Rattling On...

A conversation piece for the home...

I took myself off to Leek flea market yesterday, but when I got there I found there was all sorts of extra stuff going on. Food market, craft market, a marching band, sunshine, a stuffed deer...

If on some off chance you've been reading this drivel for more than two years you may be reminded of this post. Same stallholder. Maybe it's a little sideline she has going. I am no zoologist but if I had to take a punt I'd say this was a roe deer doe. Which also sounds like a move in line dancing.

I was quite restrained and, though sorely tempted, didn't buy the deer; but did purchase an old clothes horse. And it isn't stuffed. I am contemplating whether to leave it looking tres shabby chic or tart it up. In as much as you can tart up a few bits of wood cobbled together to make an airer.

Where I spend my days...

Another glorious day yesterday, with a pleasant breeze to make it even more lovely. I thought I'd show you a little bit of the place where I spend my working days, the outside at least.

A lot of care is taken to keep it looking nice and also to be quite wildlife friendly as well. On a day like today it was looking its best...

The school has grown around the original college which was built in 1881, though was founded in the sixteenth century. When I was at school there were five secondary sites in the town. A girls' Upper and Lower, a boys' Upper and Lower and the Catholic school. Now the four boys' and girls' sites are all merged into one super-school (this one) and three former grounds turned into housing estates, with one now being the library and area education offices. The Catholic school remains the same, but larger. Though still a lot smaller than 'my' school. If you see what I mean! We have around 1300 students from quite a large catchment area.

The gym in the last picture is currently doing sterling service as the exam hall. When I took my exams none of the schools had anywhere big enough and we all went to the local Drill Hall, next to the Police Station (and mortuary...), to toil over the papers. Those were the days...

When I was taking these photos, after school when all the students had gone home, I was gratified to find that one of the site staff came to challenge me. I had sunglasses on and he hadn't recognised me. One day this camera will get me arrested...

Rear view...

If I had a blog banner this would be it. This is the view of the post-war housing estate you get when driving past the station in town, I love it.

Right along the bottom of the picture are the roofs of the Victorian houses behind the viaduct. I don't like looking at the viaduct any more as a large halls of residence has been built behind it. It's an eyesore, necessary I'm sure, but so aesthetically unpleasing.

Further along are the Victorian terraces, one of which on this photo was my first home with my first mortgage. We sold it to move down south, where we had to pay twice as much for about a third of the space. I don't think there's such a big disparity these day as a lot of people live here who work in the connurbations of Manchester and Sheffield and the prices rose accordingly.

Having said that you can still buy a decent sized house here for what some lunatics pay for a car.

And peeping out on the left, behind the church, is the roof of the house we had before we moved to Russia. It looks like it's close to the Church but it isn't really. It's at the top of an incredibly steep hill, one that people avoid walking up if at all possible, and one you don't drive on in winter. Getting to school and work used to be interesting when the girls were small if there was even a hint of frost!

I think the backs of houses are more interesting than the fronts. Mostly. Some people have those enviable houses with well-tended gardens and neat driveways. Mine aspires to be one of those from the front, but I spend much more time attending to the back. I suppose because we sit out there. Or we would if... you know.

I leave you with one more back shot...

the Georgian Crescent, which I've blogged about before (and again and probably more over the years). Now boarded up and still waiting to be rescued. Reading the post in the first link I realise that a tiny bit of progress has however been made and I shall have to go out and do a recce to prove it...

Bluebird...

When we visit National Trust properties we usually end up in the tea rooms but not the shop. Or at least we may look, but I've never bought anything before.

However, at Little Moreton Hall at the weekend I saw this tiny jug and couldn't resist. It's so vintage in appearance, a bit blurry, and reminds me of the things in this post. It's also available in their on-line shop.

I suppose it's a milk jug really, but from the moment I saw it I thought it would make a better vase. Besides, I have a few milk jugs already...

Back to work...

Not the most exciting of photos perhaps, but just to show that the frogspawn survived the snow and the little tadpoles are hatching and milling around.

Back to work today, where has two weeks gone? How come holiday weeks and working weeks don't seem to occupy the same amount of time and space?

I admit that I've been busy and idle in equal measure. There are things I got done that I wanted done, and things left that I really would've liked to have got out of the way. But then I also did get something out of the way that I've been meaning to do for such a long time.

I started selling on Ebay.

I've been buying stuff for years, I even used to bid from Russia and have the booty delivered to my parents' house, but for some reason I never got round to opening a seller's account. Turns out it's very easy, getting your things ready is the time-consuming part. Photographing, weighing and pondering what you'll say in the listing. So much more civilised than car booting!!

And I upgraded my phone, not so much fun. All that faffing with transferring data and such malarkey. Thank goodness the bloke in the shop offered to do it all. Even after I got him to reduce my contract by £9 a month-with a free handset. I quite like a good haggle. Unless it's at a car boot sale...

Boris...

Boris has become a bit of a piscine celeb...

So many people contacted the management at the Pavilion Gardens that a special notice was put up...

(You can click on the picture to enlarge)

It would appear that a spot of skullduggery has been going on and someone has left poor old Boris in the indoor pond at the park. He attracts quite a crowd and the gardener is kept extra busy answering questions on fish keeping.

You learn something every day...

On our trip out to Sudbury Hall the other day I noticed this tree in the front garden. It has balls, like those clackers that were banned in the 70s, hanging from the very top.

Never seen them before. Not the trees, the balls. It's a plane tree and these are the fruit.

They look for all the world like someone has thrown them up there and they've got tangled in the branches. Or like Christmas baubles. I wonder how far the seeds manage to get blown and how many local gardens have interlopers in them?

The tree was very tall and most impressive...

Oh look, it's raining...

Just for a change it is raining here... so much so the pond is almost overflowing. And it is cold, and grey and miserable. In short it's not very springlike.

I finished off a book in bed yesterday morning then straightaway picked up another one. Then I did something I haven't done for a long time, I carried on reading it until it was finished. I did get out of bed and do other things as well as reading I might add. However, it wasn't fit to do much else really on such a dull day.

It's incredible to think that half the country is in a virtual drought while we are deluged almost daily throughout the year. It would be nice if we could mix it all together somehow, living in all-year-round rain is depressing even though we are grateful to have the water...

I know people say it all the time but it really didn't used to be like this when I was small. I remember proper summers when the sun shone for weeks on end, and yes it rained in autumn and snowed in winter. Proper seasons. Maybe the weather patterns really are changing. Not sure I want to live forever in the damp, though.

And it costs as well. The heating bills are phenomenal, ridiculous. When we first moved down south (why did we come back...?) I was amazed at the difference in average temperature and the lack of heating needed. We didn't have, or need, a tumble dryer. Essential kit here unless you want as much wet on the inside of the house!

But then the rain is what makes the countryside so beautiful...

It's Friiiiiiiiiiday...

The bumble bees seem huge this year. As the window has been open at work we've had a couple inside. They were really big and mighty loud. The room is very high and only someone tall, perched on a table or chair, can reach them. Then we put them back outside.

Two whole weeks off work now for Easter, and how I'm looking forward to the time to be able to do and make things. I have made a wish list of things I'd like to pack into the time, nothing thrilling just stuff there hasn't been a moment for recently. It won't include much gardening as all the chunking has paid off and there is only one border to tackle. Of course I left the worst til last.

Mixed, colder, weather has been forecast so I won't feel guilty knitting inside with a DVD on. Or baking and listening to music. Or reading more than three pages of a book before nodding off...

People often comment that those who work in Education have a lot of holidays. It may seem that way. But bear in mind that for a start we have no floating days whatsoever so can't take an inpromptu day off ever. It's peak time or nowt.

Also, not everyone gets paid holidays, it's increasingly common to only be paid for the time kids are actually in school (and statutory bank holidays), so you get the hols but no money for them...

And finally, when you've been with hundreds of  (other people's) teenagers for seven or so weeks, been with them for much longer than you're with your own teenagers, you need a holiday. Or more specifically a break, time in which to re-charge and get ready for more teenage traumas (or deal with your own) in the next term.

What we've been waiting for...

Everyone is loving the sunshine. At school all tip out at lunchtime to eat on the grass. The boys climb the trees (forbidden), the girls sunbathe (not forbidden unless flashing too much flesh).

Windows are flung open during lessons and there is more than the usual amount of silliness because we all suspect (know) it won't last for long. I was walking down the science corridor yesterday and saw a teacher had hoiked a boy outside. He was twelve or so. He had his back to me and the teacher was just saying...

'...and you running round with a pretend plastic penis is not funny, is it?'

I caught her eye and mouthed 'Oh yes it is.'

The Thing...

Remember the jumble sale I went to a few weeks ago, the one where I said I'd bought a thing?

Well, this is the thing, or at least the wire frame is. I added the plates. I'm not sure whether this is what it was originally intended for but it looks ok.

I did also think I could put it in the garden as some sort of frame to climb a small plant around. It was 50p...whatever it gets used for it hardly broke the bank!

Must keep digging...

It's cake stall season and I've been hard at it on the fairy cakes. I have got the routine down to a fine art but late night texts from the safety of a bedroom, informing me there was another fund raiser the next morning are not competely welcome.

Nor was the discovery that pink smarties (sold in aid of Breast Cancer research) are not pink, but a dirty lilac colour. See top picture between green and red. I was going to e-mail smarties to have a moan, I wanted shocking pink like the box implied- for the top of the cakes, yes I was going to moan but the link on the site didn't work...

I know it's petty, and no doubt they'd blame it on natural colouring and all that. But I'm willing to eat filthy E numbers for charity.

I did three hours of gardening yesterday. One at work as a bit of therapy. Not for me, for the kids, but guess who ended up doing all the donkey work? Muggins.

The other two hours were in my own garden, I was on a roll and kept on until it was so dark I fell over some ornamental stones. By which I mean some weird lumps of limestone the previous owners set into the path. They were in a sort of spiral that took up quarter of the garden, now there are just a few hard to shift ones. One day I'll hire a bulldozer and deal with them.

Three hours of firking out buttercups and cutting back shrubs. My forearms ache and I worry that I'll end up like Popeye. Just without the pipe. Oh, and I only wear the sailor outfit in the house these days. At weekends.

I dunny think I'll bother...

I prefer a bit more privacy myself. But I do like the rather fetching lemon colour of the ceramics. Never seen a yellow one before.

My Great grandma in Wales had an outside toilet at the end of the garden. It was horrible. I mean really. No lighting, snails climbing the walls, no running water. It was an earth closet. When I was small that was considered almost third world, now it'd be eco-chic.

Someone to watch over you...

The cats like to do daredevil stunts on the stairs and bannisters. Frank likes to stroll along the top landing rail as if it weren't a thirtysomething foot drop.

The first landing is, obviously half that distance, and he has experience of that. When we hadn't had him long and he was still expolring, I'd put a granny blanket on the bannister as a bit of decoration.

Frank leapt onto the rail and he and the blanket sailed to the ground floor. I think I moved so fast I got there almost as fast as he did by using the more conventional stair method. He was a bit dazed but otherwise unharmed. The bannisters have remained clutter free at all times since.

Harry likes to peer over the gap, sometimes looking as if he'll leap onto anyone passing. But his favourite hiding place is on top of wardrobes. I've never seen him get up there and never heard him get down, he's either very light-footed or he can fly. I'm going with the flying option.

Knicker pink...

I know that isn't really a colour, although for me it's the best description of these particular shades. If you don't believe me take a look here or here.

Maybe Vintage Lingerie Pink would be better, but just not as punchy.

The pillowcase pair is new (shock, horror- not thrifted) but I customised it with a shell edging, this time without the blanket stitch base, which makes it more delicate I think. The hanger is in a darker but complementary shade.

They were for a gift, or part of one, with a sort of 40s retro colour scheme. There were also pyjamas and a lovely vintage jug. Bedroom theme.

I've bought more pillowcases and they will feature heavily this Mothering Sunday. Same but different. If anyone is interested in how the edging is done then let me know and I'll cobble together a tutorial.

Harry found them fascinating. Harry is my friend. Frank is not. His urinary tract has struck again, same place. My bloody bed. Just as I was leaving for work yesterday morning, it gave new meaning to the phrase pissed off.

I wasn't spending £18 at the launderette again, so decided to spend it right here at home. I jammed the king size into the washer and mauled the door shut. Pressed start and hoped it wouldn't be a very expensive quick wash. Fortunately when wet it fit into the washer a lot better and as it was so large it plastered the whole drum and spun most satisfactorily and evenly, the washer was where I left it and hadn't hurtled across the cellar floor as it so often does.

Five hundred hours of tumble drying later and it was ready to put back on the bed. I will be placing a collection plate in the front porch to raise funds for the electric bill.

In other news:

The pond pump has stopped working again. I heaved it out and winkled out all the foul gunk to no avail. Accordingly Joe le bassin will be coming round later to give it a service. I know when I'm beaten.