Agnes Spencer Is Home

I know now, she should always have been here.

She's been patiently waiting, in the very back closet of my thoughts.....not rushing me, not worrying about the when's and the how's....just sitting, contentedly, for she knew one day, life would allow me some time to bring her home.

Her name is Agnes Spencer. Her namesake is a very sweet old lady that my path brought me to once upon a time. Agnes and I were friends from the beginning. She likes her tea the same as me.....strong and with one small sugar. She will leave every biscuit in the box for a ginger nut. Oh she's loves a ginger nut. And her smile brings a glow right to the very middle of me, for it is the brightest, most genuine, most loving smile I have ever seen, that lights the whole of her, and couldn't fail to warm even the coldest soul.

I don't get to see my friend the sweet old lady anymore, but I love having my Agnes Spencer here. She simply likes to be. Our family flies in and out of the door through all seasons, lugging drum cases and guitars out, dragging forgotten and unloved treasure home to be nurtured, children rush out with drama scripts and cinema tickets, cats climb in and out of windows, Chestnut tree leaves drift in during the Autumn.....and Agnes simply stands. She's happy to stand, as her namesakes legs tired out long ago. Agnes Spencer keeps her watchful eye on The Moo while we are away, and I'm sure she nods a knowing nod of agreement when I'm giving one of my Mother speeches, because she knows that Mum's know best. I have a little grumble to Agnes Spencer when I find a forgotten school newsletter in a blazer pocket.....I chunter a little moan about finding 7 half empty glasses of water in Monkey Socks' room, but Agnes Spencer and I both know that these little grumbles are the things I will miss when my children have flown the nest. Agnes is 93 years old, there's not much she doesn't know.

Having Agnes Spencer in my home is very good for me, and for her I believe. She makes me just stop. And take a minute. And I feel grateful for my legs, and my family, and for ginger nuts. I think Agnes is very happy to have some company. She enjoys the hustle and chaos, and the laughter and tears, because she spent such a long time alone.

I was worried that once completed, I wouldn't know the name of this little character, that formed in my hands, quite unplanned. But of course, when I stopped....and took a minute....I knew it had been Agnes all along.

Tea Cups A Glow

I just wanted to share a little make with you, before my dental appointment (to take my mind off the dread)....

I found a lovely little 'how to' the the Vintage Home book by Sarah Moore.

It was really easy to do. I bought some 1.2mm garden wire and a copper florists ring, and made a little cradle for each tea cup by twisting 2 lengths of 60cm wire at each side of the base, and then again at the rim of the cup before attaching them to the ring. I love it. The china is thin and lights up with a tea light inside.

Patch For The Heart

There's been a lot if busy busyness in the last week. Ol' England has been digging out thick woolly socks and 'seen better days' slippers to cope with the Autumn chill that has descended, and the rains came. My hearth is crying out for the glow of coals on the fire, but the chimney sweep is super busy, and can't make it our way for a month! I thought I'd chance it, but the rain has encouraged a couple of little soot falls, which in the past has led to a black avalanche which saw my entire family, The Moo included, with black faces and utter shock, when we were covered in soot quite unexpectedly whilst tucking into fish and chips one Friday tea time last year. So I've closed up the chimney, and cranked up the antique overworked boiler....

Last Saturday brought a trip to Peterborough Fair. I ended up with a nightshift to do as well, but it left plenty of time for a saunter and a rummage, and a marvellous day with my marvellously wonderful friend S. I spied this incredible chair which called my name, but I didn't enquire after its price tag, as I positively cannot fit one more chair in my overstuffed house. Compulsively chair buying has led to the demise of two Lloyd Loom beauties which got left outside and didn't survive.

I did bring home these Le Creuset pans, which were a belated 'Welcome To Your 30's' gift to myself! I've hankered after a bit of Volcanic orange for an age. These weren't the easiest thing to cart back to the car, I can tell you!

This little trio came home with me too. At £1 a pop, I wish I'd bought the whole blooming farmyard, but maybe they were destined for different homes. The hen keeps falling over......I'm going to start locking the drinks cabinet.

This beautiful £4 curtain is most perfect for the kitchen door. I love love love it! A lining is definitely needed first, our nest is positively freezing from about now until April. The combatting of drafts is an ongoing battle I'm not sure we'll ever win....and our second floor bedroom still collects a sparkly layer of ice crystals on the inside come mid winter mornings.

I picked up a giant remnant for a couple of pound too, which I thought was beautifully ugly.

And this is simply the worlds absolute best basket I'm sure! I love it's collapsibleness, and the genius mechanics. 

These two crazy gals popped back for tea, and got on like a house on fire. They've been nattering face cream, hair treatments and possible husbands non stop since their visit. They seem to have settled and look set to stay.

It was a great day to be out in the sunshine with a sunny like minded friend....pootling and rummaging through objects of another era. Do you think there were two things there, perhaps at opposite ends of the field, that had once shared a time together in the same place? Maybe a fire poker and a mixing bowl that had once resided in a farmhouse in the 40's? All the things and stuff that have bore witness to a million different lives and stories, and had found themselves once again, looking for a home. They soak up the history and the experiences and the energy of the past, like no Ikea mug can. And that's why I love them. There's a beauty and a sadness in each. 

My tiny house exudes a past, rich and secret, and I can only feel the echoes of all that has been. I live with the draughts, because there can be no history without the scars. There can be no roaring fire without the dust and the dirt and the soot avalanches. Just as there can be no me without the heartbreaks and the wounds. 

One of my favourite little nooks of our house is a little cupboard, that is just deep enough for shoes and coats. It is housed by two little old pine doors, which shrunk in the paint stripping process, and no longer close to. 

It's a bit damp, and seems to be a popular hang out for creatures of the eight legged variety. 

I set about a little revamp yesterday....and gathered together a collection of wallpaper I've been hoarding. I couldn't bear to use the vintage paper I had, I'm saving that for our bedroom, but the pile of new was calling me.  

I got out the PVA glue. The girls watched back to back soaps on the sofa after a terribly hard week at school, and they moaned about the whiff of glue.

                  I started to stick.....

And after a couple of gluey hours, I stood back and thought I'd done rather a marvellous job!!

I did suggest doing away with the shoes and leaving the doors off, as it seems a massive shame to hide this patchwork away, but alas, a tiny house needs its storage, and unless we take a vow of barefoot through all seasons, we will have to keep the shoe cupboard. I've started on my plans of wallpaper stock replenishing, and fear I may patch the whole blooming house!!

Hope you've had a wonderful weekend!! Xx

Couldn't Sleep For The Whirring Of Inspirational Cogs

'Tis the season to be nesting....tra la la la la, la la la laaa

Ooo there's so many many things I want to be playing about with at the moment. I have ideas and thinkings and plannings and not enough hours in the after work day. Man and I are working flat out at the minute, due to some massive understaffing issues. We've had 3 whole weekends together this year, and so time is precious. We try to get out of the house when we find we are both not working at the same time, but the window of opportunity is often so small, that we don't get far. Now I'm not complaining, don't get me wrong. We are very lucky to be working, and overtime is a luxury that we reap benefits from....so we soldier on!

On Friday, man finished a nightshift, and I wasn't working until the afternoon, so we packed the babies off to school, and had a little walk into town. Man is just as eager as me to have a good charity shop rummage. I gotta love him for that. So rummage we did.

I had planned a revamp for this little madam, but actually, now she's home, I think I like her....just as she is.

We stopped by the local primary school to support the Macmillan coffee morning a friend if mine had organised....and bumped into one of my book club ladies, and had a great talk over tea and cake.....

And on the retreat home, we popped into the Vintage Shop we are lucky enough to have on a doorstep, owned by a fabulous lady called Carole, who oozes the passion she has for the bygone.

She had some lovely remnants.....

Perfect to have on hand following my sewing machine lessons!

I'm still on 'straight line' practise.....

And we could absolutely not leave this little pair behind, although the debate rages on as to where they be hung. I'm not a driller, after a terrible mishap with a wall and a candle sconce some moons ago, so I fear man will win the battle as he has the drilling upper hand. We'll see.

What a beautiful teal colour. I love it.

I've also gone into battle with my toilet roll basket!

Before

During

After

Last night, I was pretty exhausted after a double shift, and so relented up the wooden hill to my bed, when suddenly I was thinking about my rocking chair and how I suddenly and desperately needed to paint a little ditty on it. I could not for love nor money get off to sleep for what seemed like an age. I set straight to it after work and dinner and laundry this evening.

I printed out my ditty so I had something to copy. On some wood, I've been able to lay the paper over the wood, trace the words with a sharp pencil, to then remove the paper and find the letters indented in the wood, giving a template, but the gloss in the rocker was too old and hard, and so I went free hand.

This is how man found me on his return from work tonight. Doesn't everybody create in a onesie and a hat??

A coat of protective varnish is needed now, and she's good to go. She sits at the front of our house, for when I feel like a read or a cup of tea, or a watch the world go by moment. The girls asked what I'd do if I did indeed find that someone had taken up my offer to sit a while, and a stranger was rooted in my rocker one morning. I'd hope I'd put the kettle on, but I fear I might swear instead.