Said the Frenchman. It appears that the household is divided on the matter of rust. I'm quite partial to it myself, the Frenchman thinks it will give him tetanus.
On a recent foray to my local auction house I chanced upon this old meat safe (for those in colder climes, a meat safe was used to stop your leg of lamb from becoming fly-blown). It was love at first sight. The dishevelled latticework bringing back memories of cloistered harem windows in Turkey. Incidentally, you should visit the Institut du Monde Arab in Paris which replicates these sort of windows - exquisite and fascinating. That was in my poncing-about-the-world days of course, now it's nappies and mexican stand-offs over auction-purchases. Which brings me back to this post's title. Naughty words lose something when used in a foreign language. One can't be taken seriously, which is unfortunate really as the ensuing hilarity just makes things worse.
Shambles. That is the state of my house at the moment. Complete. Utter. Shambles. So I took a picture of the only space in the entire house with some semblance of respectability.
And while we are on the topic of babushkas does anyone else have a nesting toy issue? My sister and I are united in our mutual disdain for said toys. Our babushkas never look like this until about 10pm at night when I have summoned the energy to put them back together. They mostly lie about the house, disembodied or decapitated. Most pleasant.
Then there are the evenings when I don't summon the energy to tidy up and I impale my foot on a babushka body part as I sneak in to a darkened room to check the kiddies. !@*&&$#$)@)!_#&! (read: bother, oh dear and tsk tsk).
Have you checked out Maisonette? Scrumptious blog and über-talented couple making excellently magnificent things through their site Supermobilet! You should check out their stuff here. The Sydney Picnic Blanket is inspired - there is a map of the Sydney coastline on the front of the blanket and the idea is to use the enclosed needle and thread to mark favourite picnic destinations etc. I love it - fantastic family heirloom of the future!
Is this the new face of neo-conservatism in Australia? A sulky pout and slightly furrowed brow - the grimace of the disenfranchised? One can only hope so.
I have a serious case of auctionitis, that, coupled with a slight napoleon complex has given me a mild case of the 'mean reds'. What if the auctioneer doesn't see me with my hand in the air? What if I lose all self-control and bid beyond our financial limit. Will I have to calm a screaming baby by breastfeeding while bidding? Will that break auction-etiquette? Could put a few punters off their stride I suppose. The auction is this Saturday @ 10am and I promise I will stop rabbiting on about it thereafter.
On a brighter note I got a scrumptious package of fabric from Marta. She's da bomb when it comes to gorgeous African wax print fabrics - check out her stuff here and her lovely blog here. Thanks Marta. I sent some of these and this in return.
Can't afford to have something framed professionally? Head to Ikea.
I got a quote a while back to have these two beautiful kuba cloths framed. Without blinking an eyelid the man said "$275". I did an excellent impression of a goldfish. He then said, with a theatrical flourish, "each", whereupon I exited the establishment.
I'm sure there is tremendous skill and effort involved in framing but really. Maybe he just didn't want the gig. Anyway, off I went to ikea and bought two frames (names escape me). Brought them home and they sat in the corner for some time - too bright, shiny and spick&spaney for my taste. Then one of the girls flipped them over and cha-ching! I ripped all the framey bits out and flipped the back over so it faced the front - the chipboard looks great with the kuba and for $40 all up, I smile every time I look at them.
One of my favourite weekly excursions is to my local auction house. Many avoid it as junky, I say junky should be my middle name. Let's all embrace our inner junkiness. Anyway. I unearthed this sign last week and with a left-bid of $10, it was mine. Not that I've gone and found religion, mind - just liking the quirk-factor. Actually, I have no idea what to do with it. Have been considering hanging it above the front door as a stern reminder to potential rev-heads. Perhaps I could hang it in the entrance-way of the new place, think it might set the tone nicely for visitors.
Well she got through the day without anyone attempting to eat their lunch off her dress so I guess it passes muster as a frock as opposed to a tablecloth. Thanks for the comments by the way, here and on flickr, sure makes a gal feel good!
Still trying to get organised for the house auction. I'm trying very hard not to get too attached, needless to say I spend every spare moment rearranging the furniture in my head and repainting the walls. I would make a rotten Buddhist, no asceticism in this neck of the woods - no sirree!
xx PS Thought you might like the flowers - that colour makes me smile.
Breaking the cardinal craft rule by photographing a finished frock at 11 o'clock at night. Japanese pattern courtesy of my big sister along with her usual sewing expertise, fabric from Spotlight. Hope the Small Person's not going to look like a walking tablecloth in it. I'll let you know....