Snooping

I do like a good snoop around people's homes don't you?

Of course you do!  So, while Grandpappy was away in Western Australia, I had a good poke about his house and I've taken a few pics just for you.  I know, I know, I'm just too good to you.

I hate to shatter your illusions of me but I'm a bit of a domestic slattern.  However, even I would be keen to do a bit of dusting if I had these rather glamorous looking ostrich feather dusters:

I could even get into a bit of rug beating if I had this pair of rug beaters which the Grandpapster has displayed on his wall:

I like this rather large copper receptacle which is also displayed on the wall:

I love this thingymajig don't you?

This my favourite drawer in the house:

My favourite tin:

Egads! A yummy suitcase:

And inside - Mr J and P's toys when he was a little boy:

Another yummy suitcase in pink:

The only surviving piece of vintage wallpaper in the house (in the cupboard under the stairs).  When I first started going up to the house in the Lake District, there was rather a lot of gorgeous 70s wallpaper in evidence.  Sadly, this is no longer the case.

Grandpappy's mother (so that's Mr J and P's grandmother), Gladys, was a keen painter of flowers.   She started painting in her 60s!

Not only was she a talent painter but get a load of her amazing quilted stuff:

Cushions:

Bedspreads made from very small hexies.  Lordy, must have taken her absolutely ages to do:

More teeny tiny hexies:

Oh and look what Mr J and P's brother made:

Yes, that's a pic of the old ginger wino himself, Mr J and P.  How sweet.

Have a great weekend.  I'm off, any minute now, on a 50th birthday (not mine) weekend away with 17 other females.  God help me.

Cheers m'dears. xx

High Jinks

So, over Easter, we stayed at Grandpappy J and P's house in the Lake District.  Although, as I mentioned in my previous post, he wasn't there.  No, he's currently swanning about in Western Australia.  Causing mayhem.

Not only did he lose his passport somewhere between the airport and his first hotel in Perth but he's been falling off bicycles - no harm done, thank goodness.  He's also been sleeping rough out in the bush.  Yup, he was walking a small part of the Bibbulum Track (a long distance walk trail of almost 1000 km), armed only with some water and a tin of cooked lentils.  He got lost and didn't find the campsite he was aiming for and ended up sleeping in the middle of the bush for the night.  Eeek!

The silly old fool also managed to lock himself out of his hotel bedroom wearing only a small towel around his middle.  I'm not sure what sort of accommodation he was staying in but there was no one around to help him.  To quote the old codger "For a quarter of an hour, I walked around trying all the doors which were locked and then I looked around to see if there were any spare sheets or blankets in accessible cupboards, but not a thing.  I considered spending the night in a bath (what?) which I could have topped up with extra hot water from time to time but I wasn't quite sure what it would do to my skin."  (OMG!).  Fortunately, he was saved from this ridiculous predicament by someone called Wally, who was some sort of night watchman.  Wally managed to climb through the window of one of the other rooms and let Grandpappy have that room for the night.  Hip hip hoorah for Wally is what I say.

While Grandpappy J and P wreaked havoc down under, we managed to do a fair bit of havoc wreaking in the Lake District.  Mr J and P, his bro and eldest nephew went on a 34 mile walk (yes, 34 miles) over 2 days while me and my SIL plus Little Miss J and P and youngest nephew spent the time charity shopping (more of that in another post) and walking around a lake or two.

Later in the week, Little Miss and youngest nephew decided to climb a mountain.  On their own.  It was supposed to be a lovely relaxing day playing, reading and picnicking by a stream as Mr J and P was feeling a bit achey after their 34 mile walk and Mr J and P's bro had done his knee in.  All was blissfully relaxing until Little Miss and youngest nephew went off and started to ascend said mountain.  We watched them go higher and higher, all the while thinking they'll turn around and come back down any minute.  They didn't.  They got to the top and disappeared out of sight.

Now, I'm not a mountain climber.  Not by any stretch.  I prefer terra firma.  The more firma the better if you ask me.  In a fit of madness, I agreed to climb up the mountain with Mr J and P to find the two little buggers.  At least I had proper walking boots on; Mr J and P was wearing Birkenstock sandals on his sainted little tootsies.  Despite this handicap, he managed to race up the slope while I huffed and puffed behind. 

Bloody children reappeared sometime later on crags way above us - both shouting that they were stuck and couldn't get down.  Mr J and P shouted to them to go back up and return the way they'd come up.  Which they did.  Eventually.  And do you know what the most galling thing was?  After they managed to get down from the craggy bit, they skipped gaily down the mountain in minutes while Mr J and P and me (well mainly me) struggled for a further 40 minutes picking our way down very slowly  and shuffling down on one's bottom (ummmm that was me).

What a caper!

If that wasn't bad enough, we had the police, fire-fighters, ambulance service, cliff rescue team, coastguards and the local life boat out to rescue our eldest nephew who got stuck climbing a rocky outcrop on a local beach.  It made the front pages of two of the local papers, the BBC news and the Daily Mail news website.

I kid you not, dear readers.

Here are some photos courtesy of the Daily Mail:

One of the rescue team abseiling down the cliff face to eldest nephew's rescue

Hoorah!

Cripes, it the lifeboat.

What a palaver eh?

Here's hoping you had a more restful time. xx

It's not all about patchwork......

You can all breathe a collective sigh of relief (I won't be offended) as this post is not, I repeat NOT, going to be about my patchworking activities.

It's been such an age since I posted anything about stuff I've bought that I've almost forgotten that I ever did.

First of all I just want to say that I've bought NOTHING, NOT ONE LITTLE THING,  IN A CHARITY SHOP ALL YEAR AND IT'S APRIL ALREADY.  Just thought I'd mention that.

I've only been to a measely three jumble sales this year thanks to Little Miss J and P's sporting activities and social engagements on a Saturday morning.  One morning, I missed out on FOUR whole jumble sales because I had to ferry the dear girl hither and tither.

I know you feel my pain, dear readers. 

Anyway, enough of the scarey hysterics and let me show you what I have bought recently.

I love enamel and I don't even mind if it's a bit chipped and rusty.  However, these lovely enamel bits and pieces were in very good nick.

A pale blue teapot for 50p:

A white coffee pot with blue trimming for 50p:

A yellow bowl (10p) with green trimming (my very favourite colour combo in enamel ware) which is snuggling next to a previous enamel buy:

A vibrant blue apron to add to my burgeoning collection (30p):

Mr J and P managed to find this old fashioned water bottle for 50p which is now being used as a door stop:

Oh and how topical, seeing as it's nearly Easter, a Russian wooden egg (30p):

one side

the other

We're off to the Lake District for Easter to stay at Grandpappy J and P's.  Except he won't be there (boo hoo).  He is swanning around western Australia by himself for 8 weeks.  Lucky devil.  Although, I must admit, I'm a little worried about him.  He is 84 you know.  And he managed to lose his passport somewhere between the airport at Perth and his hotel (eeeek!).  Fortunately, he's sorted that out now and is now in Albany (somewhere south of Perth), hopefully, checking out the op shops for yours truly *joking*.

Have a happy Easter everyone. xx