Ragged Roses

12 friends, two tents and ten candles ...

2009-07-10T16:45:00.016Z

Oh dear another whole week has gone by without a new post, any visits to your lovely blogs - I'm so sorry my bloggy friends. It's definitely tail chasing time of year isn't it? So many things to do at school, at home etc- here's hoping that things will calm down in a couple of weeks with the onset of the summer holidays - fingers crossed!
Anyway, back to the matter in hand - those of you who read the last post about Little Sister's birthday might be wondering what was spooky about the entry for "Tent" being under the entry for "ten" in my old French dictionary. Well if you remember reading about our visits here and Big Sister's Birthday, you will understand just why Little Sister said "no" to a birthday party and "yes" to a weekend camping.

It's funny isn't it no matter how much you fall in love with a place, there is always a doubt that the next visit might disappoint, or let you down in some way. We should have known that this would never happen here. Our magical spot was waiting for us, the sun was shining through the trees and our friends arrived laden with food, pressies and more food.

I can't tell you how special this place is. It's pure enchantment - a child's special dream, an adult's weekend fantasy.
We made ourselves at home, once more, in Mr Tumnuss' house,

noting the hot water bottles that had been left thoughtfully for our visit and praying that we wouldn't need them.

We decked the woods with bunting, our children ran off to explore and we took a deep breath. Breathing out the stresses of the week and breathing in the fresh, pure promise of the weekend. There is something about camping, about spending a length of time that makes you appreciate the course of a day, no distractions, just living and enjoying the moment.

No sooner had we settled in than Emma and her lovely family arrived for tea and cake (courtesy of Mrs Sew Recycled). It was lovely to see her two boys enjoying themselves in the woods, experiencing the joys of hanging from rope swings, paddling in the stream, wandering off alone (all very boy's own stuff). We played rounders, we ate, we laughed, we chatted and laughed some more.
An afternoon that seemed to last forever (in a good way Emma!) - one that you would like to bottle and keep by your bedside for those rainy days...

We made a fire although it was far too warm,

we ate our food in the dappled sunshine of early evening and the children drank their summer "cocktails" and devoured the homemade brownies that Little Sister had made the night before.

We took a twilight stroll into the woods, marveled at half finished camps,

stared at strange shapes and shadows and listened intently to the sounds of the evening.

We went to sleep accompanied by some singing campers who had formed another party beside us (but that's another story!).
And when we awoke, Little Sister was ten! Her birthday wish was to walk in the stream before breakfast. Not bad eh, bed to stream in a minute!

An afternoon of picnics, birthday cakes, rounders, three legged races (I have the bruises to prove it), swinging from trees and frisbee throwing.

Time went at its proper pace last weekend and we left our beloved spot late Sunday afternoon. The bunting removed, the crumbs swept away, the laughter silenced but the magic remained.

Ten is a magic number

2009-07-05T00:01:00.002Z

Happy Birthday Little Sister!
Wishing you a year full of sunlit days full of fun and laughter, dreams come true, friendship and love.
Ten years old already - how did that happen?
It seemed like only yesterday that you were running around with your long blonde hair in plaits like these.

Running around in circles on the beach and refusing to walk in a straight line.

Taking your doll for walks in her pram.
Twirling around in your tutu showing me your latest ballet moves.

I think I was ten when I was given my first French dictionary.

Look what was under the entry for "ten" -

That's a bit spooky isn't it? But as I said my darling, ten is a magic number ...

Summer in a glass

2009-06-25T13:58:00.019Z

Take one lovely fellow blogger (Emma), a bucket, a pair of secateurs and some sunshine. Add to this the now obligatory jam doughnuts and drinks that accompany our little jaunts (this is by no means compulsory but advisory).

(Emma and her bucket)

Set out on a summer's morning with purpose in your stride and laughter in your hearts.
Fill the said bucket with the whitest, sweetest elderflower heads available. At this point, speaking from experience, we would advise the wearing of long trousers to avoid the masses of nettles that seem to protect every single elderflower bush we stumbled upon and the carrying of a stick/set of ladders (which fit neatly into your bag) to compensate for your lack of height and the fact that all the best blooms are as high up as a mountain top!

Stop for a while to eat the aforementioned doughnut, sip the shop bought elderflower cordial you brought along knowing that tomorrow you'll be sipping your very own brew.

Stagger up the hillside and stop to admire the many butterflies and wild orchids (again, this is obligatory as it adds to the sweetness of your drink). Spend a lot of time wishing you could make headdresses from elderflowers, garlands and wedding bouquets and wanting to live in the 1930s...

Arrive home and put the kettle on. Take cup of tea out into the garden and give those elderflower heads a good shake, Remember to count each head to ensure you use the right amount of ingredients, in our case things got so complicated that we almost wished for a calculator but thankfully help was at hand when we reread this wonderful recipe here, , thank heavens for imperial measures, it was all getting very confusing when we were dealing in kilos of sugar.

Into a large old preserving pan (preferably your mother's - thank you Mother of Mrs Sew Recycled) add enough sugar to rot entire family's teeth and those of any guests who happen to call. Add water and bring to boil whilst stirring.
Just when you feel your arm's going to drop off from all that stirring add flower heads (then scoop them out again as you have forgotten to remove acres of woody stem), lovely lemons and gold dust (I mean citric acid - it seems that you might be able to get your hands on some of this just in time for next year's harvest as there is apparently a national shortage, failing that, for a nominal fee I will reveal my source (!!!).

Cover with a clean cloth and leave to steep for 24 hours. During this time you might feel it necessary to stand in various corners of the kitchen sniffing the air as we did trying to work out whether we could smell cat's pee, lemon or somewhere the scent of elderflower ...
Return home and anxiously await phone call from friend to tell you that, yes, there is a distinct whiff of elderflower in the air.
Next day on return to friend's house stop off at baker's to buy some cake (just to enhance the flavour of the cordial you understand, but seriously contemplate any further visit to local baker's in disguise once you realise just how often you pop in there).

Arrive at friend's house, Put kettle on, have tea, eat cake and chat.
Momentarily forget why you are there and chat some more. An hour or so later, remember the reason for visit. Take bottles, try desperately once more to remove dried up orange juice that are in them, friend will hopefully mention foolproof plan of bicarb, rice and boiling water to do the trick.
Slowly begin to strain the brew into bottles and avoid sticking to everything you come into contact with as the liquid is just SO SWEET AND STICKY. Halfway through, have minor panic that cordial may just taste of cat's pee and/or you have discovered some kind of magic elixir as the pan shows no sign of emptying. Rummage around kitchen emptying bottles as you go to use for cordial. Half an hour later wonder at the vat of cordial that's on the worktop and think perhaps there really was no need to double all the ingredients.

Wash hands, wash worktop, wash floor, wash skirt, wash everything that has come into contact with this sugary delight. Take a bottle of fizzy spring water that your friend has just had delivered, dilute cordial and pour into glass.

Take into garden, spend a lot of time sniffing and giggling and have your first sip - summer in a glass, I promise.
After a few glasses convince yourself it's fermented and that you are now just a tad worse for wear, remember that of course it hasn't and it's just all those bubbles.
Return to kitchen, view once again all those bottles and wonder just how much you can drink ...
Lightbulb moment when you remember that all you lovely bloggers are full of culinary ideas and decide to ask for help. If you know of any way of using elderflower cordial, please leave a comment. There will of course be a winner, a snifter of our elderflower sunshine, some summer goodies will be posted off to you and Emma and I will have fun tasting all your recipes - sounds like a good idea ...

"tis almost fairy time"

2009-06-20T11:12:00.005Z

"I know a bank where the wild thyme blows,
Where oxlips and the nodding violet grows,
Quite over-canopied with luscious woodbine,
With sweet musk-roses and with eglantine."
Midsummer's Night Dream

Ssssssh, if you listen very carefully you'll hear the sound of the fairies wings, they're on their way, I'm sure. Whilst our gardens might not be full of canopied bowers and sleeping fairy queens, we will still find them here this weekend at the bottom of our garden.

If you want to know what we'll be up to then take a peep at this and this and if those fairies are giving you the run around then take a look at this and this (the sweetest fairy balm for the heart).

Happy Midsummer
xxx

More giant leaps for mankind ...

2009-06-13T07:40:00.005Z

Late Friday night, three of us huddled on the sofas watching TV. Images appear on the telly of the first moon landing. Conversation follows about that famous day. Mr Roses turns to Big Sister and asks what was the name of the astronaut who first walked on the moon. To which I reply, having first consumed the compulsory couple of Friday night glasses of wine:
"Neil Armstrong-Jones" - Now I bet you hadn't realised up until now that a relative of the Earl of Snowdon was in charge of the lunar landing. Good to see my grey cells are still working ...
But wait it gets better ...
Big Sister then pops up with:
"That man who went with him was called Buzz Lightyear". (no doubt Mr Potato Head was in charge of NASA at the time).
Suddenly space travel becomes much more interesting ...
What's that saying? "Like Mother, like Daughter..."

Firsts

2009-06-05T08:25:00.009Z

This week I picked two little posies for my daughters' bedside tables. Each different, each marking a "first" of some kind.
Ever since Big Sister was a tiny toddler, back in our old house, we would eagerly await each year the first rose opening in the garden. That first summer she went to the wall at the back of the garden where the old rambling rose grew and Mr Roses picked her up in his arms and she lent forward to pick her rose, sink her nose into its sweet scent and toddle back into the kitchen clutching her treasure. Each year the tradition continues, for many years the roses came from that old rambling rose - these past few years it has come from different roses in our new home.

This particular one has the sweetest, headiest scent and takes me right back to those seemingly endless summer evenings of my childhood. Early evenings spent outside playing with friends, riding on our bikes, skipping and most importantly, making rose petal perfume in jam jars of water. It is a smell I associate with my childhood home, summer, sunshine and all things lovely.

So this rose, once it starts to fade will join the others that Big Sister has kept and pressed in her flower book. Each one marking another summer, another chapter in her life and mirroring , I think the beautiful young woman that she is becoming.

The second little bedside posy was picked for Little Sister to welcome her home from her own very grown up adventure. Her first residential trip without us Roses alongside! Our house was strangely quiet without the youngest rosebud in it and I waited with baited breath for her return. This was a big one for us all, our "baby" returned happier, more confident, extremely tired and a little more grown up. The riot of colour that sat on her bedside table will I think be pressed too, to mark a very big and important chapter in our lives.

I'm not sure if our "babies" ever stop being our "babies" or our "first born" ever stop being our "first born". Of course the years go past and the flowers get picked and pressed and Big Sister now towers above me and the memories fill the once empty flower book but I know that certain things like that big beaming smile when Big Sister picked her first rose, or the triumphant smile Little Sister gave me when I collected her after her trip are as precious as the flowers that mark them.

Have a lovely weekend
x

Meet the guests ...

2009-06-01T11:55:00.012Z

We had some guests to stay this weekend. They arrived on Friday, thankfully arriving in time for the end of the half term and have been with us ever since, and, I hasten to add, have not, nor will ever outstay their welcome. You couldn't wish for a more delightful pair of guests, I'm only hoping that Mr Blue Skies and Mrs Sunshine (a marriage truly made in heaven) prolong their visit for as long as they can.

Somewhere in that expanse of blue is a vapour trail. When I was younger I would spend ages trying to work out where planes were heading, imagining their destinations. I must admit on grey wet days when I see those trails up above in the sky I wouldn't mind being up there ... but on weekends like this I've got to say that the view down here is not bad at all!

We finally got to the beach on Friday after days of rain and cold. Egg sandwiches, oreos, favourite reading books and suntan lotion packed in a jiffy and the car on autopilot down to the seafront. A lazy afternoon that saw us stretching and basking in the sunshine, smiling as we relaxed and listened to the waves lapping against the shore and dipped our feet into the briny blue.

That day saw the emergence of our cats into the garden. The Hinge and Bracket of the feline world had decided that is was finally warm enough to venture outside.

With temperatures exceeding those under the piles of eiderdowns they have been sleeping with these past few months they lived dangerously and sauntered into the garden. It wasn't too long before they needed shelter, carefully parting the poppies and nigella and trampling them into a leafy bed.

Just as well the neighbour's cat is doing the same on the opposite side of our garden, for once I have symmetry and order of some kind ...

In shady corners under the fig tree the foxgloves have come to greet our guests. Appearing almost overnight, their flowery stems stand tall and majestic.

We decided on Saturday to head out for the great open spaces. Thankfully Mr & Mrs Blue skies decided to join us. We walked over the Downs with friends, lifting our heads to the sky and lazing in the grass. A good few hours later we rejoined civilization in desperate need of one of these

and sat in the shady park to cool down.

With no sign of getting fidgety the sun shone again and the sky was at its bluest on Sunday. A special day, the first day of the year when we were able to eat breakfast, lunch and supper outdoors. A return to summer food and summer habits. Barbecues, salads, garlic, tomato, homemade pesto, garlic, basil, more garlic!!!!!

A spot of rockpooling on the beach in the morning where I have to say that the sun excelled herself and forced us into a hasty retreat home. An afternoon having water fights and reading the papers in the garden.

I hope you've had similar tales this weekend, I'm doing my best to make the sun and sky feel very welcome round here as I do so miss them when they've gone.

Surrey with a fringe on top

2009-05-25T08:40:00.016Z

On Thursday afternoon, before the beginning of half term there was a stillness and calmness about the house that rarely happens. The hall was free of the piles of shoes, bags, letters, keys, mobile phones etc that usually fill the space. I had been waiting impatiently for the wisteria to trail across our front door and its flowers to bloom in front of the window.

On Thursday it was perhaps at its finest - against a blue sky, a peaceful hallway, its lilac fronds framed my view out and for some reason made me think of that song from "Oklahoma" - " Surrey with a fringe on top". My mum used to love singing that song. I listened to it again on Youtube on Thursday and thought it captured this moment completely. The complete joy of the moment, the optimism of the time of year and my little flowers showing off to as many passersby as possible.

Over the next couple of days the shoes, bags and flotsam and jetsam of daily life mounted up on and around the hall table, the sun came and went but my "fringe" remained,

Sunday morning was perhaps one of the best of the year, a real "Surrey with a fringe on top" morning. Patty's Plum, my favourite oriental poppy, had woken from her winter slumber and added her vibrant colour to the ever increasing blooms in the garden. Isn't it wonderful, this time of year, when we are surprised almost daily by the floral goings on in our gardens?
This riot of colour was a complete contrast to the calmness of my hall and I loved it just as much.

We wandered that afternoon across the city through parks full of families picnicking and toddlers toddling, through deserted roads shimmering in the haze of a glorious day.

The colours of the houses basking in the Sunday sunshine.

We spent the afternoon with friends in their home by the seafront. Played rounders and laughed in the gardens, looked at the view and felt as if were caught inside a painting, framed by the sun, sea and greenery.

Perhaps we had taken a wrong turning and been transported to the South of France - it was that good...

Now if ever there was a "Surrey with a fringe on top" kind of day, this was it. A day of laughter, colour, sunshine, friendship and that feeling you get as you look round at your friends and family and all the other families laughing, playing, lying in the sunshine around you that it is a special day indeed. A day that should be marked with fireworks and fanfares like the ones we saw on the beach that evening, marking the end of the festival and a fitting full stop to a special day.

Two go mad on doughnuts ...

2009-05-21T09:21:00.018Z

So Emma and I finally got to play hooky and we couldn't have chosen a better day for it. After months and months of planning a day out together - we did it! How many times have we sat over our coffees planning our jolly jaunt onto the Downs? Living just streets away, you would think that it would be a tad easier to arrange than this...

The last time I saw Emma, a couple of weeks ago, was during one of her stints at the wonderful Open House she is exhibiting in. I bounded into the room eager to see my chum again and stopped dead in my tracks, how could it be that the pair of us could both be wearing identical clothes, from top to toe I wonder? Fashion faux pas to one side, it's well worth visiting this lovely house if you're around Brighton this weekend (if not, I know that Emma has a lovely Folksy and Etsy shop too which have the added advantage of not needing to phone ahead to check on what you're both wearing!).

Back to yesterday - we pootled up to the Downs to visit one of the Anish Kapoor scultpures that are exhibited around the city as part of the Festival.

Fresh air, two giggling bloggers with no sense of direction and a touch of culture thrown in what could be better?
Nothing much could have been better about yesterday actually.

The sun was out and shining, the sheep and cows were enjoying themselves and the sculpture was absolutely breathtaking. To see the landscape and sky reflected, magnified like this was wonderful. Luckily for us we went along quite early and were able to enjoy the spectacle in relative peace.

Well I say peace, it was quite calm until we arrived. In fact I think the group of arriving schoolchildren were better behaved than us. In our defence, all we were trying to do was take some photos that didn't have various parts of our bodies reflected in the sculpture, but this was easier said than done.

We finally ended up lying down beneath the plinth, taking turns to poke our heads up at an angle and point and shoot.

I'm sure if you look closely at the photos you'll see various bits of us but you won't hear the giggles (unless you listen very carefully).

Well all this art and culture can be just a little tiring don't you think? Emma had planned ahead - she arrived at my house armed with two of the best doughnuts in town (still warm from the oven), a flask of tea (of course) and because she's lovely Emma, freshly ironed crisp white napkins and tablecloth.

So we sat on a bench overlooking the beautiful Indian war memorial,

The Chattri,

drinking our tea and devouring our doughnuts, planning our next jaunt - secateurs at the ready, we plan a day of elderflower gathering and cordial making and of course freshly ironed tablecloths too.

Thanks Emma.

Sunshine on a rainy day ...

2009-05-18T10:43:00.013Z

Hope you've all had a lovely weekend. Ours was good, somewhat tempered by the weather. Fortunately the sun shone when we needed it to most and it ran away and hid for the rest of the time.

We were able to watch our youngest dance outside during the Fringe Festival and join the heaving crowds of people visiting the city for the day.

We were able to go to a grown up birthday party, dressed in our summery finest but were unable to take our coats off ...

We were able to catch half hours of sunshine in the garden

and drool over the promise of strawberries

the blue against the white.

I picked a posy of white flowers in between the showers. The flowers being at their whiteiest (!) after the downpour and the air smelling the sweetest.

My little red teapot now sits on the kitchen table, a floral fragrant reminder that the sun is just a cloud away.

I was able to pick some rosemary and smell the scent of summer and close my eyes to the sight of dreary winter through the windows.

Whilst sitting at my computer just now, I looked up and saw a rainbow on the bookshelf

and a pot of gold at my side.

A sense of time and place

2009-05-12T09:22:00.015Z

Our Friday evenings have been the same for years - a bottle of wine, bar or two of chocolate, curled up on the sofa watching TV, relaxing into the weekend. Recently this little routine has been interrupted by a game of pass the remote control. It doesn't matter how many channels we have, the hunt for something good to watch has been fruitless.

Just as were giving up hope, we spotted this -
featuring Richard Wilson driving around Britain in a Morris Traveller using routes from favourite 1950s travel guides - I was sold. This episode took us across the Yorkshire Moors from Scarborough to Whitby, had the most beautiful scenery and gave the kind of snippets of social history that I love. Nostalgic holidays by the sea sitting beside modern day goths living in Whitby. It was lovely TV, gentle and entertaining, just the kind of thing to welcome in the weekend. (Oh dear am I sounding like a bit of a Victor Meldrew)?

I love to find out more about places, how they were, what they looked like, what people got up to - everyday things really. I love piecing together information and building up a picture. A few weeks ago I was able to find some treasure. Not pretty, pretty, sparkly treasure, something much more personal. An old copy of one of my favourite books The Fortnight in September with a gorgeous dust jacket. I wrote about it here and haven't stopped recommending it to friends to read.

A little while back I found some vintage fabric featuring the very same pier that's mentioned in the story. Another little piece for me to add to my story. I made it into a little pillow to put in my etsy shop. I can almost see the family from the book walking along the seafront together...

I have just finished reading the last of the Mapp and Lucia books. I laughed all the way through them. Having visited Rye, the village in the stories, Tilling, is based on Rye, I had lots of images in my head already of what the streets, shops and houses would look like. E F Benson paints the scenes so vividly that there is no need to visit the place to enjoy the stories.

A few weeks ago I found this little vintage guide to water colour painting. I bought it, not because I wanted to learn how to paint (I know my limitations!), but because the cover reminded me so much of Lucia and George on one of their painting excursions. Daft I know, but my bookshelves are full of little stories like that, pictures that I like to group together to pad out the stories I've read. If you click on the photo you will notice in one of the postcards, a lady walking along with her basket just as they do every morning in the Mapp and Lucia stories - she's on her way to the grocer's for a chat I think ...

I would love one day to take a car journey around Britain in a Morris Traveller with a tartan travel blanket, flask of tea and homemade fruit cake. But of course the roads would have to be completely empty, the shops vintage and the sun always shining! I guess I'm going to have to make do with making up little pictures in my head ...

A glass half full kind of morning

2009-05-08T10:15:00.014Z

It's a grey, wet day here today and I felt the need for pretty.
I felt the need for some calm amongst the chaos
Some peace amongst the piles of paper,
and the angst filled evenings fuelled by the oncoming weeks of exams.

The brighter quilts have been replaced today by softer hues

My sewing has been discarded whilst I play with some pretty threads.

My mug of tea sits to one side whilst I tinker with some pretty china.

I decide not to notice the sticky tape mark on the top of this old tin

To admire some beautiful old handwriting and remember how glad I am not to be back at school...

In short, I take some time to smell the roses.

Those darling buds of May

2009-05-05T08:58:00.016Z

At the end of April I picked the first peonies from our garden. Beautiful, blowsy blooms greeting every passerby as they walked past our front garden. Heralding in, what I hope will be, a lovely May. Here they sit on a table in my living room enjoying the sun from the bay window.

And then on Friday along came May, perhaps one of my favourite months of the year. A month that is full of excitement, you can almost smell the hint of summer on the horizon, the garden bursts into life. In many ways this photos shows exactly what I love about May, the beautifully soft pink of the apple blossom against the green stems of the angelica and the wonderful angelica heads, perfect in their symmetry yet sitting somewhat higgledy piggledy in the corner of a blossoming flower bed and petal strewn lawn.

There is a sense that things are returning to their natural place,

Little Sister regains her favourite reading spot in the apple tree

and here by the sea the Brighton Festival begins.

Saturday morning bright and early we walked to an almost deserted seafront before the children's parade begins. A chance to savour the very short stillness of the place. Just a few moments later, the city is heaving with visitors, families, schools, samba bands as the children take centre stage and parade through the city to open the Festival.
For us it is always a chance to catch up with old friends. We've had a weekend of fresh air, walking and coming home with friends to eat and chat with them.

With very rosy (sunburnt) faces we drove over to here on Sunday. We met some friends and walked over the Downs, saw plenty of these

More of these than I've seen in a very long time

Walked tentatively through fields of these...

And spotted the reddest, handsomest fox going for a Sunday constitutional, we hope not in search of his lunch.

Picnicked on the cliff tops, took deep breaths and admired the view.

A lazy day at home yesterday, feeling tired but good. I looked over at the somewhat bleached peonies and

oh how they reminded me of those crepe paper decorations we used to have at Christmas when I was little, the ones we would put up in our classroom and watch them fade over the weeks - the rolls of crepe paper that you would still find in the local sweet shop months after the event, sitting tiredly in the corner sunbleached, colour fading and yet still tantalisingly attractive.

I want to thank you, yet again, for all the lovely, kind and supportive comments I've been getting recently, it has made a real difference. I am going to make a determined effort to get back into some kind of normal blogging routine and am so looking forward to visiting you all again. In the meantime, please pick one of my peonies to put beside your computer. the roses aren't yet blooming so I can't pass you a ragged rose to share, just yet...

A million reasons to smile ...

2009-04-27T19:49:00.015Z

There must be at least a million here - beautifully blue and enchanting

A walk in the aptly named bluebell woods of "Heaven Farm.

"Can you smell Bluebells?"
"I can smell heaven."
(I Capture the Castle, the film

The sound of the bluebell railway in the distance as we walk through the woods

The enchantment of a magical place

Sitting in a dandelion covered field eating our picnic

Playing frisbee in the sun

Making Spring yellow floral garlands and holding them against the bluest of blue skies

Seeing my daughter, happy and worry free...

That's worth more than a million of anything.

Enchanted April - Part 2

2009-04-21T09:31:00.015Z

I seem to have taken an unconscious blogging break. It could be the Easter Holidays or the mountain of sewing that might serve as an excuse. Deep down I know it is because the happy words have been hard to find these past few weeks. There are many things I could be writing about and would not wish to spoil them by a lack of enthusiasm or tinge of sadness so I shall say that hopefully in a few days normal service will be resumed...

I've just been sitting out in the garden with my cup of tea (where would we be without our cups of tea) and thinking just what a wonderful month April is. Sitting outside you really get a sense of just how enchanted it can be. A month of feverish growth, overnight surprises:

Morning greetings from the first poppies

My lovely wild celandines have forget-me-nots as new friends

The wild garlic sits happily behind the geranium nodding its head

And up in the apple tree a bluetit plays amongst the blossom, completely unaware of its beauty against the Spring blue sky.

On Saturday a parcel arrived for me. A complete surprise, one that had me guessing. A box full of sunshine and kindness from somebody who reads my blog. She does not have a blog of her own (although I keep trying to persuade her) and has read mine since I started. She has bought many things from my Etsy shop and we have shared many enjoyable emails and much news together. She is a very busy lady in the middle of a house move and yet, after emailing me last week, she sensed that things were not all rosy and sent me this. Yes of course I cried when I opened it!!!!!!! Thank you Jackie.

Thank you too to everyone that leaves a comment, sends an email and writes a post, for all the happy (and sad) words we share.

So, yes, now is the time to go and find those happy words .... I'll be back soon.

Roses In Wonderland ...

2009-04-14T08:43:00.030Z

I hope you all had a wonderful Easter weekend. We had a lovely time despite the weather. From the minute Mr Roses stopped worked on Wednesday evening until yesterday afternoon, the sun disappeared and went to shine elsewhere and we almost gave up hope of spending any time outdoors at all. However, we crammed in as much as possible in between all the chocolate eating and, well, I was going to show you what we got up to in chronological order and save the best till last, but hey ho, how could I hide these spring-filled photos from you for any longer. We'll come back to grey skies on another day.

So yesterday we decided to go out whatever the weather. In search of blue skies, open spaces and flowers...

Having driven all the way over to Batemans (more on that another post) it felt silly not to take advantage of being only half an hour away from here:

One of my favourite places to visit. The last time we visited Sissinghurst was a few years ago at the end of summer. The garden was beautiful and the place worked its magic ....

This time I must admit to worrying that I would be disappointed at seeing the place again so early in Spring. Having watched the TV series, read the book, worn the T shirt etc I kept my fingers crossed.

Well I was not disappointed. I felt like Alice falling down the rabbit hole, discovering a true Spring wonderland that left me grinning like the cheshire cat for the rest of the day.

Once again we climbed the Tower, taking in Vita's study (what a wonderful, wonderful room) and gazed across the gardens and surrounding land in amazement.

Seen from above,

the gardens were just unbelievably tempting.

Each with its own individual character.

Close up,

in detail they were stunning.

The beauty of the brickwork allowed to shine alongside the climbing plants.

Carpets of flowers

Blankets

of bulbs

Beauty on a large scale

The famous white garden beginning to bloom

Lovely to read and see that new projects are moving ahead at Sissinghurst too

and we're so looking forward to returning in a couple of months to see the developments.

How could you fail not to be moved and optimistic after seeing all this?

My garden seemed unnaturally small when we came home and the 100 bulbs I planted the other week seemed very few in number but I didn't feel dejected.

The joy that Vita Sackville West and Harold Nicolson shared in their garden is hugely infectious and whilst I know I will never achieve a lot of what I saw, my head is brimming full of colour schemes and planting ideas - just need a white rabbit to take me back there a bit more often.

Happy Easter

2009-04-09T15:10:00.007Z

Just hopped over to wish you all a really Happy Easter weekend. Keep an eye out for that bunny, I'm sure he's on his way ...
x

The day the world went technicolour

2009-04-05T07:03:00.006Z

Last week our computer died. Is there a technical term for it I wonder? This just about sums up my technical knowledge, in fact a certain custard cream eating friend and I have shared many a similar conversation when our computers have been having tantrums ... and many a biscuit has been passed through the ether via our computers (this might account for our computer's sudden demise, a blockage of biscuit crumb resulting in complete malfunction I wonder?).

And, no of course not, not all of my files were backed up and yes, of course, it happened when we were least expecting it to, halfway through a major transplant operation - Mr Roses was transferring information from the old computer to the new one that has been given to us...

The result? Well as usual a complete panic from me. How did we exist before computers ... isn't it just so silly/frustrating/annoying to become so dependent on a machine? One positive side effect was that the house hasn't looked so clean in ages. Unable to retrieve images for my work from the computer, I switched off the sewing machine, switched on the hoover and got to work.

An enforced spring cleaning with lovely results. The bathroom gleamed. I did find myself at one point precariously balanced on one foot on these steps whilst trying to retrieve some old glass bottles on the tall shelf that were in dire need of some TLC. The floorboards were scrubbed, the paintwork washed and a cupboard repainted. The sun shone and I was pleased with myself, not as pleased as I would have been if I could then go downstairs to have a quick catch up on the computer...

Three days later, with our home visibly shaken by my cleaning assault, our new computer came home. At midnight on Thursday Mr Roses was finally able to reconnect me with the outside world and wow was it bright out there!!! Up until now our old computer screen had been the equivalent of sitting on a beach reading a favourite book, the sun behind the clouds so it was decidedly overcast and with a smear of suntan lotion on your reading glass lenses - not the best view in the world. Photos were dull, dull, dull. Then suddenly with one flick of a switch, our new computer transforms us to very sunny climes, a much brighter place without a trace of greasy suntan lotion in sight. I can't tell you how bright and colourful everything now seems and I'm not just talking about my bathroom shelves ...

Time out

2009-03-31T13:06:00.012Z

It's around this time of year that I start to get twitchy. The past few weekends have done a good job reminding me just how much I love Spring, being outside, walking, feeling the sun, enjoying the garden. But I've been a good girl, sitting at my sewing machine, window and kitchen door open to let in the fresh Spring air and maybe the odd little saunter round the garden. Until yesterday .... the bulbs that were part of a free bulb offer from a newspaper arrived. Well, not all of them, 100 of them (which leaves 200 somewhere in transit).

Worried that their late arrival would mean no summer blooms, I decided that I had to get them into the garden as soon as possible. Forty minutes later, 100 bulbs buried and well and truly hidden, not just from Mr Squirrel but from myself... in my haste, as usual, I forgot to mark, what, where and when ... and my family will once again share the surprise of what Miss Contrary has been growing this year.

Back to the twitching, well that forty minutes yesterday put paid to any ideas of staying indoors all day, diligently sewing. I can't tell you how many times I went out into the garden this morning "just to see...", "Just to check ..." even the cats had given up following me in and out and up and down the garden steps. By late morning I gave up.

It was time to go outside properly. To say "hello and welcome back" to new friends.

To enjoy watching the celandines greeting the midday sun,

to wonder at an early arrival (in my wonder I forgot to focus, sorry!).

And finally, to settle, a few favourite cushions, an old garden chair (held together by paint only!), a cup of tea (of course) and my book. This is a book calling to be read outside. Did any of you get to see the wonderful TV series on Sissinghurst recently? M and I devoured it. Having seen the author speak so passionately about his home it's great to read more - I love his way of writing and the connections he draws between Sissinghurst and the land surrounding it. A beautiful place, a wonderful book and my justification for spending such a gorgeously self indulgent hour back in my garden.

Box of delights

2009-03-27T16:06:00.018Z

First of all, I really must apologise for not catching up with your blogs lately - it has been a time of much tail chasing, sewing and more tail chasing. I hope next week to be a good blogger and do some reading of the blogging kind and reply to some comments that have been hanging for far too long - sorry.

Anyway, last week, on the way back from the post office, I popped into a favourite shop for a rummage. Sitting amongst some bits and pieces, bottom up, I saw this box. If I tell you it was covered in roses, a little bit the worse for wear, tattered and ragged around the edges, you'll know why I was interested. A Ragged Roses box if ever I saw one! I dithered for a while and then, what clinched it, was, on opening the lid, the first thing I saw amongst all its treasures was this:

Surely a sign if ever there was! A very old card game that allowed me to play Agony Aunt/Fortune Teller/general wise one all in one go.

Now let me see ... What does the weekend have in store for me:

click on photo to enlarge

... oh well. But wait, all is not lost, look at this:

And for those of you who would like to know a bit more about me:

Well I do live near the beach ....

Guess I'm asking too many questions!!

There were piles of things in my little box (bad sign, I'm already calling it mine!) One of our favourite games, we Roses love games, was a vintage edition of Muggins. We bought the new version of this a couple of Christmas' ago and love it. But there is something so much nicer about finding older games. The packaging, the graphics, the smell of the boxes, the absence of plastic, imagining who else has sat round the table playing with them ...

There were books too. This gorgeous book which must be about a hundred years old with a poorly cover that won't photograph nicely. I think it has been republished, and is worth a hunt.

"The Little Girl's Sewing Book" edited by Flora Klickmann is full of little projects to keep you busy, furnishings for dolly's house, curtains for dolly's cottage window, lambkins bag, perambulator cover, and wonderful old advertisements. A treasure.

As if that wasn't enough - another book with lots of little projects. As a self-confessed non-knitter, the cover of this book had me captivated. Thankfully I don't really need to know how to knit a cardigan for my tennis matches, a complete hiking outfit, a jumper for a dog or harness for a puppy, but what I know you ladies will all love is this:

- a matching jumper to go with your Union Jacks .Go on, you know you've always wanted to .... and if you ask me nicely I'll give you the pattern!

Have a great weekend
x

Weekend Whimsy - Chapter 3

2009-03-23T09:54:00.012Z

It was a good weekend for us Roses, hope it was the same for you. Life's a funny old thing, minutes after writing a cheery post on Friday, a friend told me some sad news - tragic news that shocked us all to the core. News that had nothing to do with our family directly and yet in a way had affected us all so deeply that we all felt the need to be together all weekend long. There is no greater wake up call than a reminder of the fragility of life ... we needed a weekend to savour, to reflect and most importantly to share.

So on Saturday morning we headed up to the Downs with our friends, our oldest friends, had a wonderful walk, picnicked in the grass, held our heads up to the sun, laughed, chatted, looked around at our families and realised just how lucky we all were.

We needed to be away from town, from the noise and bustle. We needed to just be. To be together.

We spent the evening at our friends' home.

Watched the sun setting over the sea and came home late in the evening whilst the pier was still partying.

Have you read/seen "The Darling Buds of May?" To coin a phrase from Pa Larkin the weekend was "perfick". Come to think of it on Sunday, Mother's Day, I felt rather like Pa Larkin with all the amount of food I consumed! Mr Roses did a great impersonation of Ma Larkin cooking all day, breakfast in bed (heart shaped soldiers), the girls made me cupcakes for tea and Ma, sorry Mr Roses, whipped up the best Sunday night supper ever. Thank you!

This weekend I remembered something that blogging had long ago taught me, to enjoy the moment, to find beauty in the most unexpected places and to cherish my family..

Busy doing nothing

2009-03-20T15:36:00.005Z

The day before yesterday I took my book, a cup of tea and my lunch into the garden. I ate my sandwich, drank my tea and sat. For fifteen minutes, yes fifteen minutes, I did nothing other than watch the washing swaying in the breeze. It was wonderful. I can't remember the last time I sat during the day doing nothing and not feeling terribly guilty about it - no sewing in one hand, duster in the other, nothing. Bliss! Those fifteen minutes felt like an hour, sun shining on my face, remembering just how enchanted we were when we moved into this house, the silence of the garden save from the singing of the birds. Even the cats were still at my feet. All three of us just really enjoying the moment.

On the way back home from school that day I found myself humming this tune. Little Sister stared blankly at me and I told her the name of the song but the joy of doing nothing was lost on her! I hope you all find time this weekend for a little 'busyness' of the nothing kind and that all you mummies have a wonderful Sunday.
x

Sunny days seen from afar ...

2009-03-17T10:05:00.013Z

What a beautiful weekend! Unfortunately, because I'd been feeling so poorly last week, it meant that I had to spend most of it indoors catching up on things ... But how lovely it was to wake up every morning to beautiful sunshine streaming in through the bedroom curtains, wonderful. M and I took our morning cuppas into the garden and sat in the silence and enjoyed the feel of that sun on our faces.

To hear the birds singing and see the new shoots appearing in the ground is just a joy. I think early mornings in the garden in Spring and summer must be some of my favourite times.

It's good isn't it to walk round your garden and make plans, such an optimistic feeling. So, still in my pjs, I scattered the lovely hollyhock seeds I'd been sent by Niki.

M took some photos of the beautiful hellebores and Little Sister came bounding outside still in her pjs and enjoying the feel of the grass on her bare feet for the first time this year - whilst inside the house a teenager was still sleeping!

Later on in the morning Mr Roses took the rosebuds to the woods whilst I went off to the post office. I seemed to have experienced a lot of the past weekend vicariously and would love to tell you tales of the first sightings of blossom and frogs doing what comes naturally this time of the year but instead I shall show you some of M's photos and tell you that they came back from the woods, refreshed and full of tales of froggy doings ...

So the weekend seemed to pass in front of the sewing machine with quick little forays into the garden for cuppas and a browse of the newspapers. It was wonderful to see the girls back on the hammock and pink cheeks appearing again on their faces.

Yesterday I did sew some seeds, but unfortunately it was not the "sowing" I would have liked to have done. Piles and piles of these were sewn ready to be sent to a shop, What a great feeling to have finished them on time! It did almost make up for not being able to get outside and enjoy the Spring sunshine.
I wasn't the only one around here who hadn't been out in the sunshine this weekend. Look who I spotted in our bed on Saturday afternoon:

It seems I'm not the only one who likes candy striped sheets!

Another beautiful morning today and whilst tidying up a few minutes ago I found this piece of kindling Little sister had left for me:

... the best kind of sunshine.

Spring bedding

2009-03-13T15:03:00.014Z

Thank you for all your well wishes. I have had to spend this week doing things at a much slower pace than usual but am beginning to feel as normal as I ever will. One of the things I really miss about being younger was those days off school when you were poorly. I was always allowed to spend the days in my mum and dad's bed. Their bed seemed huge to me and was always so much more comforting than mine when I was ill.

When I was very young we didn't have duvets, just crisp clean sheets, that always smelled of being outside on the washing line, blankets and bedspreads. Candy stripe pillowcases or pure white cotton sheets that my mum washed every Monday. The blankets on my bed were pink and the ones on my parents' were a soft shade of aqua. I remember that they all had a satin ribbon trim, were incredibly soft and were the best thing, apart from my mum, to cuddle into.

All these memories came back to me this week when I was ill and cuddled on the sofa with these lovely old blankets. Beautiful soft shades of old wool, looking lovely across my bed. They're used more as the icing on the cake these days rather than the basic ingredients of bed making. Whilst I think I will not resort to giving up my duvets and eiderdowns in favour of blankets and sheets I do remember loving the ritual as a very young child of watching my mum make the beds. These days it's a quick shake and smooth of the sheets, plump up the pillows and on with the duvet, done in minutes.

Bed making seemed to go on forever when I was little, sheets neatly tucked in at the corners, another sheet added with huge wafts in the air as my mum threw it over the bed and then the pile of blankets began, each neatly tucked and turned back. I can't remember what I found the best bit, the smell of the linen, the safety I felt at being so tightly tucked in or the cosiness of the piles of fabric on top of me.

We used to live opposite my primary school. A huge field separating my house from the school. What made days off even better for me when I was sick was lying in that bed, rereading "Heidi" for the nth time, listening to my mum chattering on downstairs. smelling the days meals as they were slowly cooking away and hearing the school bell being rung by the teacher, signalling the end of playtime and knowing that, for me, there were no lessons that day ...

Hankies, hyacinths and whodunnits

2009-03-09T20:16:00.018Z

Hello! Is it a week already? I did intend to post yesterday but the computer was having a tantrum and when it had finally decided to calm down and play nicely, I was feeling too ill to do anything about it! Just when I thought I'd got through the winter without too many hiccups I find myself with the sorest throat I can remember and virtually no energy, so today finds me reacquainting myself with the echinacea bottle ....

Thank you all so much for your lovely comments on my birthday post. I hope you all got your share of jelly and custard and weren't too hyper by the time you got home. Lots of your comments reminded me of all the party food we used to have when we were little - one of the things that I always remembered having were bridge rolls?! We never had them any other time but come my birthday, my mum would go straight to the baker's to order the bridge rolls ... You see I'm rambling maybe I now have a temperature, best make this post short. There's always a winner at party games and the name drawn out of the party hat this time is Yvonne. I wish I could have had one of those games of pass the parcel with a pressie in it for everyone, but could you imagine the size of the parcel and the amount of paper ... I'm rambling again. Big 'Thank you" again to everybody.

Back to yesterday - the first bright sunny Monday morning in a long while. What a difference it made to the start of the week. After walking back from school I went straight to the garden and picked these - the first little posy of flowers from the garden this year. Instant Spring, the beautiful sweet smell of hyacinths and the fresh smell of flowering rosemary with the chalky colours of delicious primroses, nothing better to lift the spirits and brighten the kitchen windowsill.

Taking advantage of the sunshine I took some photos of some bits and bobs to show you. A gorgeous little pile of vintage children's mystery books that I literally stumbled upon at the car boot (my poor toe). I would have devoured these when I was younger, they remind me of the Nancy Drew books I used to love. Wonderful titles too - I'm desperate to find out what the "Lovelace Luck" is and, of course, the mystery attached to it.

As for "The Mysterious Mr Fairweather" I wonder what he's been up to and whether Edith and Peggy find out, I expect they do somehow. As for "Nicolette goes guiding" well that sounds like "Jolly good fun" to me and maybe I'll spend this evening, cuddled up on the sofa with my lemsip finding out...

Oh the pleasure of having new books to read. Stumbling across new ones, rereading old ones and unexpectedly being given a book as a present by somebody. Love is a new book. A new book that you have heard so much about and have failed to find a copy that you can afford. Love is Mr Roses tracking down this book on the other side of the Atlantic and presenting it to me as a complete surprise...

Life here at the Roses' household is not always as rosy as you might think. At the moment, when life is not as easy as it might appear, I can't tell you how heartening it is to know that a simple jar of flowers and a pile of books can make me smile.
See you soon, I'll try not to leave it so long this time.