord with me. It would look lovely on a cardy


As would this glorious, cheery Santa. Or on a black dress for the office party perhaps? Hmmmm...

Tis the season and these kitsch bits make me jolly!!

Ho ho ho-over and out!
(geddit?


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