This and that

I haven't been to Chesterfield flea market for over a month, so a free Thursday meant a trip was definitely in order.

I needed a scarf and gloves, it was perishing.

 

Here's the newly refurbished market hall, and the famous twisted church spire.

And there's Joanne, trying on a 1970s tank top.

She not only bought it, she kept it on as an extra layer; I told you it was cold.

Brass monkeys, or silver boobs. Take your pick.

That's the town pump, made of cast iron in the early-mid 19th Century, and Grade II listed.

And behind it, in her usual spot, is our friend Debs (wearing the red coat and bag) with her stall of delights. She's been making mittens again; Jo and I attempted to make some last year, which ended in humiliating but hilarious failure.

Joseph wasn't happy about the Christmas picture on his take-out coffee; it's too early for that. 

Speaking of Christmas - mark my footsteps, good my page, tread thou in them boldly. 

Real furs...

Soviet posters...

a fabulous, if rusty, fan...

and a jumble of sugar tongs looking like a game of jackstraws.

Steps to heaven...

Red Riding Hood's cape...

electric homemaking...

and its potentially disastrous results.

A typically eccentric blend of merchandise - how I love this market!

I took my jacket off to show you my frock, there's selfless for you.

1970s Dagmar Made in New Zealand maxi dress - gift from Helga
Velvet jacket and beret - charity shopped
Ankle boots - Ebay


Oh cheer up, love...

 Funniest sighting of the day?

 Genius.

When it gets even colder, I think I might wear one of my wigs as well as a hat to keep my head warm.

Why have I never thought of that before?

xxx

Guess who's living here with the great undead?

Long-time readers of this blog will know of my great affection for Sheffield's General Cemetery; it has already featured in posts here and here.

In the spirit of loving where I live, I returned today for a wander in the autumn sunshine.

At the risk of sounding antisocial, I really enjoy time alone, and I especially like spending it here. 

 

I passed Sharrow Mills, where snuff manufacturers Wilsons and Co have been in operation since the mid-18th century and continue as a family-run business today.

Heading down Frog Walk...

along the side of the Porter Brook...

to the gatehouse of the cemetery.

Wandering here is a tranquil experience; it's hard to believe you are in a busy suburb of a big city.

There are catacombs...

graves leaning against trees for support or genuflecting in the undergrowth...

fine romantic monuments in the Greek style (this one is to William Parker, a cutlery exporter)...

and an Egyptian-style Non-Conformist Chapel, which is currently undergoing renovation.

 This is how it looked back in 1836 (from the cemetery website here).

1960s Kenrose dress - flea market

1980s jacket - vintage shop

Ankle boots - Ebay

Bangles - charity shopped

Carpet bag - gift

There are favourite ladies...

and graves telling such sad stories;

brothers Albert and Ebenezer died 10 years apart...

three of John and Sarah Andrew's daughters died in five years, all under a year old...

while William Wilson lost both his wife Sarah (who probably died in childbirth), and 3 months later, his baby son.

I wonder whether he was part of the Wilson family who ran the snuff factory?

 The derelict church has scaffolding and protective netting in place. I doubt it is being repaired, I think it's more likely to be a precaution against masonry falling on passing dog walkers.

 I saw more squirrels than people this morning...

which was fine by me.

Without the slightest inclination towards any faith at all, I find this place endlessly fascinating.

It's good to find a place that soothes the soul. 

xxx

Hit the north

Never mind mists and mellow fruitfulness, autumn brings half term; season of lie-ins, and a trip to the north east.

And velvet maxis, some small compensation for the nights drawing in.

Here's Uncle Gary (the old ham) laden with luggage and my children, heading for Newcastle last Saturday.

By the next day, Nina ended up in A&E (for antibiotics - yet another skin infection) and Owen had managed to fall in the lake in Leazes Park.

 

But look - all is well, despite the Biggest Bandage in the World, and a dousing.

And breathing in the sea air at Tynemouth Long Sands is always therapeutic.

The Grand Hotel, built in 1872 by the Duke of Northumberland as a summer residence. 

Famous guests include Laurel and Hardy, who stayed here when they were playing at the Theatre Royal in Newcastle. 

Stan Laurel spent some of his youth in the local area and attended school in Tynemouth.

The ruins of Tynemouth Castle and Priory. 

The decorative Victorian ironwork at the metro station has been refurbished, and looks wonderful.

How funny that my girls look more like my sister than me.  

The kids love spending time with Sabena and Gary.

And I am quite happy to admit that I appreciate having a couple of days without them!

 It's nearly time for Hat Attack over at Judith's, and I am ready and waiting.

1970s Dereta velvet maxi skirt and ankle boots - Ebay

1970s sheer blouse, bangles, necklace and hat - charity shopped

1950s tapestry bag - vintage shop in Birmingham

Belt - retail (sale)

 

Tomorrow, we'll be avoiding the trick or treaters as usual by going out, because we're arsey like that.

See you all soon!

xxxx