Reasons to be cheerful

It's been a beautiful day today. It was a pleasure to walk to work this morning without a jacket.

 

 

1970s Debroyal maxi skirt - vintage fair

Cardigan, top, shoes, bangles and 1960s vinyl bag - charity shopped

Sunglasses - retail

I do love my charity shop days; today, I've rearranged the bric-a-brac display to my satisfaction, sorted and priced all manner of objects from vintage tea sets, glassware and kitchenalia to linens and clothes, and shaken my head over the sad state of some donations. 

 

I've chatted and laughed with customers, and put the world of charity shopping to rights with my fellow volunteers and our lovely manager.

Yes - a good day. 

Another good day was had by Claudia and I on Saturday.

I texted her while I was at the hairdresser's to ask her if she wanted to meet me in town afterwards.

 

Claud: Why?

Me: Err... Cos I love you. And I might buy you something.

Claud: What time?

Cheeky bugger.

Two dresses from a charity shop and a pair of shoes for school later, and here we are in Mooch Vintage. It's Mama's turn! 

 

The shop has moved to larger premises since I took the gang there on our Bloggers Day in Sheffield last year. But proprietor Wayne remains as friendly as ever; he didn't object to me taking photos and taking ages to select a few frocks to try on, and talked strong colours and prints with me and the virtues of Converse with Claudia.

 

 

Colour and sparkle...

 

taxidermy, some with accessories...

Japanese beauties...

and the Perfect Bag, but it wasn't for sale. Which was probably just as well, since I might have been tempted to bankrupt myself in order to buy it, I loved it so much.

 

 

What I did purchase from Mooch was the 1970s white print dress on the right; the blue/green pleated 1970s beauty on the left was a half-price bargain from Freshman's vintage boutique.

 2 dresses + 2 dresses = happy mum and daughter.

Freshly coloured hair makes me happy too.

I'm vaguely aware of how shallow that makes me sound, but honestly? It's true and I don't care who knows it!

I'm terribly late for Visible Monday but Patti is such a generous hostess, I'm sure she won't mind. I hate to miss it!

xxxx

Practically perfect

A busy week has come and gone.

I can tick off another solid week of Ebay sales, parents' evenings for two out of three kids, a night out with friends in the pub, and my yearly blood tests (the fasting kind - never does a cup of tea taste as good as the one I can finally enjoy after those bloods are safely in the vacutainers.)

Oh, and an interview to be a volunteer in a charity shop, but I'll tell you about that when I start. 

Looking blue, but not feeling it at all.

I was having a small tidy up around the house (a rare occurrence), and chuckling to myself at the state of my very disordered and not-at-all blogworthy home, in comparison with the oh-so-stylish and beautifully presented houses of many bloggers I know. 

I don't really have the art of display; my treasured objects are just slung on shelves, gathering dust as often as not, and the rest of the family don't even notice them.

But shall I show you a few of the bits and bobs around the place?

That's my old teddy bear giving you the side-eye. She (yes, she) is called Sally, she's about the same age as me, and she and the cat collection, the OBDs, and Mary Poppins and her giant bottle all jostle for space on the crammed bookshelves. 

Em gave me the tall and elegant blue cat on the right; my mate Jo gave me Mary Poppins, because she says Mary reminds her of me. Practically perfect in every way, obviously. Or maybe it's because the Mary of  P. L. Travers' books is rather strict and waspish... 

(I think Mary keeps her rum punch in that bottle.)

This 1950s piggy bank has somehow ended up with me; I used it as a child, but it's older than me, it must have belonged to my eldest sister originally.

It has no opening underneath, so to retrieve your pennies, you either have to break it, or hold it upside down, insert a knife in the slit on the top and jiggle it about in the hopes that a coin or two will fall out. 

Does anyone else remember doing that as a kid?

Another childhood treasure - look, you can see I wrote my name on it (Curtis - no "e").

It was a gift from my aunt and uncle, and the wooden box and cubes have a very particular smell; just opening it up transports me back in time to the 1960s. Olfactory memories are the most powerful and evocative, I find.

I adored those illustrations as a child, and still do.

Beate, they make me think of you and your gorgeous home.

 

That's my Uncle Robin and Auntie Leni on the left, who gave me the Goldilocks picture cubes. Leni (Helen) was German, I wonder if that's why she was drawn to those pictures? My uncle called her Lenchen, she was very stylish. 

There's my Grandma and Grandad on the right, and my cousin Charles, middle sister Sabena, and me.

It was 1966, and we were at a cousin's wedding. 

 

Same year - me (aged 2), Sabena (6) and Belinda (11). Sab's flashing her boobs, and Belinda's unimpressed. And there's my dad lurking in the background. Families, eh...

Although I don't really think of myself as a collector (hmm, a wardrobe bursting with vintage dresses might tell a different story), perhaps this shelf of pomanders is starting to resemble a collection!

Fiona kindly gave me the one shaped like a birdcage after I admired it on her blog, and Claudia gave me the small pink one in the middle.

Jacket, t-shirt, sandals, belt, sunglasses and bangles - charity shopped

1970s Debroyal maxi skirt - vintage fair

Miracle pendant - car boot

This weekend will be a quiet one, I think, although we are out for tea tonight as a Friday treat.

And the sun is still shining, we're having a beautiful autumn, so like Baby Bear's porridge, chair and bed, everything feels just right!

Have a great weekend, folks.

Linking to Patti's Visible Monday gathering as usual. 

xxxx

Come on, come on, let's work together

 

Today's sunshine convinced me it was warm enough to wear a denim jacket to take the kids swimming and go for a coffee in our local Turkish cafe. 

 

 

 

 

 And with the addition of a woolly beret, scarf and gloves, it was! 

 

Jess agrees.

Charlie, on the other hand, was happy to lounge on the sofa. 

Tickle that tummy at your own risk.

I don't like to grumble...

(That's patently untrue, I like a moan and a rant as much as the next grumpy git.)

 So; 

 

Our little PTA group put on a fundraising cake sale last week, which obviously relied on donations. I made 2 big cakes and 2 batches of cookies, and helped set up and serve. The school hall was packed, and the four of us who were (wo)manning the stall were very, very busy. Yet still, some parents complained that they had had to wait a long time to be served (the queue was huge) and there wasn't much choice when they finally got to the front.

What can you do? I wanted to ask them if they had donated anything, and if they would be available to help out next time; I didn't, for fear of sounding irritated and confrontational...  I don't know whether to laugh or cry at the parents who say they can't help because I've got the kids with me. As though those of us who do help don't have any children. Or who say But I work; I am the only non-working member of our group, everyone else has a job.

 

What makes some people into volunteers, either of their time, produce, or goodwill, and others into takers-not-givers? It is a source of endless bewilderment to me that a really large primary school like ours (500+ kids) has such a small proportion of parents willing to take an active role.

Have we moved so far away from a sense of the collective, of shared endeavour and responsibility, that we view ourselves, our families, as self-supporting islands, with no need to contribute to something which benefits others? That makes me sad. I'm an old school socialist, can't help it, I believe in groups, in society, in fairness and sharing and helping. 

 

I am, apparently, a dinosaur.

Right; that's got that off my chest. 

Onwards.

My double-dating partner Connie asks in her latest post what our favourite things are at the moment; one of mine are the snakeshead fritillaries in my garden. And my lone little grape hyacinth, bravely popping its head above ground. And the daffodils pushing up through the ivy.

 

 

 

 

 

 Sunshine in winter is always good too, though it plays havoc with one's blog pics. 

 

 

Best to just lean back for a minute and enjoy it.

 

Denim jacket, suede waistcoat, bangles, beret and scarf - charity shopped

1970s peasant blouse - Ebay

1960-70s Debroyal maxi skirt - vintage fair

1980s boots - Second to None

Leather gloves - gift

 Jess - Sheffield Cats Shelter 

 

 

We've had a busy weekend; a house full of giddy 8 year old girls for a sleepover on Friday, and a wonderful meal out last night at our favourite Chinese restaurant to celebrate the Year of the Horse, and positive reports for Eldest at her parents evening, and SSK winning the class shield for his recent Learning Logs! It looks as though the time spent being more supportive over his homework is paying off; he is so much more motivated and proud of his work. And well done to his teacher for understanding that he needed some recognition for his efforts.

Hope everyone has had a good weekend!

xxxx

Debroyalty

Man, I'm tired!

I've just got home from a five hour induction session, following on from yesterday's first shift at work.

It's late, I need to go to bed, but my head's buzzing so I'm having a cup of tea and doing a blog post, in the hope that I will unwind!

Thanks so much to all of you who have asked how it went; it's fine really, if you don't mind not having much of a clue what you're doing...

But I find that I do mind.

I have been thinking about the discomfort I am experiencing, and I have come to the conclusion that I am just not used to feeling so incompetent.

I know how to perform my usual roles; I can run the house, shop and cook, I can parent (to a variable standard, admittedly), I know how to source and date vintage clothes, edit photos and list items on Ebay. I have been writing this blog for over two years, and been a volunteer in school for four. I can organise a jumble sale, and turn my hand to any of the fundraising tasks required in the PTA.

My previous work role was one I had had for many years, and I was a senior team member. I knew what I was doing.

And everything I currently do is well within my capabiltity and experience.

But not so working in a shop, especially one as big and as busy as Debenhams. There is so much I need to learn, and I am slightly worried that I will just be getting to grips with it before I have to leave. Just finding my way round the warren of staff offices and store rooms, never mind remembering the shop layout and the stock, will be a challenge.

But I am telling myself repeatedly that if all the other staff who work there can do it, then so can I.

And I can fold jumpers, many many jumpers (I did it for an hour and a half yesterday!)

In honour of my new employer, I am wearing my Debroyal dress.

I have a maxi skirt from the 1960-70s with a Debroyal label, but didn't make the connection with Debenhams until I found this dress, of a similar vintage.

I had no idea it was their brand.

Needless to say, I couldn't wear this to work.  We are not required to wear a uniform, but there seems to be an unwritten rule that sales assistants wear black, black and more black. This, of course, is a problem for me.

I wore my interview dress...

...but needed a cardigan for warmth and flat shoes for comfort. I really don't want to buy anything just for work, so I might try and sneak in some pattern and/or vintage once I'm sure I won't get in trouble for doing so...

Remove the brightly coloured accessories and these might be OK.

(These pics also demonstrate how badly I need a haircut!)

1960-70s Debroyal maxi dress (sadly shortened a little too much for me) - charity vintage sale
Tie-front cardigan - charity shopped
1980s boots - Second to None
1970s apple pendant - flea market

I read a blog post last week in which the writer said she had worn fuchsia in the past, but concluded that she felt happier toning down the bright colours, as she was worried about looking a bit menopausal.

I don't seem to have received that memo. I am indeed increasingly (peri) menopausal, but while I may have to tone down for work, I reserve the right to let loose with bright shades and beautiful bold prints on my own time.

So there's something else I can add to my list of competencies - the unashamed and contented wearing of strong colours and pattern.
That much, I can manage very well! 

 

xxxxxx