Och Aye the Noo, or whatever...

Well it certainly feels like Scotland, with all the snow outside. Maybe a good thing, as it gets me in the mood for designing my Scottish Loft Room. I've been looking up reclaimed hand-made bricks for the chimney breast and fireplace and I found some lovely little ceramic insets for the quarry tiles in the grate. The one I'm going to use shows a picture of a cute little baby quail. I know it's a bit nancy for a 28 year old man's room, but the Scots like quail don't they? To eat anyway. I've also given him some rather romantic looking 19th century pre-Raphaelite prints for the gable-end walls, which I think he'll like because, although it's philosophy he's studying and not art, there must be a lot of philosophy behind the pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood. There's philosophy behind everything I suppose, that's the whole point.... Oh well, whatever. The colours match, so that's that.

Curtains for 17th Century Farmhouse (saye or serica?)

Hi Everybody, I need some help! I'm a fledgling interior designer in need of advice re curtains for a 17th Century farmhouse sitting room. I believe the material used in this era was either saye or the more expensive serica (Latin for silk - I looked it up), but can find very little information and hardly any images. The ceilings are low and beamed, so not sure whether to choose short or long curtains. I'd like to know whether the material would have been plain or patterned and likely colours. All knowledge would be gratefully received!

Shades of Art Nouveau

Shades! That was the name of the boutique in Hounslow High Street! Wow, my memory cells are still in tact! Just a quick catchup from last time. Wanted to say that Gustav Klimt was (and is) just so amazing! My favourite artist by far. However, I'm looking for a painting of Sacre Couer and he doesn't appear to have painted one - der!!! Montmartre is one of my favourite places in the whole world and I would like to record that fact by placing a painting of said location on my sitting room wall, but so far, nothing to match either colour scheme (cranberry reds, purple, blue-pink) or art nouveau style. Does anyone out there have a suggestion?

Hey Days & Halloween

Hi Chaps, long time no speak! Boy, things sure have changed around here since last we spoke! I'm a home girl now, for the time being anyway, and I have to say that mostly, it's highly recommended. Apart from the guilt that is ..... but that's what comes of being catholic! I really should get a job soon, but to be honest, I can't face the idea of going back to an office. I havn't worked in a shop since I was 17 and although it was fun back then, I'm no longer up to skiing down stairs in dress boxes and borrowing the latest fashion for an outing to Kew Boathouse. Aaahh, those were the days! Whatever happened to Maria? The Irish girl I latched onto in the boutique (damn, I can't remember the name .... Hounslow High Street, circa 1970 - anyone else remember?) She really was a bad girl, but I hope she made good in the end. She tried to get me to steal things for her, but being a convent school girl, there was no way I could possibly break the law! She went off me after a while, when she realised I was only any good as a stooge or a lookout. There were nasty times too, at the Boathouse, when she would start fights and expect me to help, but I was no more the violent type than I was a thief. Kew Boathouse though .... what a place! Just thinking of those hedonistic days brings wafts of Youth Dew & Brut to my nostrils - how I loved that stuff! Hey, I've just remembered that she also had sex with a guy I really fancied, but I don't think she knew I fancied him, so I let her off, and I went out with him later anyway, so no probs. Well, there were probs actually, but nothing to do with Maria. Apart from coming round to my house one night, in the hope of a quick bonk, he didn't officially ask me out until he'd married someone else, the rat! But hey..... I was only just 18, so I didn't really know any better. Those were innocent days for me, so in case you're wondering, he never did get that bonk, which was good, because after 2 dates (and the house visit), his wife rang me at work and was actually jolly decent, so I promised I would never see him again and I didn't. He never rang me anyway, but I wouldn't have broken my promise, even if he had..... honest.

Oh well, I suppose I'd better do something constructive. I've got homework to do and Halloween Treats to wrap, so no rest for the wicked. Oh.... the homework, I've started a college course, didn't I tell you? Two actually. You didn't really think Flossie would sit on her backside all day did you? You should know me by now!

Till next time folks..... Happy Halloween!!!

Getting There

In my search for the Spirit of Christmas, I came across these stories:-

At a school in Derby, three six year olds were playing the wise men in the school play. As they came to Mary & Joseph at the stable, the first one handed over his present and said "Gold", the second presented his gift and said "Myrrh", then the third one gave them his & said "And Frank sent this."

Or from another school, two little girls were talking about their roles in the Nativity play. "I'm going to be a virgin." one announced smugly. "That's nothing" replied the other, "I'm going to be an angel". "Well my mummy says its much harder to be a virgin." retorted the first.

Or what about the boy who only had one line to say in the Christmas Play, which was "I am the light of the world". On the night though, he froze at the sight of so many people, but his mother was in the front row and she started to mouth the words for him. Following her cue, he summoned up his courage and shouted "My mother is the light of the world!".

I'll report back with anymore I find & I'll also finish the Jongleurs story!

Jingle Bells at Jongleurs

Now about this Christmas Do. I distracted myself by talking about minicab drivers & their lack of direction. Driving-wise that is, not career or life-wise. I just couldn't believe it when he asked me the way! I gave him the full address and I'd even printed a map from the Jongleurs website, but he still didn't have a clue. Eventually, he went as far as he could go in Watford High Street, then dropped me off outside a lap-dancing club. Now I ask you, is that any way to treat a lady?

So there I was, dressed up to the nines and all alone, down a dark side street, outside a lap-dancing club. I suddenly remembered the wonders of mobile technology, but decided not to pull out my cute, pink mobile just yet. I needed to get past the tall guy in the shop doorway, hiding his face beneath the wide brim of his hat & turned-up collar of his long, black coat. He was glancing at me, furtively, from the corner of his eye. "Maybe he's a pimp" I thought, "on the lookout for that much-sought-after genre of females: middle-aged, reasonably well-preserved & desperately in need of a few bob to get their kids through Uni". But I wasn't having any of that... "Oh No Buster, you make one move on me and you're pussy food.... I mean cat food, kitty litter, whatever....just don't even think about it, OK?" So with those words in mind, I tottered past him, in my high-heeled boots, & out into the main street, where I pulled out my phone. "Kerry, help me!", I whined, "The driver was a moron & I don't know where I am!". "Where are you?" she said helpfully. Frantically, I looked around for landmarks. "I'm near Burger King" I said. "Oh No! Flossie... you're quite a long way away!" Great! You wait till I get my hands on that driver! Or better still, I'll make friends with that pimp & get him to do my dirty work! But in the meantime, I had a Christmas Do to attend, so off I trotted, as fast as my spaghetti legs could carry me (damn you Shelley... can I never forget?). Down the High Street I went, under the bridge, past Chicago, like Kerry told me, & there it was.... at last, the bright lights of Jongleurs!

The Knowledge

It amazes me how many minicab drivers don't know their way around. They should be forced to do "The Knowledge" like proper "black cab" drivers. Do they seriously think I can give them directions? This is the woman who took 3 hours to drive from Feltham to Epsom & was finally shown the way by a deaf lady. That was shortly after I'd driven through the gates of a large mansion house, hoping to get directions from the butler. After parking beneath some trees, I walked nervously across the crunchy gravel drive & stared at the imposing front door. I then wondered whether I should look around the side for a Tradesman's Entrance, but as I walked past an enormous bay window, I couldn't resist the urge to peer through it. I pressed my face lightly to the glass, with my hands held up to shut out the sunlight. It took a few seconds to focus, but then, to my deep embarrassment, I saw several people seated around a large oval table, gazing back at me with various expressions of bewilderment & confusion. I smiled weakly & drew back a few inches, as a man rose awkwardly to his feet. He'd only taken a few steps, when the others began to push back their chairs & stumble, frantically, towards the window. It was then that I realised this was no ordinary family gathering and no ordinary posh house in the wealthy commuter belt. It was a mental home, or to be more PC, a residence for the mentally challenged. I will refrain from further detail, but I think it's fair to say that I gave the poor devils a bit more excitement than they would normally experience during Sunday Afternoon Tea.

I decided it was unlikely that these chaps could give directions to the Polo Club Barbeque, so I jumped back into my old MG & reversed, pretty sharpish, down the drive & shot off down another country lane..... which was where I met the deaf lady.

Goodwill Hunting

I'm trying hard to catch that illusive, wispy thing called Christmas Spirit, but with my father-in-law going blind & my sister-in-law's husband dying from some horrible, Alzheimer's-like disease, the task is even harder than usual. In addition, my colleague's father died 2 weeks ago & the mother of my brother's 2nd ex-wife died yesterday. Do more people die at Christmas, or is that just an illusion, created because we have such high expectations of the "festive season"? Perhaps it just seems less of an injustice at other times of the year. Christmas is supposed to be a time of joy & goodwill, so what's with all the sadness? The word "supposed" is probably important because, to a certain extent, it's up to us to make the joy & goodwill, but there's not much we can do about death & Alzheimers.

ANYWAY, I'm going to move on & resume my search for Christmas Spirit.... and I don't just mean in the drinks cupboard! In my next post, I shall tell you about my Christmas Do at Jongleurs. Bet you can hardly wait!