Cropredy for the very first time....

Smitonius:

Recovered from the operation, I set off with partner to a village called Cropredy which becomes the site of a music festival once a year. We had never been before, but joined up with sister, her husband (both of whom had been before) and another Cropredy virgin: 2 year old nephew!

We set up camp in field 4 (there were something like 7 or 11 fields in total): with one tent, one sheltered gazebo and a campervan (2 year old nephew and expert in all matters vehicular: 'this is not a campervan, it is a van. That one - pointing out a larger one - is a campervan'). Whilst he amused himself with a fine collection of toys with wheels

We listened to the music. There was something for everyone, from punk to festival sunshine dancing with Dreadzone as well as folk and rock, but our favourites were: '4 square', 'John Jorgenson', and 'Megan and Joe Henwood', (her music can be heard on her Myspace page).

The concert field was dotted with a fine collection of flags and kites blowing in the wind:

The sun shone (mostly), and - whilst being responsible adults - we nevertheless kicked off our shoes, enjoyed the atmosphere, the food, and the odd glass of wine:

I think we might just have to do it all over again next year.

Red Bicycles and Window Boxes

Sonata :

It's not all beer and skittles here . It's "tidy time " Chez Sonata because I go back to work next week but yesterday I did go to Antwerp for the day .... over nine hours in trains to have seven hours there , an indication of how much I love the city .

It's a perfect size to wander in , full of Art Nouveau loveliness and slightly shabby round the edges . Bourgeois grannies and penniless art students , North Africans , nuns and optimists , gourmets and gourmands .

And full of statues , including this one in the courtyard of a health center

or this , to interest people in a restoration course

or this , in the cafe of the Art Gallery , to chastise those of us who've just had a large slice of quiche and a cup of coffee , served with a sticky little biscuit .

Full of courtyards

junk shops

window boxes

and bicycles

and random fun .

and Pain Quotidien lemon tartlets are freely available .

What's nine hours in a train or two ?

A Very Nice Weekend

Sonata :

Another summer weekend .Youngest daughter tottered back from Amsterdam , carrying twelve books on the Indian Film industry ... a bit of thesis research , some sourdough bread and Lavender fuet ( a "foodie "Spanish sausage ) . I provided the olives and everyone munched and smiled .

Some studying was done , buttons were sorted and little draw-string bags were sewn , a double bass thunked in another room , a chicken was roasted and separate potatoes boiled for a man who finds roast potatoes "splintery " . A birthday bracelet from big sister was gloated over by recipient , who was wearing her grandmother's dressing gown and a pair of leggings she's had since she was eleven . Watermelon , cherry tomatoes and Melton Mowbray Hunt cake were nibbled on in turn .The sun shone on a neighbour's stained glass . Rubbish television was watched .

And now it's Monday . One more week's holiday for me . A day out beckons . Daughters are all accounted for ....oldest two , living in England , are off with their families to a music festival ( grandson in Sergeant Pepper jacket , made by his mother . This might work if he can be persuaded that it is an essential piece of equipment for Emergency workers or postmen ) . The youngest , not now wearing the leggings , is dazzling her bosses with her efficiency and charm and spending most evenings writing a few more words on India post-Independence .

Touch wood . All's right with our world .

Art Nouveau Embroidery Patterns

Smitonius:

Being off sick does have its advantages, not only do I have time to be creative and make some more jewellery: four bracelets recycling marquesite dasies from a broken piece of vintage jewellery, one for my wrist and one for my sister, and two up on Etsy (I have been neglecting my listings of late, but then it is only a hobby).


I am also taking the opportunity to sort through my collection of ephemera gathered over the years at flea markets and so on. I have this folder full of Art Nouveau embroidery transfers (well, if we could call them that, as the technology of the time meant that ladies traced the images rather than ironed them onto the fabric!). These have no publication date, but it appears that the publication 'El Consultor de los Bordados' (The Counselor - or consultant - of embroideries) was in print between 1905 and 1937 (which is interesting, as the Spanish Civil War broke out on 18th July 1936, so they kept going at least a few months into the war). This means that the copies I have date from 1920 to 1923.

Some of the designs are based on the alphabet, and there are many examples of stylised initials, and popular names at the time like 'Dolores' and 'Amalia' and 'Adela':


A handsome prince to pick out on a daring young woman's pillow? I imagine that the technique partly uses drawn thread work to create the silhouette.


Then there are exotic inspired images, from Egyptian motifs to Far Eastern ones like this geisha:


And some lanterns (wouldn't they look good on a table cloth or napkins?):


And, of course, there are plenty of animals, like this literate and informed frog,


To this simple elefant:

And floral motifs abound:

I wish I could say they inspire me to pull out needle and thread but my primary education was such that afternoons of my childhood were spent sewing under the tutelage of The Sisters of Charity - and whilst I am enjoying this cultural return to the arts and crafts of domesticity, embroidery would be going too far for me! Actually, I must confess, I have just freaked myself out and checked to see if my old school had a web page, and - eeeeek - two of the sisters are still teaching there.... oh dear, I must go and lie on the sofa to recover from the shock!

High Summer

Sonata:

Not that it's blazingly hot or anything ... in fact it's rained more often than not lately ..... still , it's definitely August . The streets are empty as those that can , get away to sunbathe and shake their heads at strange foreign ways . But , having holidayed earlier , I'm at home and pottering.

I'm tidying again and discovering forgotten summery treasures like these sample cards for French ribbon , for some reason buried in a box of knitting patterns

And trying to rescue the coffee table which , after forty or so years of service , looks ready to turn up its toes , while listening to silly audio books like "Five Red Herrings "by Dorothy L. Sayers or "Dr Finlay , Further Adventures of a Black Bag " ( we who purchase our audio books in car boot sales take what we can get ) . And doing as little cooking as possible while eating what used to be called An Ample Sufficiency :

This is just a warm salad of grilled chicken breast , marinaded in Ras Al Hanouf , olive oil and lemon juice , over rocket and new potatoes . Simple and good ....... though not photogenic !

And talking about food , grandson , until recently omniverous , will now only eat fish fingers . His desperate mother , fearing scurvy , has taken to making smoothies of increasing diversity . He took a sip of one of the latest and put it down , " I don't like cold soup " . She feels that maybe the sesame seeds and cucumber with apple , carrot and yoghurt version had maybe an ingredient too many.

And finally , because I now seem to have millions of buttons , I've listed a few sets on Etsy . There'll be more over the next few days .

Recovering and resting...

Smitonius:

Finally, after waiting a few months, I had my 'Laparoscopic Choleocistemy' (gallbladder removed, in non-medical speak). It went fine, no more unpleasant than any of these things are and the hospital was briskly efficient (despite evidently being thrown into chaos by taking in extra swine flu patients) and, thankfully, chucked me out at 8 pm. My 'responsible adult' (partner) took a very dozy person home and I have been on sofa ever since. I am planning to brave my first walk out tomorrow! I can now stand up straight, and as long as I don't sneeze or laugh or bump into anything or anyone nothing hurts undully.

I am now taking orders to rest (have sick leave for three weeks), and am reading lots of books and dozing. However, without the support of my 'responsible adult' (I had to declare I had one on the medical forms, though my partner said that the answer to that question was surely 'no') it would all be a lot harder. In fact, my 'responsible adult' has been following this armchair preserve maker's commands, whilst we try to save as much produce from the overabundant plum tree this summer.

So far: chutneys and jams. One stunning recipe was found online: Mirabelle with silver edged lavender

So, I am overdue the post on French markets! Imagine, if you will, entire villages in Nord-pas-de-Calais with people setting out their stuff: from desirable garden produce like peas in their pods to onions as large as a curled up cat; to lots of kitsch like embroidered pictures of Pierrot or clowns holding on to lamp posts, or winsome kittens; and last year's most unwanted present, coffee makers... there were a zillion families trying to get rid of their tassimos and nespressos and whatnot. Is French tat any more chic tan English tat? Well, yes, it often is...

I will share purchases made next blog entry!

The Music Room

Sonata :

My husband plays the double bass , electric guitar and the keyboard . When I saw this chap standing in a tiny , moored rowing boat in Amsterdam a couple of days ago , I was overcome with admiration for his partner , who seems to have solved the whole music/practice room problem . Why didn't I think of this ?

Meanwhile , if you're queueing for the Ann Frank house this summer , this is the man you can thank for "La Vie En Rose ".