My purple patch or old bag blues .....

I have never been a graceful person and my mother told me, in the way that mothers do, that I was a clumsy child.  I wasn't, I just wanted to get things done quickly so I tended to have more accidents but I never broke a bone or hurt myself particularly.   Last week we had a fleeting stop in the Yorkshire Dales and went for a walk.  Half way around, while crossing a deep gill, I stumbled, then I slipped, then I fell and, when I came to a halt, my forehead was in contact with a large rounded boulder.  Shortly afterwards the proverbial egg came up and it was of a size to make an ostrich squeal during the laying process.  I'm not sure why I asked Northern Man whether he thought I'd get a black eye - he has no medical training whatsoever and  numerous qualifications in engineering are not much use when it comes to the prediction of bruising patterns - so I was probably just after reassurance.  He promised me that I would be okay but now I am sporting a black eye which would make a cage fighter wince.  I have to tell you that purple is not my colour and it will suit me far better once it has faded to a nice shade of green.

It did not prevent me from car booting, although my darkest sun glasses stayed firmly on (the very swollen) bridge of my nose.  This is what I found .....

A vintage painted magazine rack ...

Lovely little string box in the shape of a house and vintage glass Christmas decorations ....

A panel of crocheted flowers .....

A lovely embroidered picture and a silk embroidered picture ...

and last, but not least, the eponymous old bags.

The National Vintage Awards - your chance to vote ...

The following email was received from Vintage Bazaar HQ .....

The National Vintage Awards

The Vintage Bazaar is up for the award for 'Best Fair' in The National Vintage Awards and time is running out to vote! We are really grateful to those of you who have voted for us already but sadly we are lagging behind some of the very big event organisers and really need your help to show that big is not always better! We hope that you may be able to persuade your friends/family/milkman/blog followers etc etc to vote for us as well. If you have a moment could you share the link below on your FB/Twitter/Blog pages
Thank you so much for all your support

VB HQ x

http://thenationalvintageawards.co.uk/vote-here/

So get voting!

How to discipline your bitch and other doggy stories .....

It was with mixed feelings that I discovered at Shepton Flea in May that, even though I can now get my car insurance through Saga, my pulling days are not yet over.

I was minding the stall, knitting doves and smiling vaguely at passing possible customers, when I made the ill-considered error of making eye contact with a man who believed that 'rat-catcher chic' was an attractive look.  He obviously thought the ice had been broken and was standing in front of me faster than a bear after honey.  Because I am a well brought up girl, I had no alternative but to make conversation and we began to discuss the days purchases.  I asked him what he had found and he showed me a bamboo cane which he was carrying in his ruck sack.  I naively asked him what he intended to do with it.  He smiled archly at me and said 'Use it on willing ladies'.  Reader, for once, I was speechless .....

Now, you will see from the following pictures that there has been something of a theme to my buying over the last few weeks ...

Happy bank holiday - enjoy the sun while it lasts!

It's good to be car booting again .....

Yesterday was The Vintage Bazaar in Hartley Wintney. There were wonderful things on sale and it was a challenge to remember that I was there to sell and not to buy. The next one at this venue is 21st September so put this date in your diaries!

Next weekend, on 5th May, it's Shepton Flea Market which was a good excuse (as if one were needed) to go booting today .....

The most wonderful thing about it is that you never know what you're going to find .....

... and you never find the same thing twice .....

Here we have a potential St George and his dragons.  I am puzzled why anyone would go to such trouble to create this wonderful figure and then not give him a face.  An idea for an episode of Dr Who perhaps?

To Bee or not to Bee ...

Tuesday is the final of the BBC's Great British Sewing Bee.  I am already in my mourning weeds and hoping that sewing, like cooking, is about to become a minor national obsession.

I can forsee an epidemic of programmes dedicated to the needle and its art:  Come Tack With Me; Masterstitcher; The Great British Dressmaker.  Celebrity judges will appear and choose the contestants whom they want to go onto the live shows on the basis of blind top-stitching competitions.  There will be live auditions in front of a studio audience to find the sewer with the cross-stitch factor.  There will be books, dvds, magazines! 

On Saturday 27th April The Vintage Bazaar is once again in Hartley Wintney and I have been busy painting the unprepared items I found hibernating at the back of the garage.  But I also found time for some knitting and believe that I have created what the world has been waiting for - a knitted cherub!

I have to say that they are not completely anatomically correct, but they do have tummy buttons and bottoms ....

"You are old, Father William," the young man said, "And your hair has become very white; And yet you incessantly stand on your head – Do you think, at your age, it is right?

I have just renewed my car insurance - with Saga.  I have only one thing to say to that .....

"In my youth," Father William replied to his son,
"I feared it might injure the brain;
But, now that I'm perfectly sure I have none,
Why, I do it again and again."

"You are old," said the youth, "as I mentioned before,
And have grown most uncommonly fat;
Yet you turned a back-somersault in at the door --
Pray, what is the reason for that?"

"In my youth," said the sage, as he shook his grey locks,
"I kept all my limbs very supple
By the use of this ointment -- one shilling a box --
Allow me to sell you a couple?"

"You are old," said the youth, "and your jaws are too weak
For anything tougher than suet;
Yet you finished the goose, with the bones and the beak --
Pray, how did you manage to do it?"

"In my youth," said his father, "I took to the law,
And argued each case with my wife;
And the muscular strength, which it gave to my jaw,
Has lasted the rest of my life."

"You are old," said the youth, "one would hardly suppose
That your eye was as steady as ever;
Yet you balanced an eel on the end of your nose --
What made you so awfully clever?"

"I have answered three questions, and that is enough,"
Said his father. "Don't give yourself airs!
Do you think I can listen all day to such stuff?
Be off, or I'll kick you down stairs."

Lewis Carroll

Word Association Knitting .....

Last weekend my thought process went something along the lines of warmer weather - watery sun - green shoots - spring! - blossom ....

- March hares ....

I have been trying for a long time to knit a chicken.  I have knitted them from the tail forward, from the beak backwards, from the feet up, in one piece, in two pieces, with a gusset and without.  It has been something of an obsession and I am unable to decide why it has been so difficult to arrive at a version which pleases me. I haven't had the problem with any of the other birds I've knitted.  Here is the latest idea ( tail forwards, one piece, seperate legs!) with the Easter chicks from few years ago.

Speaking of obsessions, Northern Man's ipad addiction is becoming worse and has spread to include a mini ipad and an iphone.  These devices talk to each other and share information;  what is saved on one, is saved on all.  He thinks this is a wonder of modern technology but I think it's verging on Terminator territory.  I don't want my machines talking to each other;  imagine if the Yeti began to chat to the dishwasher, washing machine or dyson.  They'd share stories about my incompetence and slatternly habits, the way I cut corners, don't vacumn under the furniture or scrape the plates.  They'd begin to laugh about me behind my back, lose respect, refuse to carry out my instructions.  There's nothing worse than an uppity dishwasher ....