How fabulously folky is this vintage melamine tray?
My heart skipped a beat as I spotted it amongst a big pile of – ahem – less delightful items, in one of my favourite charity shops.
Suffice to say that I am very chuffed indeed with today’s find.
It is now happily at home on my kitchen shelf amongst my other bits and bobs.
There’s nothing quite like sleeping in lovely new bedding.
I can’t remember how I stumbled upon this pretty selection, but I did and I’m so glad.
The collection is based on archive designs from Horrockses Fashions, one of the most well respected ready to wear labels of the late 1940s and 1950s. Famed for their floral and abstract patterns, Pat Albeck (a mini obsession of mine) was one of the original Horrockses designers.
You can also visit their website for a free downloadable dress pattern.
All hail the return of Horrockses!
When I was growing up my family visited Yorkshire quite often.
My parents both hailed from Yorkshire. Whilst they were growing up they moved around and lived, separately, in various parts of the county, following fathers as they migrated with various jobs.
My parents met whilst living in Evington, near Leicester. Perhaps their Yorkshireness drew them together.
Despite the fact that neither parent had much in the way of family ties to draw them back there, Yorkshire featured strongly in my childhood.
We were taken to Bridlington and Robin Hood’s Bay and to York. We rode on the North Yorkshire Moors Railway and ate fish and chips in Scarborough. Much later, I learned that my parents honeymooned in Scarborough. We went on a boat on Hornsea Mere.
This is undoubtedly part of the reason why I have such a lasting fondness for Hornsea Pottery.
My parents took my sister and I to the Pottery on several occasions. I loved it: the vast acres of ceramics in various stages of manufacture. But most of all I loved the shop, where, at the end of the visit, we got to choose a gift.
Most times it was just a badge, or a pencil, or a key ring. But one memorable year each member of the family got a John Clappison-designed mug. A mug! Such a treat! We kept and used them for many years until, inevitably, they all got broken.
Hornsea Pottery is, alas, no more. Some of the designs are becoming quite collectable.
But that’s not why I like them. As well as their intrinsic beauty, they represent for me a part of my life that, like the pottery itself, is now gone forever.
I like doing appliqué on the sewing machine. It allows me to use scraps of fabric that are too small to include the luxury of a seam allowance.
Today’s project started as just a way to combine lots of little bits of vintage sheets and other vintage fabrics. Too small for proper patchwork, I decided to sew them onto a backing fabric and add a design on top.
This is the result. Its the second in what I imagine will be an ongoing series of lolly flowers. I like the way that the black of the Kaffe Fassett fabric and wool felt used for the flower and leaves pop against the faded pastel softness of the sheets.
All that remains is to turn it into something… cushion cover? framed panel? We shall see.
We were in Dorset at the weekend. We bought, as we sometimes do, some produce from a stall by the roadside. Half a dozen eggs.
The best eggs I ever tasted came from Gill’s hens at Bangors Organic in Cornwall. Lad and I reminisced about breakfasting on Gill’s eggs. We anticipated poached egg heaven.
I went to make my lunch yesterday and got a shock: they weren’t ordinary eggs. They were huge. They were blue. Dinosaur eggs!
But no, they were duck eggs. Mallard, probably, according to my local greengrocer, who sells duck eggs. I felt uncertain what to do with them. He suggested cakes.
After an online trawl I found a recipe for duck egg lemon curd. I thought that if the duck eggs were a little strong, the lemon would disguise it.
My grandmother, who lived with us when I was growing up, and later my mum, made fabulous lemon curd. A big lemon curd tart was my favourite of the Yorkshire desserts I grew up with. I haven’t eaten it since my mum died.
The eggs worked out fine. The lemon curd tastes lovely. My partner, who is vegan, will have to miss out, but my mum would be happy to know that lad likes it.
Possibly even more than poached eggs.
I have been searching for a new desk for a very long time. The ikea pine corner desk in residence was a necessity purchase. Too big for the space. Too rickety. Too ugly.
I began my search when I was earning money and the world was my oyster, desk-wise. But as with most things, I do not leap into buying furniture. I tip-toe.
Yesterday, this little lovely was sitting in the charity shop down the road. Not in the window. But that didn’t stop my beady eye spotting its perky leg peeping out from behind the fabric screen, just visible through the door.
I inspected. I hesitated. I went back for another look later on. I didn’t have my tape measure with me. It didn’t matter. I told myself that if it was still there in the afternoon on my way up to school, it would be mine.
It was, and it is.
It cost less than the ikea desk.
Its lock doesn’t work. It has children’s graffiti on a drawer edge. It has a strip of missing veneer. One of its little drawers has a screw instead of a knob. It is, frankly, a bit orangey. No matter. I will make it lovely.
