It's that tricky time of year, rather chilly one day, warm the next. Then it rains. Sometimes it's all three in one afternoon.
What to wear?
Littlest started guitar lessons this week. She nagged asked me about it all last year , and I finally succumbed.
We have borrowed a guitar, and if she sticks at it, we will buy her one of her own (secondhand, hopefully). I didn't think to ask the friend from whom we borrowed the instrument whether it had a case. It doesn't. So we carried it to school in my shopping bag.
I know - rock'n'roll.
(I have now sourced a case - also borrowed - because around here, we like to cobble things together in an ad hoc fashion.)
I am hoping hoping hoping Littlest takes to the guitar. I'd love for one of the kids to show some musical talent. And if she could be a rock star and keep me in finery and champagne in my dotage, that would be excellent.
Austin Reed silk dress, cardigan, red flower, most of the bangles and 1970s pendant - charity shopped
Sandals - retail
Cream bracelet - darling Tania
Black heart-shaped ring - Italian Widow Vix
Orange flower - cool Mrs Coconut
Red and gold, a good combination, I think.
Look, I've grown some chillies this year.
Yep, looking pretty smug about that.
In other news;
Sue was blown away by all your positive comments about her poem, and says thanks very much.
Her head has swollen to the size of a large pumpkin with all the compliments, she's going to be unbearable from now on....
She's writing a children's book at the moment, and she's given me a draft of what she has produced so far. I will be reading and critiquing it later, and trying to find something intelligent to say other than wow, it's bloody fantastic.
This week saw my annual Give Pants A Chance event.
I tried, but I looked shit.
I am braving the Wrath of Vix, and saying never again.
Till next time...
1970s peasant blouse and sandals - Ebay
1960-70s suede jerkin - luscious Luce
Linen trousers, 1960s vinyl/tapestry shopper, bangles and necklace - charity shopped
Sunglasses - retail (sale).
We used to have a sex shop in our neighbourhood.
As soon as the kids could read the word toys, questions were asked.
Can we go in that toy shop, Mummy?
It has now closed down, and an electronic cigarette shop has opened in its place, one of many springing up all over the place.
It seems we've had the sex, now we are having our post-coital e-fag.
Bits and bobs from charity shops and Chesterfield flea market (clockwise from top left);
1970s handmade maxi skirt
groovy 1970s tray
cottons
fishnet tights
1960s Meakin pottery (a quid for the lot from Joe's stall)
1960s fabric.
Can't quite remember what that little lot cost but it was well under a tenner.
Oh, and this.
A small 1960s canister, made by Damel (Spanish, I presume) featuring Don Quixote, accompanied by Sancho Panza while he tilts at windmills.
Who doesn't want their vintage plastic containers decorated with illustrations of 17th Century Spanish fictional characters? I know I do.
I could have washed it before taking the photos, but hey, a bit of vintage grime adds interest.
What else?
Stall holder Joe on Chesterfield market has taken to calling me Myrtle. No idea why.
My mate Jo says it's a euphemism for vagina, but I've never heard of that before. Mind you, there are loads; all those cutesy names because we don't seem to like to use proper words for down there.
Fou fou.
Flower.
Tuppence.
Front bum.
A vagina's a vagina in this house.
On that note - I'm off to cook dinner.
And no, it isn't Fuck Broth.
xxxxx
