Tit for Tat!

Some of you have been bemoaning the fact there has been very little in the way of thrifty bargain hunting recently.  Tell me about it.  Every day I nip into our local charity shops  in the vain hope that I might see something that I'd want to buy.  But not a sausage, dear readers.  Not even a box of tampax (thank you for sharing that Scarlett) or a £99 china sheep ornament (remember, I blogged about that here.)  Instead, I have to contend with pairs of tights (seconds) for a fiver a pop or a used Marks and Spencer's hand and body lotion for £1.59 when a few doors down in Marks and Spencer itself, a new hand and body lotion will set you back 99p.  What is the world of charity shops coming to?

Anyway, never mind all that.  Let's focus on the positive shall we?  Like what I bought at a recent jumble sale.  Whoop! Whoop!

Yay, I've been bringing more tat into the house - a phrase that Mr J and P likes to use rather too frequently.  However, this time, even Mr J and P is getting in on the act.  This first buy was one of his.  It's a lovely cornflower blue jug.  Made by Dudson Bros.  The information on the internet says that the year an item was made appears beneath the backstamp.  This jug has the numbers 45 beneath the backstamp. So, it could mean it was made in 1945?  Dunno.  Doesn't matter, I like it whatever the date.

Sorry, couldn't get this photo the right way round

A Pyrex platter:

More embroidered linen.

I've collected these in order to make this patchwork cushion:

And by jingo, I think I've got enough at last.  Probably more than enough.  I've got no excuses now, I'll have to make the darn thing.

It's a good job, I got this lucious barkcloth craft bag at the jumble.  Perfect to store all manner of embroidered cloths and even the squares for the patchwork picnic blanket that I'm making. 

On a more sobering note.  Went to a boot sale recently.  Waste of time. It's really not the season for boot sales round our way.  Too few stalls and too much rubbish.  Oh, and ermmmm, this:

Focus on the pink box in the middle

Brought a blush to poor Mr J and P's cheeks, I can tell you.

And, no, we didn't buy them.

Although, with Valentine's Day approaching, I am a little fearful, I may be presented with my very own pair.  Yikes!
xxxxxxxxx

Fifties Fabulousness & galloping gourmets (well, just the one gourmet actually)

I am a very lucky blogger indeed.  Before Xmas, the gorgeous Curtise from The Secondhand Years sent me a fabulous parcel of lovely things.

Curtise remembered that I'd commented elsewhere about Graham Kerr aka The Galloping Gourmet (celebrity chef back in the 70s).  

The GG used to do his cooking in front of a live (I think) studio audience and at the end of the show invited a lucky audience member to come up on the stage and eat the yummy meal with him.  When I was little, I used to sit at the dinner table playing with my food and in my mind I was the Galloping Gourmet preparing a magnificent meal.  I'd be cutting up my sausages lengthways and stuffing them with mash and then getting someone from my imaginary audience to tuck in with me.  Aaaaaah, such happy memories.

A "fascinating" fact:  Graham Kerr cooked a lot with butter and cream and it wasn't until his wife had a heart attack that he learnt the error of his fat and cholesterol filled ways and started cooking low fat meals.

Curtise also sent me the Woman's Journal from 1958.

It's fascinating. Every little bit of it. From the short stories and their amazing illustrations:

Oooh er

Awwwwww

to the knitting and dress-making patterns:

and the recipes:

Ummm, yes that is a big pile of bacon and waffles you can see

But the biggest thrill for me has got to be the adverts.  There are literally hundreds of them and every one's a classic.  Here are just a few of them for your delectation:

Nylons

More nylons

That bed looks on the verge of collapse to me

Those biscuits don't look very inviting

Love this Persil advert.  Who'd have thought I'd be drooling over washing machines?

And pedal bins.

Lovely bedspreads:

How amusing:

Curtise also gave me a lovely pinny and hankie.  As she put it, I'll need a pinny while I cook and then "a sit down with a nice magazine and a hankie.  Because you are a lady."  Thank you soooooo much, Curtise. *Mwah!*

One last thing before I toddle off.  I've actually been CUTTING UP SQUARES TO MAKE A PATCHWORK PICNIC BLANKET.  *Squeal*.  Sorry about the attention grabbing capitals and the shrieking, dear readers, but this is exciting news in my world.  Yes, little old moi has been snipping away merrily on a project that I started, ummmmmmmmmm, a mere two years ago.  Watch this space.......

Right, I'm orf.  Pip pip. xx

It's sick blad innit?

Yesterday, at work,  one of our PhD students who's in his 20s was chatting with the youngest member of our team (also in her 20s) and the resident male.  Resident male is 42 but likes to get down with the kids innit.

Anyway the PhD student had been in a meeting with some academics where one of the academics had used the word "hip" as in "cool" several times.  "Oh God," said the student "it was sooooooooo embarassing...".  Student goes on to say "It's like my mum, when she says "trendy"...."  Cue much rolling of eyes and shuddering.

"What's wrong with 'trendy'?"  I cry.  Student, young and male colleagues look at me sadly.  Student says "Well, if you want to say 'trendy', that's fine but......".  Doesn't finish his sentence (there clearly is no hope for me) and turns away to continuing chatting with the other two.  Resident male colleague says "Well, 'trendy' is a bit dated; it's like 'stylish'...........  " 'Stylish'!"  I shriek "There's nothing wrong with the word 'stylish' ".  The conversation carried on for a bit longer as other adjectives were discussed - you know "wicked", "sick", "dope", "cool" etc.  Ad finitum.   zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

I'm still reeling from shock.  Dear readers, tell me straight, when did words such as "trendy" and "stylish" become embarrassing?  I've never used "hip" myself but I quite like "groovy" and "lovely".  Nothing wrong with "lovely" in my book.

Well, I can't sit here chatting to you all day.  Much as I'd really like to.  I'm taking a break from wrapping Xmas pressies for friends and their gazillion offspring that we haven't seen since before Xmas.  Yes.  That's right.  Wrapping.  Xmas.  Pressies.  In.  January.  Decidedly unwicked if you ask me.

Peace out, blad*. xx


*  "blad" as in "friend" or "bruv".  Not "blad" as in "one of the most commonly used Russian swear words".  No, definitely not.

Happy Holidays

Blimey, Xmas seems a while ago doesn't it? 

Well, I'm back.  Back from my holidays.  Yes, I did say holidays.  Yup, South of France, no less.  Nimes to be exact (in Languedoc-Rousillion close to Provence).

I was obsessed with facades

The crumblier the better.

People often ask how the heck do I manage to go on so many holidays a year.  Well, I'll let you into our little secret:  we try to do them on the cheap.

Oh and the shutters...

....shutters galore

We're lucky that Grandpappy J and P lives in the Lake District AND in Spain so we're in the Lakes twice a year and toddle over to Spain for one week a year.

Signs - I was obsessed with those as well

Lovely signage going on here with a nice table and chair effect

I especially liked faded signs

Lots of faded signs

An old sign

Not so old signs

This year, as well,  we intend to do house swaps with friends in Kent and Norfolk.  That'll be fun and completely FREE to boot!

I like a good knocker  - even when it's a bit rusty

And it's a good job we like camping because what we tend to do is to go on four camping trips in the summer:  three long weekends in this country with three different sets of friends and a week long trip abroad (usually France but we have been to Belgium and Germany).  

Van Gogh lived in Arles for a while.  If you look carefully, you'll see  that this picture is made from leaves, seeds and twigs.  Ingenious n'est pas?

We even took our lightweight tent and camping paraphernalia such as pots and pans, cutlery, plates etc (I kid you not) on our 4 week trip to California the summer before last  and to Slovenia last year.  Oh yes, we're hard core!  It's little wonder that Little Miss J and P  has started to look longingly at 5 star hotels....

A picture of a sign that Little Miss J and P took - it shows an unhealthy interest in  5 star hotels if you ask me.

Of course, all this burbling on about holidays is just a cunning ploy to slip in a few of my holiday pics and bore you all to death.  Ooops!

It's never too early to start thinking about holidays in my opinion.  Haven't got any planned as yet for this year although I'm thinking Berlin (and the lightweight tent - maybe) for my birthday in June.  How about you?  Planning anything for 2012?  I'd love to know.

Happy New Year!  xx

It's nearly Chwreathmas

Went to the Power of Making exhibition at the V&A Museum on Sunday.  This exhibition has been on for some months now and as per usual I'm late in jumping on the bandwagon.

Loved it.  It really took crafting to another dimension.

Get a load of this life size "crochetdermy" bear:

This fabulous dress made entirely of pins:

A giant gorilla made of hundreds of wire clothes hangers:

To quote the blurb in the programme "Making is the most powerful way that we solve problems, express ideas and shape our world.  What and how we make defines who we are, and communicates who we want to be."

Mmmmmm.  Quite who I "want to be" with this make, I dread to think......

Yes, dear readers, it's that time of year again when I show you my plastic bag Xmas wreath fashioned from a  wire clothes hanger and strips of plastic bags (the transparent ones you find in the supermarket for fruit and veg).  I know, I know, it's too exciting for words, isn't it?

Last year, it looked like this:

This year, I thought I'd spruce it up a bit and add a couple of glittery penguins and a pink flocked reindeer:

Mr J and P thinks that I've "really gone and done it this time".

At first, instead of the pink flocked reindeer, I had the pair of purple feathery wings that I showed you in this post.  I'm happy, though, with the pink flocked  reindeer.  On the negative side, it does bang against the door when it's windy causing me to remark on more than one occasion "Who the devil is that at the door!".  Mr J and P has also complained that he's been woken up more than once by the knocking reindeer.

The offending "knocking" reindeer in close-up

My, how we suffer for our Christmas creativity.

Bye everyone. Have a good one. xxxxxxxx

Clutter Clearout

Hold the front page!

Decluttering Debacle at J and P Towers!

Little Miss J and P spent three days, last week, emptying her room of STUFF.  I'm trying to convince myself that this is a good move.

When I asked in a small tremulous voice "What the heck are you doing?", she replied "Mum, I'm having a clutter clearout."  When I asked, incredulously, "Why?" (clutter clearouts are few and far between at J and P Towers), she replied "Seriously, mum, I'm not a hoarder like you!".  Well, that told me.

Mr J and P and myself have been observing this daily de-clutter with horror and something resembling fear at the teetering PILES OF STUFF that have been DUMPED on the landing outside her room (and ours) making the landing and stairs a danger zone. 

I thought that decluttering was meant to be carthartic and liberating.  Quite frankly, dear readers, this exercise has been a complete nightmare for me. 

I've ended up going through the piles and dividing them into more piles than you can shake a proverbial stick at.  At one point we had:

1.  a pile for the charity shop

2.  a pile for recycling

3.  a pile for the bin

4.  a pile for a possible car boot sale

5.  a pile for ebay

6.  a pile to give to friends

7.  a pile which Mr J and P and myself have lovingly rescued containing puffin books (some of which belonged to a little Mr J and P) and annuals (all of which belonged to a little moi).

Apart from the piles for the bin and the recycling, nothing else has left the house and stuff is still languishing on the landing or in bags in our bedroom until I can:  a) get to the charity shop, b) see our friends, c) find somewhere to store the items destined for ebay and the boot sale, d) find shelf space for the lovingly rescued puffins and annuals.

On the plus side, Little Miss J and P's room has become some sort of minimalist haven.  Although, Mr J and P has just reminded me that no-one has tackled what might be lurking under her bed.  Aaaaaargh!   I think we'll be needing a white coat, surgical mask and gloves to investigate the horrors under there......

Weird Wings

I was feeling a little smug yesterday.  A bit like one of those supermummies, who, at 8.30 pm on Thursday, when their darling daughter announces that they are dressing up as a fairy at school the next day on some dressy-uppy-day-thingy and they need some wings to complement their outfit and the suppermummy calmly replies "Yes, of course, darling, I'll just whip you up a pair of wings.  Won't take a few minutes..."

Except, that scenario didn't quite happen.  When confronted by this demand at ridiculous o'clock last night, my reaction was "No way, Jose".  After several minutes of whingeing and whining on Little Miss J and P's part,  I thought I had a brainwave.  I plucked the purple feathery wings decoration from the Xmas wreath (I'll be telling you all about the wreath debacle in another post, don't you worry) and attempted to attach them to Little Miss J and P's hoodie.  

Unfortunately the wings were not for attaching.

So, then I had another brainwave.  I found some white felt and white feather trimming languishing in the sewing box.  (No wonder, the feather trimming was languishing, the bloody thing moulted all over the place while I was fiddling with it - v. annoying).

Using the purple feather wings as a template, I drew the outline onto the white felt, cut it out, sewed (yes, sewed) the feathery trim onto the felt and, lo and behold:

A set of feathery wings which I rustled up in MINUTES.

I attached them to Little Miss J and P's hoodie with safety pins.

Here's hoping there are no safety pin mishaps today at school!

So, yes, I was feeling smugly supermummyish until I overheard Little Miss J and P, this morning, say to her little friend over the phone "Yeah, and my mum made me this set of weird wings."  The cheek of the child!

"Weird wings" indeed!

Disgruntled of Blogland. xx