Corner of my Home (beware LOTS of pics)

This week I'm joining in with Kylie and Donna's   "Retro and Vintage inspired corner of my home" linky party.

Let me present to you our dresser which lives in the corner of the dining room:

A close up:

The dresser (not old at all) houses some of my various collections such as my Meakin coffee pots:

More coffee pots, the red Habitat 70s one on the left and a Palissy "Madeleine" on the right (I've also got coffee cups and saucers to match):

A couple more coffee pots in the background.  The chrome one on the left is Melitta from Germany and the one on the right is another Meakin called "Midnight Star".

Oooh a close-up of my favourite jam pot.  It's soooo cute.

A Hornsea coffee pot on the left and a rabbit teapot.  I bought the rabbit teapot from Liberty as a prezzie for Mr J and P when we first got it together - over 20 years now (egads!).

A rather cluttered shelf with a few Swedish glass vases and some of my collection of salt and pepper sets:

Yes.  My salt and pepper collection.  I've been meaning to bore you with that for a long time.......and here's my chance!

A jumble sale buy from yesteryear:

Another jumble sale buy from yesteryear:

More jumble sale buys:

The  following two sets were bought for me by Mr J and P from Brick Lane market in east London if I remember rightly:

You may well wonder what is peeping behind the ridiculously large pompoms on this lamp?

Recognise the pompoms?  From my failed attempt at making a pompom wreath here.

It's one of Mr J and P's (many) "family heirlooms" (so he likes to call them.  I won't go into what I like to call them.....).  It's a buddha lamp from  Singapore when Mr J and P's granny lived there in the 1940s.

A few of the Mexican tin animals that I've stuck onto the dresser courtesy of Mr J and P's bruv went he went to Mexico some years ago:

On the windowsill next to the dresser are an owlie salt and pepper set and...

wooden chef salt, pepper, paprika and allspice shakers:

On the door nearest the dresser is my lovingly painted knob rack......

with my modest collection of pinnies:

Well that's all folks.  I'm off to Kylie's to slobber over some vintage nooks and crannies.  I do hope you'll be joining me. xx

The incident of the pickled peppers

Recently, I found this in our kitchen cupboard. 

A very "innocent" looking jar of pickled peppers with a dainty cloth cover.  I think you can tell how this story is going to end already can't you? 

At first, I couldn't think where I'd got it from because it's not something I would normally buy.  Then I remembered that Mr J and P's bruv and partner make jam and chutneys for their boys' school fete and sometimes give us a jar or two.  So I naturally thought it was one of theirs.  They also have an allotment and I thought aaah yes they'd grown some bell peppers that weren't massively successful (they were on the small side) and so decided to pickle them.

Content with this explanation and knowing that Mr J and P's bruv and partner aren't too keen on spicy food, I popped a few on my plate one lunch time to perk up some plain old pate on toast.

So what happened, dear readers, is this.  I popped a WHOLE of one of the "innocent" looking peppers in my mouth, chomped on it, swallowed and then seconds later, all hell was let loose.  The pepper was beyond HOT.  So goddamn HOT that I ate all the yogurts in the fridge, drank all the milk and attacked the ice-cream in the freezer.  They didn't help.  My mouth was on fire and not only that but my legs wouldn't keep still - so much so that I ran up and down the stairs several times.  I almost hit the streets for a jog - and that is something that I'd never do.

After what felt like an age - a very hot and fiery age - the tingling and the fiery mouth subsided but I didn't feel my normal jolly little self for a long old while.  Dear me, that certainly livened up my Sunday afternoon.

What got me was the label on the offending jar. I mean, all it says is 'Pickled Peppers'. 

No indication of how freaking hot they were. As the chili cognosente among you will, no doubt, have already realised, the peppers weren't of the bell variety at all but the "deadly" Scotch Bonnet.  According to wiki, they are "exceptionally hot" (that, I can vouch for) and rate very highly on the Scoville Scale - which is like the Richter Scale for the chilli pepper world. 

A bell pepper

Bloody scotch bonnets.  In Guyana, they're known as the "ball of fire".  I know!

The odd thing is when I questioned Mr J and P's brother and partner about their mislabelling, it transpires that they weren't responsible for trying to poison me at all.  Where did they come from?  Why am I such a complete nincompoop? 

It's completely baffling.....

Any food-related faux pas as ridiculous as mine?  Feel free to share....xx

Plonked

Do you remember what I said in my last post about stalking the bric-a-brac tables at jumble sales?  Just in case you missed my *cough* sage words *cough*, I did mention that it was worthwhile revisiting the bric-a-brac tables at jumbles because helpers sometimes put out extra stuff or you simply just miss seeing something good the first time around.

Well, on my second trawl around the bric-a-brac tables recently,  I found not one

not two

not three

but six of these little beauties.  For my collection.  All for 30p.

Massively exciting, I know you'll agree.  But my problem has always been how to display them.   I've seen on the internet that some people hang them on walls but we just haven't got the wall space in our kitchen.

From here

Some pop them into frames but then you've got the problem of finding suitable frames and we've still got the lack of wall space issue.



From here

Some pop them into interesting looking receptacles:

I had originally plonked them (and when I say plonked, I really mean plonked) in a vintage aluminium measuring jug that I picked up from the Guides Bazaar for 50p:

But now that I've got so many of the darn things, the jug just won't do. 

So I got this basket from here (a tenner) and plonked (there's that word again) in it my now, rather large collection of utensils.

Not the most beautifully displayed, I know, but what is a body to do!  Mr J and P says that I'm a basket case.  I'm ignoring him, and not for the first time....xx

Crawling out of the woodwork

Yes, I've finally surfaced.  Whaddya mean you hadn't noticed I'd been away?  Cheeky.  It's all this going to bed early mallarky.  It leaves me no time to do anything.  Blogging included.  Yeah, I know, I'm such a saddo.  I need to get a life.

When I've not been an A1 dullard, I've been taking photos of my recent jumble sale spoils.  Wanna butchers?

Four of these blue dishes for 30p:

A cute Holkam pottery lidded bowl for 50p:

My new compost bin (50p):

Two single sheets and two pillow slips in this:

A handy jumble sale tip.  It's always a good idea to keep stalking the bric-a-brac table/s as sometimes, new stuff gets put out or you simply spot something that you didn't spot the first time round - often because it was lurking underneath something else.  Take this little beaut which I spotted on my second trawl around the bric-a-brac.  It was covered in cutesy animal figurines (they were horrid) and all I saw was this:

Once cutesy and horrid ornaments were removed and lo and behold, it's a fabulous glass covered tray with a Vernon Ward print.  A mere 30p.

Another handy jumble sale tip is don't be scared of grubby.  One of my favourite purchases, my large enamel colander which I use as a fruit bowl was, on first sight, not pretty. 

Scrubbed up a treat though.

Neither was this:

I'd been searching for a mirror to go into our not so newly wallpapered loo for ages.  Mirrors on ebay cost far too much especially when you factor in delivery and I really didn't want to pay a lot.  Anyway, this mirror was lurking in a box under the bric a brac tables and not only was it hideously grubby but it was sticky.  Readers, I'm not squeamish but it was seriously sticky.  Eeeewww!  So sticky and grubby in fact that I baulked at the 50p the helper wanted to charge me.  Well, Mr J and P was more than happy to pay 50p for it and after a good scrub, it's not half bad. 

We went away for a week over Easter to visit Grandpappy J and P in the Lake District and one of the topics of conversation was who was the most embarassing parent. According to Little Miss J and P, little old me is the most embarassing * shock horror*.  Mainly because I'm, in her words, "always singing and humming." In public too. Perfectly normal behaviour in my book.

Grandpappy J and P (aka Mr J and P's dad) was definitely the most embarassing parent according to his offspring. When Mr J and P and brother lived at home, Grandpappy frequently used to take himself off for a walk wearing his dressing gown over his clothes and clutching a cup of tea.

Mr J and P's bruv told me of the time that Grandpappy turned up at his school to some event wearing the shortest of shorts (as was the fashion in the 70s), a wide brimmed straw hat (probably a woman's) and smoking the stub of a cigar. Classic.

Grandpappy, I salute you.  After all, we embarrassing parents must stick together.

How about you?  Are you an embarrassing parent and, if so, why?  How did your parents succeed in embarrassing you?  Do tell.  I want to hear all the gory details.   xx