This little pig went to market.

If you were to go back to the beginning of this blog, some five years back, you'd see that it was originally a record of my finds at the Milnerton boot sale. And then you would see that life stepped in, not shortly after.

But I still go to the market whenever I can and I still find things there that I love.

This morning Bev had a pair of Victorian wick trimming scissors for my growing collection of used tools. Ernest phoned me last week to say that he had found some wooden cotton reels for me. They have become a passion - I must have close to two hundred by now.

Last night's dream about Tuareg necklaces came back to me with a shiver as I held the one above. When I told Bev she said: Oh Darling no - then you must have it. She refused to let me pay.

I believe in these things you know...

Autumn, because it falls.

Over the years I had often seen a woman at the boot sale, and wondered about her. She was beautiful, young, but with long snow white hair. Often we would stop to admire the same thing. It made sense then that I would finally meet her at B's house. And find out that she is a mathematician - a code breaker. B was opening a tiny shop in her beautiful little house. There was a pair of scissors for every guest, so that we could all cut the ribbon strung over the doorway.

B is my favourite trader at the boot sale. Her house is a continuation of everything I have always loved about her stall. It is filled with careful consideration. She invited me for fruit cake and Earl Grey tea one day, and told me her life story. I am lucky to know her.

On the day of the opening, the white-haired mathematician was in charge of sales. She did the adding up of amounts in an interesting way. And fast!

She told me yesterday that she and her boyfriend had just returned from Kyoto, where they had seen the cherry blossoms.

Dale the bottle man proudly presented me with a signed copy of his new book. We spoke about our love for blue and white porcelain and where to pick up old shards.

I bumped into Braam and we stood for a while at Bob's stall, ruminating over some African sculptures, as we ate our cheese straws from Rosa's. Bob, as always, doffed his hat.

Ernie tried to convince me to buy a lovely kelim, but I wasn't in a buying mood. He laughed and said: Okay dearie!

These long days. If I arrive home while it's still light, my greatest pleasure is to walk around the garden sipping a gin and tonic, noticing the changes. How a small hawk-eye caterpillar can eat an entire arum leaf in a day and grow proportionately. Baby leaves appear on new plants. The pincushion bushes are budding for their late winter glory. The aloes are magnificent.

I watch the mourning doves after I scatter some seed. There will always be a big guy who'll try to chase the smaller ones away.
But while he turns his back, there will always be others to take his place.
I watch the comings and goings of a cloud of black butterflies. They stayed for three days, then left.

 The dozens of reminders that life goes on in its brutal and sometimes beautiful way, whether you want it to or not.

The Milnerton Market

When I started writing here, my idea was to have a place to talk about all the things I have to find for my job as a set decorator/props master/art director and often end up buying, either for work or myself. Of course, as these things do, it evolved into something else - though it's still about finding stuff,
tangible or not.

I do a good deal of shopping at the boot sale in Paardeneiland. (It started on a field in Milnerton and the name stuck) I've been going there for years and often it's quite sociable - one tends to bump into people that you know and have a bit of a chat.

Today is one of those big weather days in Cape Town - rain, sun, puddles and cauliflower clouds with silver linings. Perfect. I was so happy to see my friend Dave Southwood peddling his wares - some camera equipment and also his beautiful book about the market - he's been photographing it for the last ten years. The collector's edition is priced at ZAR 10 000, but the good news is that he's signed a standard book deal, so pretty soon all of us will be able to buy one.

Yay!

Woodstock Vintage and how the days rush by.

Over the years I've bought many a beautiful thing from a certain man at the Milnerton Market. He has that elusive thing which is bandied about a lot in the art department... Nazeem has an eye.

So imagine my delight when he told me that he
was opening a shop!

And here it is:

Woodstock Vintage, Amen's Building (it's avocado green.)
131 Sir Lowry Rd

I couldn't resist this Leopard plate. Kruger National Park special edition, by Wedgewood nogal.

 At around twenty-five past on the picture above, there's a small galloping warthog so jolly, just thinking about him makes me smile.

Back at construction, big things are happening. A huge round table is being built for King Arthur.  A prow is being carved for a barge - the head and slender neck of a mythical horse.

A large shipment of fake fur arrives tomorrow at dawn. Skinny cats gather on the foreshore.

The sun feels lower every day. Down the road there are drifts of crackling brown leaves. The pigs and the squirrels are out foraging.
Come evening, the sky is on fire.

Things that take us back.

These are lights!

Something in the world feels right when you wake up after dreaming of the water lilies in the Okavango Delta. On top of that, it's the first really, really hot day of Summer and there's left-over apple crumble for breakfast, with Greek yoghurt. My friend Madame Fi recently went to Botswana and Zambia and her pictures came to life in my dreams. Also read what she said upon return.

I've only been there in my dream, but I feel nostalgia for that place.

"A sentimental longing or wistful affection for the past, typically for a period or place with happy personal associations."

As I watered the garden this morning, an old Mercedes drove by and the sound of it threw me back to my childhood and thoughts of my father. A true gentleman he was. This Summer I will make his Pimms no.1 Cup and sip it with my feet dangling in the pool.

I bought six of these plates at the boot sale yesterday. They remind me of my Grandmother's kitchen. Then, in the afternoon, T. brought me a bunch of sweet peas from her mother's garden. One sniff of their wonderful scent and I was back in Ouma and Great Aunt Lil's garden in the Eastern Cape.

It's a glorious and searing thing, this squeezing of the heart.

❤

R30 for you darling.

The boot sale was on top form this morning. I broke the little deal I recently made with myself about not buying more stuff. (Well I did sell my leather couch the other day, with profit, so there's a hole to fill) Anyway, the sweet gentleman on the far corner had this pocket-sized Chinese cloche. Inside it is a variety of plant life, a pagoda on a craggy cork cliff and two cranes wading through the rushes.
 

 My companion today was the foxy Fraulein M, fresh back from a sojourn in Stuttgart. A while back I asked for her help in decoding the German website of the Hagemann Company. I've been looking for an old botanical chart for the longest time and she kindly brought one back for me. Hagemann continues to make these charts in the 1950's way, printed on thick canvas, with wooden supports, top and bottom. I chose chart #36, the Drosera Rotundifolia or Flowering Sundew, including it's dinner of a fly. I can't stop looking at it.
 

 

 After a lovely lunch facing Lion's Head with flocks of swooping birds in the sky, I came home to find that the butterflies were back on the honey bushes. Hundreds of them.
 

 (Butterfly: ORIGIN Old English , from butter + fly 2 ; perhaps from the cream or yellow color of common species, or from an old belief that the insects stole butter.)

He made me smile

I saw a wonderful thing as I was driving back from the market today. A smallish Harley slowly cruised by me as the light turned green. The guy on it was wearing brown leathers and riding shotgun was a very happy Alsatian hound. The dog was stretched out in front of him on the seat, tongue lolling. There was a yellow vuvusela strapped upright on the back, flying an orange Holland scarf. My friend, you are the coolest dude in town.

I came home to find a flock of guinea fowl on the lawn.
 

Green Glass & Flags

 The boot sale has been miserable lately, but I did find another green wine goblet. In the past I have always been on the look-out for red glass, but lately the green has had more appeal. My mom bought the place mat in Swaziland when I was a baby. I'm lucky enough to have three. I rather like the Tretchikoff boobies in the background.  

 

 Patriotism is even extending to fruit juice these days.
 

 In my mind the colours of South African sport have always been green and yellow. It's an imprint from my childhood. I'm not a sport-nut nor have I ever thought of myself as patriotic - I'm one of those people who only gets the feeling when I'm far, f-a-r away from home. And then only after quite some time has passed.
BUT.
The World Cup has made people do strange things - I go down to the Gardens Centre for some shopping and all the cars have small flags fluttering from their windows. Their mirrors have funny little flag socks pulled over them. The other day I walked past a small navy blue Renault and in the back window, on the dash, was a South African flag, neatly laid out and folded in at the edges. I got a lump in my throat.
 

 

 Some people are obviously batting for more than one team.

Things were slow

 I've been doing the rounds, but haven't been inspired to buy. Some autumn ennui and a heavy heart. But Ernie had this little hand today - beautiful celadon enamel over cast iron. I plan to use it as a salt dish.

Slim Pickings At The Boot Sale Lately

 Found this little wrought iron table / plant stand yesterday. I have a number of these in different sizes and shapes - they come in very handy when dressing sets like the one below. A greens-person brought all of the plants, but I had to supply pots, stands and furniture.
 

These Boots Are Made For Walkin' & Other Lessons In Love

 I'm not the record shopper in the family, but I couldn't resist this beaut. Pressed in Johannesburg, 1966. In very good nick. And only fifteen bucks! From the back of the sleeve: "How should I sing this?"

"Like a 16 year old girl who's been dating a 40 year old man, but it's all over now." A mouth made for lollipops or kisses, stingers or melting smiles. Produced by my all-time favourite cowboy - Lee Hazlewood.

Here There Be Monsters

  The boot sale was lovely this morning - sea breezy with big puddles of water reflecting scudding clouds. Had my usual long natter with Ernie on the way out. He didn't trade last week, but walked past as I was discussing The Curtain with my friend. So he says to me: "Lordy! You didn't buy that thing, did you? HIDEOUS!"
Then we had a giggle about some of the more eccentric antique dealers in town - one of them being Hans Niehaus in Claremont. I often stop by to pet his three-legged cat who acts like a lovelorn teen. The shop is full of beautiful things, nothing has a marked price, everything is very dusty.
We paid a visit to Dr Lin yesterday - this is mostly the result of my poor darling carrying a 15kg camera on his shoulders for days on end. The weight of a child, but not yielding in any way.  Neither of us have been near the needles before, so I asked if I could observe. Thinner than a human hair, twenty-two needles were inserted - some of them going in a good two inches. I found myself standing with my hand clasped over my mouth (so as not to scream?). I made copious notes - a lot more to write about sometime soon.
I received an e-mail from Europe the other day, asking why I don't have links to all of the people and places I talk about. Well, this is the simple answer: I'm not being secretive - these people just don't have websites or in some cases, computers. Some of them don't even have cellphones or know how to send a text message. Remember - we are in deepest, darkest Africa, where wild animals roam the streets by night. Please don't be discouraged from visiting, though - most of our huts are on stilts.

Not A Skirt

 Nazeem had some fantastic fabrics yesterday at the boot sale. I was down on my knees, admiring this 70's curtain, when a friend walked by. "Horrendous!" she said. And we agreed how wonderful that was about the world. It reminds me of my parents' mod bedroom when I was a tot. It reminds her of the worst decade of her life - being a teenager. Anyway, I brought it home and not sure what I'll do with it. Maybe some cushion covers.

Hypochondriacs must love Google

I've had varying degrees of flu-like symptoms for the last week and for a laugh did a search on Google. So I went to the boot sale nursing my West Nile Fever ( fortunately not contagious ) and holding on to my flapping trench coat and scarf. It's one of those big weather Cape Town days - patches of brilliant blue sky, silvery dark cauliflower clouds and sudden showers of big plopping drops of rain. The few traders who turned up were mostly battening down the hatches from their cars, all misty-windowed with the breath of people and dogs. There was a happy looking farmer with mounds of beautiful Muscat grapes, dusky and slightly blushing. Found I was not in the mood for the book shop and now I am home looking forward to an afternoon on the couch.

Finished the Emmeline apron yesterday:
 

 I ordered the pattern from America. The envelope was post-marked Lincoln. My idea of where places are in the states is fuzzy at best. I need to go there one day.

Mary Quant No Less

 That Ernie. Obviously he's never going to tell me where he gets his stuff. He talks about getting calls to go and look at things, regular suppliers... His is one of the smallest stalls at the boot sale, but he always has such lovely things. He keeps items aside in his car for special clients. Today it was an exquisite old embroidered kimono for "that Czech girl who collects embroidery". Amongst the treasures on his table today: a blue Bristol glass fruit bowl, a small oxblood glazed ceramic dish.

A few stalls down, I found this little scrap of a doll. Back in the 60's and 70's, my grandmother used to buy little plastic dolls like these, make teensy clothes for them and sell them at the church bazaar.
 

Seventies Tea Towels I Like

 R 5.00 each at the boot sale.

They make my other cutlery look dinky

Ernie had these today. The table knives measure 2cm across the handle and 2.5cm across the blade. They feel fantastic in the hand. I want to eat grand dinners with these! German stainless steel, emblazoned with a bear inside a pentagon. Krupp Berndorf. 1920's-1930's

The Curtain Skirt

 

 I bought a seventies linen curtain from Nazeem last winter. When I told him on saturday that I had cut it up to make a skirt, he looked completely aghast. He told me about a lady who had cut up one of his antique french linen sheets to make a dress with doilies for a bodice. I'm really happy with the skirt though, and there's enough left for a table cloth.

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.

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.