Saturday, February 27, 2010

My heart went pitter patter

 Sometimes I walk around the boot sale and I think I'm not going to find anything. Today was windswept and a bit bleak. Then, just before the end, on the far corner of Ernest's table. Bagatelle game, 1940's. Still has all it's little iron balls in the nifty slidey thing at bottom.

Friday, February 26, 2010

Makes me feel like sitting on the lawn with my Pimm's no.1


 Thanks again Miss T, for the fabric shopping trip to Liberty's. I'm saving the purple satin ribbon.
My dear Dad's recipe for Pimm's no.1 Cup:
One and a half tots Pimm's
Half tot Grenadine
Dash of Bitters
Cucumber Peel (one in glass &; one for decoration)
1 Slice of orange
1 Slice of lemon
1 Maraschino cherry on a stalk
Shake and top up with lemonade and ice.
How I miss him.

Wednesday, February 24, 2010

Beach Beauties

 I love love love old run-in beach/picnic/camping paraphernalia. It's getting harder to come by. Found these at the boot sale a few weeks ago.

My mom used to call them broeks


 Last winter I found a great sewing pattern company called Colette. Recently they posted a free pattern for these Madeleine Mini Bloomers, and now I see them popping up everywhere! I took a break from writing today to do some mending and made these quick-sticks.

Sunday, February 21, 2010


 Who knows. This morning at the boot sale, leaning against an old Kenwood blender.

Friday, February 19, 2010

Where will we find the French Crepe Man now ??

 Sad to hear that the Vintage Fair at the Biscuit Mill is closing down. I've found some good stuff there. 
I spoke to a trader at the boot sale this morning and she told me that the stalls at the Biscuit Mill were R250.00/day. The stalls at the boot sale are R30.00/day. I know they are worlds apart, but still!

Swampfolk in Space


 I tend to shop when I'm feeling blue. The mister and I collect mini figures. They are like lucky packets for not-so-grownups. I bought five one day. Five. Now they are in my dreams.
We stood on a red planet drifting in the sparkliest sky. Like Alice, our heads ballooned and our bodies shrank. Because our little arms couldn't reach, our giant friend was preparing us for the journey. She bent down and scotch-taped little packets of memories behind our ears. Also the garage remote. We stood side by side, holding tiny hands, staring at careening comets and satellites. Then we hurtled into yawning deep space. On the way home, we passed a mighty cat who was howling with hunger and licking his lips.

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

I think they're Italian


 I bought these tile roundels in Kalk Bay at Kwagga Books. The tag said "In the style of Luca della Robbia". On the back is a hallmark I haven't yet been able to identify. 

 Yesterday I tried to embroider fire. It's more difficult than I thought it would be. And I don't have any instructions....


Tuesday, February 16, 2010

Found gazing out to sea last week-end:


 They were sharing a table with a row of kewpies and a silver dinner gong.

The Red Procrastination


 Finally finished. It hung half-heartedly on Shirley (my dummy) for almost three months. All because I hate  making buttonholes. Then I had an epiphany: press studs! So now red has one button, no holes and drucknopfe. Bouton pression. Snap fasteners. And for anyone wondering - it's Liberty Lawn, from David Bellamy's shop in Muizenberg. I love that shop.

My Own Personal Jesus

 I get very fretful when I skip a day's shopping at the week-end boot-sale. I've been going there, rain or shine, for the last fifteen years or so. I have my established favourites - my lovely lady with the quirky and romantic eye, the gallant Italian gentleman with his evocative basil plants, the daydreaming bottle man, the laissez-faire tribesman, a debonair young collector, the genial man on the corner and the raffish Ern, always with a twinkle in his eye. These people greet you like a long-lost friend every day. Then of course there are those whom you see again and also greet, only to be met with vague suspicion. I persevere in hope.
Our house is filled with market finds - I love the idea of owning an object of mysterious provenance. I like to imagine the turn of events that led up to it being there. Last saturday I found a faded silky rug over a car bonnet, Jesus in a medallion, surrounded by foliage. Beside it, a sentinel radio broadcasting a cricket match. As I walked away with it rolled up under my arm, the tribesman called: Now I've lost reception for Jesus Radio! I called back: And I am walking with the Lord!
A little further on, I found this disgruntled lacquer pot: