Love the Lace-ups

Here's my second pair of Miss L Fire boots: the lovely lace-upscalled Steinbeck.  The mesh inserts on the side are sort of gray, and with black tights, they look a blue-gray.   Unfortunately, this is the full extent of my Miss L Fire collection, as they are create a considerable dent in the budget.  I wish I could wait and get them on sale, but I have such a common size, I have to get them when they first come out.  They even have the comfort factor, which is quite amazing.

These babies, and the gray ones of the previous post, come from a lovely shop called Wysteria Lane.  It was voted the customer's favourite shop in a recent poll run by our local newspaper.  Long may they thrive!

Funky Fashion Recue

For some reason, I've been in a fashion funk lately, unable to put together an outfit that really pleases me.  Everything is OK, except for something.... sometimes it's only when I go out the door, that I think, "Dang, this ain't it!  This scarf...gloves...skirt...something.... isn't dancing to the same tune as everything else."

So, regardless of the outfit on top, I can be sure that these little darlings will look good.  They are from a company called Miss L. Fire from London.  (Missle fire, get it?!!)  Anyway, their official name is "Fitzgerald" which I think is kind of jazzy.  They do look good with Victorian clothes, even though you don't get to see a lot of the shoe.  Actually, they look best when you don't see any leg, but there it is.

When in doubt, turn to poetry

Well, for some reason, the computer will not accept my images, and having tried it twice, and only got the message that it is an "error", I have decided to momentarily give up and switch to the written word.  What else can I do at this point, other than throw the machine out the window? 

So, in an effort to put something onto the blog, I'm posting an old poem of mine from some years back.

Hard to Believe, but it's all Mine

No one loves a big bum

And that's a shame

Considering all the cream cakes

that went into building it

All the temptations succumbed to

the ice creams licked

the pastries, the pies,

the diet denied

The least the public could do

is stand back

And applaud.

I don't think Shakespeare will be afraid of losing his title as the ultimate wordsmith, but at least it's a blog entry. 

The End of the Sock Saga

At the last meeting of the knitting group, we had a "ceremonial hand-over" of the needles, signalling the end of my sock knitting saga.  These needles, you see, were actually borrowed, so the hand-over meant that I would never, ever have to navigate 50 million stitches with them again.  The size says Disc12, which means they are like knitting with eyelashes.  How wonderfully fast is that?  About 1/8 inch per row.  Oh, how I raced along!

Anyway, Gorgeous Husband finally got his handknitted black socks for Valentine's Day.  OK, they were to have been for Christmas, but let's not be picky.  It only took me 3 months to do it. I can't tell you how pleased I was that they fit.  As I told a friend, "if they don't fit, we're going to have to chop off some toes!"

So, with some giggling and clapping, Jo got her needles back.  As you can see from the photo, we are all diligent, except for Jenny, who is reading a knitting book. We will have to discipline her.

Unfortunately, as marvellous as the socks are, they will always be hidden in shoes, so really, no bragging rights at all.  Won't be doing that again.

Our 15 minutes of fame, minus about 14 minutes

 How fabulous to receive an email yesterday with the video clip of myself and Gorgeous Husband when we visited Highclere Castle, the location for the filming of the fabulous Downton Abbey.  We knew that we were being filmed as part of a documentary that was going to be aired on Australian TV, but the filming was in November, so one tends to forget that eventually these things come out!

 

Other photos of Downton appear on this blog appear in November, 2011.

 

Many thanks to Helen, of P and P Tours, who organised the trip and forwarded the video clip.

 

 Myself and one of the other members of the trip.  I'm in the black hat.

 

The following documentary is a good overview of the Downton Abbey  programme and gives a balanced view (both pro and con) for what it was like to be a servant in a large country estate at the turn of the century.

 

In this clip,  Gorgeous Husband and I appear at about the 8 minute mark.  There is a scene of us coming down the lovely carved wooden stairs.  We must have gone up and down those stairs 10 times while they tried to get it just right!  It was such a treat to get to see the castle again.

 

http://au.news.yahoo.com/sunday-night/video/watch/28200585

My sketchbooks, and trips down Memory Lane

I have been collecting images in sketchbooks for a long time, ever since we were taught to do that at art college, and as a result, I've found that I've become ridiculously attached to them.  I have them dating back to 2003, and they are full of clothes, clothes ideas, colour combinations, drawings, exhibition programmes, entry stubs, nature's colour combinations, poems, and pretty much anything that grabs my eye.  I'm embarassed to say that if the house were to burn down, these are the things I would like to save. 

Every time I go through them, I feel like it's a conversation with a friend.  I remember why I liked the image, and what possibilities it represents to me.  On this particular page, besides the fashion, is a photo of a cabin on the west coast of Canada that Gorgeous Husband and I spent a weekend at, courtesy of a neighbour of ours who owned it.  It was sweet and quaint and rustic and in the middle of the woods.  The outdoor loo had a stained glass window in the door, and outside there was a hammock strung between two trees.  We could sun ourselves on the rocks nearby and see the ocean.

I remember we had to hike a distance to get to it after we disembarked from the ferry, walking over ferns and hearing the crunchy pine needles and bracken underfoot, and I was grumbling about "how far is it anyway?"

It was such a kind gesture for our neighbour to allow us to use it, especially as it had taken years of living across the street from her before she dropped her reserve and became friendly.  It only took about 15 years.