The spoilt brat's BORED...

Yes, you heard it right...

the pudden hanging in the hammock doesn't know what to do for the best?

Today dawned bright and clear, the plan was to go to an antiques fair, don't ask me why?

As if I haven't got enough old rubbish around the homestead.

We walked the dog. 

Hubs got the papers, took the rubbish to the visiting mobile tipper wagon - TWICE!

Both times the dust cart was jiggered and couldn't munch through our garden refuse,

I should have known then, the day was doomed!!!

A trip to take flyers to the hospice our charity for...

Kitsch and Stitch

planned.

Then on to the Marie Curie Antiques Fair to spread the word, get an idea of prices and generally SNOOP!

Hold tight...

just about to depart when I thought to check the venue...

Only 24 hours blooming late...

I ask you!

Breweries and pi** ups come to mind...

And I wouldn't 'mind' but, I haven't been taken out for

EONS!

Second best, we'll troll off somewhere else...

My heart wasn't in it though, even the thought of a pub lunch wasn't enough.

The traffic to Hastings was heaving...

I don't do queueing of ANY description...

"How common!"

Too much time mixing in exalted circles you might think...

and you'd be right.

"Let's just go home, have lunch in the garden"

A bottle of bubbly  was even mentioned by a grateful husband.

After luncheon and with my prudent gene in overdrive...

I declined the offer of bubbles.

And there you have it, a spoilt lump hanging in a hammock...

wondering what to do next for badness.

***

Am I a stroppy moo? Or does it...

just go with the territory of...

getting blooming old?

Why?

You might well ask...


I am incensed by people who drive while using a mobile phone.


Only yesterday in the village where I live, Lettice and I were crossing the road, when from out of nowhere a lady driving an Audi at speed appeared.  Worse than that, in a 30 mile a hour area she was gassing on the phone to a pal. 


Remember the cones hotline?  Don't tell me you've forgotten!


Should there be a driving whilst using a mobile phone hotline?


Or perhaps a web page of offending folks' numberplates.


Name and shame them.

or worse than that killing someone else, or even the kids in the back of your car!


What do you think?

The gravy train serving too many sausages...

Frau Merkel?

***


Hoover with your eyes...
senses alive...
the passing of a great man!


***

***

Saturday secrets...

my drink of choice...

Casillero del Diablo

Shiraz Rose 

Chile

if anyone can tell me how on my apple mac I add special symbols please do! 

Why?  Because I'm stoopid, that's why!

Every time I mention my special drink, it always reads rose as in floribunda, not rose as in pink tipple.


I am happy to announce that my special migraine-free wine of choice is the above mentioned 'anytime, anywhere' aperitif.


Today in the F.T. Weekend Magazine
Summer Food Special
 at long last my love of the pink stuff has been recognised.

So I'm not naff after all!
That's a blow, cos I was enjoying my naffness.


'The growth in popularity of pink wines has been one of the few success stories for wine retailers in the UK recently'  especially in the Kent region (that last bit's a lie!)
says Janis Robinson.
Now I've always considered myself a trend-setter, ahead of the pack and all that.  I don't mind admitting at times it did get a bit hairy saying 
'Rose for me please' 
Folk of my generation had images of bedside lamps and all that jazz.  You'll only know what I'm on about if you're of a particular vintage.


***


My other vice...
don't get too excited...

these little beauties.
Yes, I'm an unashamed Tomatoholic.


Wonder if both being red has some bearing on anything?


I used to be a champagne socialist...
not so sure now!


***
Dinner parties I read today in the papers are old hat, together with napkins.
Which is another vice of mine.
I do love a nice napkin...
No, not the sort you put on a babies bum, the tuck it in your cleavage sort.
And another thing...
NOT PAPER ONES...
perish the thought!
Beautifully laundered linen or cotton.
Apparently kitchen towel is the serviette of choice the F.T. article informs one!


What ever you do...
Never say serviette, nor yet own up to the liking of tomatoes.
You forever mark yourself as COMMON that's why.


In these days of status that would never do, would it?


***

A flavour of my Thursday...

new shoes...

aren't they just adorable?

I went yesterday for the first time in five years to a car boot sale!

I don't usually because I love my home, and I'm too idle to get in the car and go.

Trouble now is...

I love these huge Minnie Mouse shoes so much, I can see me sloping off again anytime soon.

These crazy patchwork curtains were made by me in Debs sewing class.

I ought to own up now there isn't love in each stitch.  There is however a cuss in each couple of inches.

Why Oh Why, did clever clogs elect to take on such painful process I ask you?

The lining is some lovely ebay material bought many moons ago,

think you can just see it on this photo.

These pictures are of my higgledy-piggedly veg plot

any similarity to the curtains is purely in your imagination!

I do love roughty-toughty; not in my men mind!

Sorry fellers!

My idle view on gardening is...

 plants have a better idea than you so...

let 'em get on with it.

These tomatoes I won't grow again, I bought it at a farmers market, can't remember the name and as you can see aren't worth the effort.  They don't taste that good either!

This wooden bird bought in Thailand is sitting atop of my perpetual 

sweet peas.  Idle gardening again, can't be bothered to plant one year and then wait until the next for the flowers.  These pop up every time, without fail.

Sage, fever few and hollyhocks jostle for prime position.

My rude, but oh so prolific courgette/squash.

 Raised beds with banana shallots and garlic.

My directors chair, smack in the middle of my greenhouse,the nerve centre of my horticultural operation.  From here feet up, glass of wine in hand, I survey my veggie domain.  Deafened by the sound of growing.

Crystal cucumbers clambering between a pretty little climbing plant.

A picture of my lovely Pop, who is now sadly gardening in the sky.

He keeps me company in my lair, we share some good memories over a glass of

something chilled on a many a summers' evening.

No this isn't a Beef Satay plant, it's the top of the glorious Sun gold tomatoes which never find their way into a salad...

Why?  Because I scoff them warm off the vine.  Hubs really has no idea of their deliciousness!

Spilling onto the path, snapdragon seeds, hollyhocks and

love-in-the-mist.

also known as Nigella.

Aren't the seed pods just the bees knees?

More rampant rude ones and mint.

Hollyhocks as high as an elephant's eye and it looks like their reaching right up to the sky.

I have been working as well today!

These two bags are nearing completion for the next 

Kitsch & Stitch Fair

on 3rd September.

Come and say Hi!

And finally a star find on Lettice's walk yesterday,

alright I know it has probably been blown out of the churchyard onto the lane.

As it was bereft of flowers I thought it was a fair cop!?!

When you wish upon a star
Makes no difference who you are
Anything your heart desires
Will come to you.

Toodle-pip!

*

I beaver away on and off all day in my studio...

for light relief I...

 troll up the steep, steep stairs to my eyrie under the stars, gathering white washing as I go...

for the 26th time (slight exaggeration) I check to see if anyone is blogging today. 

Up pops Viv and you know something, suddenly I wish I'd kept my blooming nose to the grindstone!

Why you might very well wonder?

Well I'll tell you, seeing as you're dying to know...

hensteeth (that's her!!!) has been airing her latest creations.

And I don't know about hensbloomingteeth but I'm sick to my back teeth because at a stroke (or stitch in her case!) she has made my pathetic efforts look what they are...

Compare a clapped out old nag to a racing thoroughbred and yes...

they've both got legs in each corner, have big yellow teeth and a warm soft prickly

nose.  And that is where the similarity ends. 

And there you have it.

You've either got it or you haven't.

My day has been totally ruined, realising I'm definitely in the latter category!

On a more serious note get yourselves over there before she sells all her wonderful wares. 

***

Little Miss Tippy Toes and Peter Prim were out on the razz...

With  PP clasped to my heaving bosom we gaily tripped into the station to buy an old dears' travel card (gone are the days, never to be forgotten, when on one memorable occasion the guy in the ticket office of York station asked me if I had a student railcard!)
I could see the headlines in the York Evening Press
"Man attacked by middle-aged traveller"
'Saved from the onslaught of wet whiskery kisses by the toughened ticket office glass, he was lucky to get away unscathed.'


I don't mind admitting I was three-timing Hubs cos I quietly slipped Alan Bennett into my bag, to keep me amused on the journey.
Now PP's a very dashing date however, he is lacking on the conversation front.  I draw enough funny looks when abroad without me drawing more, by my talking to my left t*t.  And although he looks good, he is a little dim, well any feller would be compared to my all time fav the one and only AB!


My mission was to be a cake and bunting judge at a very prestigious University in London.
Never one to pass up on a legitimate excuse for a jolly, we were off like a rat up a drain-pipe.

Peter here is happy to demonstrate the speed at which we travelled.

My toes are joyous to show the ravages of our traipsing, trolling and trawling through the West End.

We allowed four hours to shop 'til we dropped, factoring in two glasses of bubbles and a delicious cous cous luncheon in my favourite store John Lewis.


We dodged the one heavy shower, walked through Soho to the Cloth Shop a wonderous emporium if there ever was one - Go, I beg you it is well worth the effort!  I bought the sweetest tiniest shell buttons.
From there Libertys, then the length of Oxford Street, the wonderful shop whose name escapes me, in a road opposite John Lewis. Fabric'n'stuff, fashion student shoppers.  Just breathing the atmosphere there makes me come over all creative.


In and out of the shops we wend our way back up Oxford Street to Tottenham Court Road.
Arriving nearly on time, foot sore but happy, ready to polish off acres of cake.
My fellow judge was a trendy vicar in the parish of Del Boy.  He took it very seriously, me I just wanted to fill my, by now sore boots with cake!
We deliberated, digested and decided that the level of entries was extremely high.
But wait...
In these hallowed portals, where excellence is the utmost attribute, there was one entrant who shouted... 


IMPOSTER!


One Betty Crocker.


One taste was enough to alert me to her credentials.  The trendy vicar fell back in horror..


The bunting was a bit of a non-starter as there was only two entries. 


Didn't we have a lovely time the day we went to London.


I waved goodbye to WSD and floated home on happy, but sore tootsies.


*

Light through a prism hit me square between the eyes...

Sat on the Saturday sofa reading about Liz Taylor's jewels soon to be auctioned,  I felt a trifle sorry for myself.

Emeralds to match my eyes, what could be better I thought.

I need a wealthy man to give me all the things my grasping heart desires.

At that split second as if a bolt of lightening had struck... 

a shaft of light got me smack in my envy green eyes.

"Serve you right!"

I hear you splutter.

A thought flashed across my furrowed brow

'If this isn't a sign from above or even perish the thought, below, I don't know what is!'

Get real LL, bask in the glow of the love of a good man.  No amount of money can purchase it, even in the best auction houses of the world.

I got my bottom off the sofa to capture this moment with my camera and this is what it revealed...

A blooming spider has only made a nest in my fairy shoes hanging in the window...

That dazzling rainbow light revealed a lot to me...

1.) Stop feeling sorry for your spoilt lump self

2.) Be grateful for what you've got 

3.) Get a cleaner

4.)  Get a grip and grow up!