Saturday, March 26, 2011

Oh, Narcissus

I'm quite partial to a house magazine now and then. As I also have a soft spot for the overuse of the term "bespoke" and pictures of lovely leafy, rosy, willowy gardens, I like to occasionally get the British Homes and Gardens.

I feel that I should draw your attention to this fellow:

His name is Laurence Llewelyn-Bowen. Well of course it is! You don't cultivate a look like this and call yourself Bruce Bloggs. He is an interior designer and appears to be somewhat of a minor celebrity in the UK. I'm sure that he's a perfectly decent person in real life but they have really made him look an absolute twit here.

Photographed to endorse various companies making "bespoke" furniture; the advertisements are memorable but not in the way they intended, I'm sure. . . I actually look for the ads each time I get a copy of this mag but couldn't actually tell you what the rooms look like as I can't take my eyes of Laurence.

In his awkward, overdressed glory.

Here he is looking relaxed in a kitchen. Just about to whip up a batch of scones...obviously.

Hey, hey in a bathroom. Oops someone maybe should have cropped out the chinless profile reflection.

And my personal favourite, "Chika chika boom,  ladies here's a bedroom...with me in it". I'll just make it look like I'm buttoning up my jacket - next to this purposely tousled bed (nudge, nudge, wink, wink).


Monday, March 21, 2011


love 043 by Thneed

18 years ago today I sat on the Historian's doorstep waiting for him to come home.

It was a really beautiful, clear blue day but my stomach was a knot of fear. He rode up on his motorbike, took off his helmet and looked at me and I thought I would die from the electricity between us.

We both knew the gravity of this meeting. It was time to face up to how we felt and either choose to be together for the rest of our lives or walk away and vow to never see each other again. 

While being together was going to be enormously difficult; to be apart was actually impossible for us.

When you find your soul mate, you have to hang on as tightly as you can.

I   love   you.

Tuesday, March 8, 2011

Quite the Artist

Astrid LOVES to create "art". She is always busy drawing, painting, gluing and cutting and her volume of output at both school and home is astounding.

I have to admit that her "art" has up till now had a vaguely alarming skeletal horror type look to it that makes you a little uneasy and requires some tact in appraising.

"Look mamma, it's a bunny"
"Arrrrrrg...I mean, that's really lovely sweetpea. I didn't know that rabbits had such long claws, fangs"
"That's fur mamma"
"Oh. Well she certainly has a lovely smile" (I hope I never meet her in a dark alley though).

"The princess is riding on a unicorn"

"Well now, isn't she beautiful? I don't think I've ever seen a princess quite like her. Such lovely hair" (Doesn't look in the least bit creepy or like an Apocalyptic Horseman).

Thursday, March 3, 2011


I've been a bit quiet lately and it was terribly remiss of me as I should have posted about the lovely gift I received from the incredibly sweet Lauren at Grubby and Green.

Thank you so much Lauren, receiving this "warm fuzzy" from you was a bright shiny moment in a pretty blah month.

This wonderful little Liberty print purse is finished so beautifully with lining and a hand embroidered label, the letter set is ingeniously made from recycled milk cartons and there's a hand-made card with a lovely message. The patience and attention to detail put into these things is inspiring and brings into pretty stark contrast the sloppy, lazy mess that makes up EVERYTHING else around me at the moment.

All spark has been sapped, SAPPED out of me by: the horrid weather, the never ending saga that is our dining room, the Historian having to travel away from home too much and that I seem to have become allergic to our poor old geriatric cats. I say "poor old" as I'm constantly escaping from their attentions at the moment and Nori has been ejected from the bedroom at night...but seriously, cats, it's far too hot to be canoodling up to me at the moment anyway (stuffy, drippy sinuses or no).

So, my aversion to the heat has already been documented here but that won't stop me having another whinge about it as we start Autumn (which is really just more Summer, seasons?...HA!). We have just had our hottest summer on record - YAY -  (average temp 32C) and there's not much relief in sight. We have had 26 consecutive days with an average of 34C, although, what the statistics don't tell you is the heat starts really early (our night-time average is over 20C) and then stays all day. There's no building slowly to the peak in the middle of the day and then cooling off as the sea breeze comes in. It's far too uncomfortable to be outside between 7am and 7pm, except of course you have to go out so there are a lot of grumpy, exhausted and slippery with sweat people out there.

It's deflating and that's just how I feel: like a wrinkly, sad balloon with only a few puffs of air left in it.

After months (not an exaggeration) of scraping and plastering and painting we have finally got some colour on the walls of the dining room and while the "end" is in sight, it seems at times like one of those never ending hallway know, where you run and run and the end keeps telescoping away from you.
In other never-ending hallway type news, I have 360 more squares to do on the blanket for our bed.
Yeah, probably not an issue as it won't be required for some long, long, very long time yet!