Treasure hunting for adults

My name is yump and I am addicted to charity shopping...

I like to think of it as 'Treasure Hunting for Grown Ups', although I may be kidding myself because I am actually just a tight wad thriftily minded. There is just something about finding something wonderful, that fits, is keenly priced and is no longer wanted, needed or badly fitting to someone else. In fact, the majority of my wardrobe is now cobbled together from the excessive mores of other people's fashion whims, or the remnants of a bored housewives' desparate attempt to achieve some semblance of peace & purpose via the extensive flexing of an ill-advised credit card. And God bless every last one of them!

Now this is a charity shop that I had been in countless times without realising that there was a whole world of wonder upstairs. It reminds me of the charity and retro shops I used to visit as a student in Nottingham in the early 90's and has therefore become one of my favourite charity shops. Venture up a snug little staircase to find small themed rooms (apologies for the pics: I'm just getting the hang of my new phone..)

everything you need for a shimmery shiny, sequin-tastic night out, or just to make that Friday night takeaway curry a little more special

everything for the bride on a budget with a lust for meringues and sexual amnesia

'Rehab'? More 'Retox'

 

...a welcome for 'groovy chicks'...

 

 

Just behind me in the mirror, you can just see one of three rails, packed with every shade of man-made fibre ever knitted. I think my camera couldn't cope anymore and just said 'Enough now'. I'll get a pic when it's calmed down a bit

But don't forget that charity shops are a fantastic source for wonderful books, tossed out by ingrates, gawd bless 'em.  Here are some I picked up recently:

from top: Dan Rhodes is a wonderful author, who lulls you into a cosy world of calm and warmth before kicking your much-loved cat down the stairs, although you do feel better for him doing so nonetheless. This book, however, stays warm and buys you a pint. Read him.

middle: the late Elspeth Thompson wrote the fabulous 'The Wonderful Weekend Book', an inspiring read to really help you make the most of your weekend. I bought it when I left my own weekend job and aim to gradually work through the suggestions.

bottom: I love Gisele Scanlon's energetic and informative 'Goddess' books, and 'The Goddess Experience' is just beautiful and addictive: I can't help but dip in and read about a life so remote from my own, although it contains enough attainable morsels for me not to feel depressed or inadequate. Sheathed in a perfectly functional and pretty white jacket, look what's underneath...

mmmm; pretty!

...as is the back

...as is the inside

Another useful resource is Green Metropolis: make a wish list, let it fester for a few months and feel like Xmas when one of the titles becomes available (I only ever seem to want books that no one sells on there.) I once bought a perfect copy of Andy Goldsworthy's 'Wood'...for £3.75! Wonderful! (actually, I think with postage it touched 5 whole pounds...)

Here are some handy rules to follow in order to get the most from your charity patronage-ing:

• Give clothes a good sniff: if it smells of wet dog / death, put it back. In my extensive experience, no amount of washing or fragrance dousing / pickling will get rid of that smell. You will think you've managed it until it meets the rain; that moistness will awaken the sodden-hound odour. Save your energies for something worthwhile, like knitting or tree hugging.
• Unless you really like 'upcycling' clothes and can do it competently without friends patting you on the head, saying 'Lovely dear' whilst slipping Prozac into your tea, do not buy anything that 'just' needs its sleeves shortening / waist nipping in / collar re-shaped etc. Know your limits and step away: let some other fool seamstress tackle it (or you could get a professional to do it, if you really think it'll be worth it)
• Ponder what an 'upcycle' looks like and whether or not they are easy to ride
• Only buy something that really grabs you: if you think 'It'll do', put it back and move on. Drag some weak-ass understanding of karma into your brain, determining that if it doesn't leap out at you with joy, it is not meant to be and the universe will shun you and that feck-awful drop waisted devore sack you are tempted to buy just because, compared to the racks of beige polyester surrounding it, it looks 'interesting'
• Take your own carrier bags: it's one way to avoid the pinched-lip tut of the volunteers on the tills (carrier bags are like gold, though not as precious as The Decent Coat Hangers)
• Don't laugh and point at something on the rail, screaming 'My feckin eyes!!! What is it?!' I guarantee the person behind you was about to buy it and will now be left to shuffle solemnly out of the shop to re-evaluate not just their taste but whether it is connected to their inherent loneliness within
• Be careful not to buy back your own stuff, unless of course you are doing it for altruistic reasons, or because your minamalist spouse finally cracked and 'donated' it all
• When buying books, check that all the pages are there and in the right order. Then check the blurb to see if it's something you will actually read
• If you are a serial horder, consider the 'one in: one out' rule. The stuff we surround ourselves with should make us smile, not like we're trapped in a never ending ball pit of shoddy crockery, stained paisley and shit
• Do not argue / physically assault fellow treasure hunters over an item, unless the item in question is a brand new pair of Toast trousers, in your size(ish) for, no really, £2, in which case use every ounce of cunning and muscle tissue to get them
• Do not buy something that is not your size (especially important for teacups): you're just setting yourself up for a fall. Buy clothes once you've lost the weight: in the meantime, utilise belts and braces with quiet smugness
  
• Don't haggle! It's a charity shop for feck's sake! Unless your need for a Karen Millen (one button missing) jacket is more important than the cure for cancer, pay the price on the tag, you selfish idiot.

Happy shopping!

Yay! September!

Right: ambassadorial things first -

The autumn issue is out now - go lookie! (and this isn't shameless self-promotion: I didn't contribute to this one.)

I love September: perhaps it's those years in education that always make it feel like the true start of the year. Usually, it's still warm but there's that crispness in the air, that freshness, the lazy low-slung sun casting long shadows through the stained glass leaves, the promise of woodsmoke and the need for cardigans. 

It's also the time for cobweb bling...(sorry; this pic doesn't show it's full majesty thanks to the exuberant glare of the 7am sun, but you get the gist.) 

This does also herald the migration of the spiders into the house, but all four of us are trained in the use of cup and postcard (or flattened cereal packet for the really big muthas) so it's not really a problem.

I've finally started on the task of sorting our house out, starting with the books. The issue of how I sort my books (and cd's, before we sent them on a sabbatical in the loft) has been a source of much amusement, wonder and fear to Mr Yump. I sorted them all into genres: all the fiction together (then alphabetised), all the art books together (ditto), all his animator-nerd books together, music, health, witchcraft etc etc. (ahhh bite me: I work in a bookshop- at least I didn't have face outs...or shelf talkers...or pyramid the books in the bathroom) Still, despite my sad efforts, only I could ever find anything. This time, however, after seeing these in the May 2010 edition of Livingetc

...and then reading about it on Huma Qureshi's blog, I thought I just had to give it a go:

(and, yes: I have put similarly coloured fripperies on each shelf)

The greens and blacks are on a freestanding Ikea Billy shelf (picture to follow), but the bigger black books are on the other side of the chimney breast:

You might also notice the brown and 'natural' coloured books plonked next to the ILM bibles: I guess I should have put the books in the traditional Richard Of York Gave Battle In Vain order, but once I'd thwacked up the whites, I could not be arsed doing it again. I'm sad, but not that sad. They looked rather fab, waiting on the floor;

I have, however, refrained from colour-coding the dvds and games, much to the relief of Hubs. As a system, you may think it makes finding the right book tricky: not at all, as long as you remember what that book looked like! Sprogling #1, famous for not being able to find things gaffa taped to her nose, actually found the book she needed. Result!

Such is the need for colour order that I have matched my glasses to my current read thus:

I love this story: O'Brien paints a picture of rural Ireland that is simultaneously grim and beautiful, brutal yet warm. It is hopeless and optimistic and rather wonderful. It is also, I have decided, the perfect size for a work of fiction: you can take it anywhere without it impinging your slacks (slacks are best unpinged) I was surprised, and worried, because the delicious Bloomsbury Classic editions are still at large in the 2nd hand ether. (well, Amazon) Look at all the gorgeous covers!

What do you do when you have fruit that's a tad unappealling? Thwack it into Google and see what turns up! I found this delicious recipe on a wonderful blog called 'Reluctant Gourmet'. I have doctored it a tad: a little less sugar, using apples I happened to have (probably Braeburn) and used self raising flour with a touch of baking powder as I was bereft of plain. I also baked it for 15 mins less.  However, it created a delicious cake: firm vanilla with soft, cinnamon-soused fruit. It's as if I've baked autumn. As are all my favourite recipes, it's stupid-easy: do it!

Baked Autumn
Cakey Bit:
250ml sunflower (or veg) oil
4 eggs (free range and large)
260g golden caster sugar
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
460g self raising flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
100ml orange juice
Fruity Bit:
2 pears
2 eating apples
4 tablespoons soft brown sugar (or caster)
3 teaspoons ground cinnamon

• Preheat the oven to 180oC / 350oF / Gas 4
• Grease and line a large tin (mine has a 9.5" diameter)
• In a large bowl, beat together the oil, eggs, sugar and vanilla until blended and a festival of creamy beige
• Bless the beigeness with a flurry of sieved flour, baking powder and salt and mix well until you are unaware where the dry stops and the moist begins
• Add the ornage juice into this confused state and mix gently together
• Now prepare for the fruity bit: in another bowl, mix together the sugar and cinnamon
• Peel, core and slice the fruit and pop into the spicy sugar: stir it gently so that every piece is coated
• Pour (or spoon, as you may find the cake mix has turned quite gelatinous) about a third of the mix into your prepared tin
• Top with half of the fruit in an even fashion
• Pop a third of the mix onto the fruity layer like a cakey duvet
• Pop the remaining fruit onto the duvet like scatter cushions
• Deciding that it looks like a cold night ahead, pop a final duvet layer of cake mix onto the sleeping cushions
• Bake for 1-1hr 15mins until it's firm, golden brown and produces a clean skewer when stabbed in the traditional baking fashion (rather than the rather strenuous 'Psycho' motion: unless you need to slice it quickly for a party or such is like.)
• Allow to cool for about 10 or so minutes before popping onto a cooling rack.

 Laters x

A few of my favourite things

Here's a recipe for a happy yump:

Clockwise from bottom right:

• I'm drawn to this shade of yellow like a magnet to the fridge. I just find it comforting, not joyous: it's warm and gentle, wise perhaps. It does, however, make me talk bollocks - ho hum. The yarn I'm using is specifically designed for felting (I'll let you know if it works) and the beautiful pattern book is from the bargain bucket at C&H Fabrics. It's a beautiful book, even if I don't use any of the other patterns. Eye candy is underestimated and should be devoured as often as possible.
• After losing my first ever knitted hat, and feeling despondent from knitting never-ending fingerless gloves with 4-ply, I resolved to knit a new hat with chunky-as-you-like Big Softie yarn. I started whilst beginning the week cheerfully with a new english 'Wallander' with the wonderful Kenneth Branagh (but do try and catch the original Swedish version, often on BBC4, which I think is marginally better, though both reduce the current crop of televisular dirge to mere cataracts) and finished the following afternoon: this instant yarn gratification was just what I needed. However, I over-estimated the girth of my head, or at least the length of it, but luckily my finishing was neat enough to allow for a turned brim. And it was just in time for all the snow. I am still ploughing on with the mittens and may have them finished by Xmas, when I will probably burn them in a ritual sacrifice to the Goddess of Craft, asking Her for patience and fatter yarns in future. The pattern is from 'Stitch and Bitch' by the way, should you wish to while away the hours whilst watching Swedish drama of the greyist, weightiest yet atmospherically sumptuous variety.
• The land of my dreams is Paris at the mo, and if anyone would like to buy me this apartment, I would be most grateful and would even send you cake. I am feeding this daydream with a daily munch from the delicious visual buffet of 'Paris: Made by Hand' by Pia Jane Bijkerk (who has a rather beautiful blog too.), a delicious collection of 'the city's artisans, createurs, and craft boutiques'. If you are going to Paris, physically or in your mind, I whole heartedly recommend it: it's small enough not to be cumbersome and should lead you into dark spaces of illuminated joy that you wouldn't have bothered with before. If you are going, could you bring me back anything from this amazing shop please? Merci!
• I am currently addicted to the BBC digital station, 6music. Facebook chums will already be aware of my regular spamming of their status update pages with yet another gem they must listen to that I've just heard via 6music. The DJ's are irreverant, intelligent and clearly love the music they play. Here they are allowed to be as geeky as they want, encouraging their listeners to do the same, creative a music nerd safe-haven. They also tap into the stunning BBC archives to play long forgotten Peel sessions and a variety of music royalty live sets. Particular favourite DJ's are Adam & Joe (of coursee, Tom Robinson's eclectic ear, new boy Jarvis Cocker (a perfect mix of music and literature, tied together with a ribbon of Cocker wit), Huey Morgan (who, along with JC, turns Sunday into a joyous day full of interest rather than the grey day before the week starts again) and Lauren Laverne, keeping me company during the morning. To me, it's bliss.
  
• I have a new guru and her name is Lynne Truss. If you haven't read any of her funny and informative books, may I urge you too. They won't take you long as the typeface is huge. Make sure you are sitting properly as you may develop a neck twinge with all the nodding in agreement as you read. She just speaks common sense and if more people read 'Talk to the Hand', perhaps we can all remember to be a tad more civil to each other, as a little consideration towards others really oils the wheels of our day to day world. However, do not do as I did and read 'Eats Shoots and Leaves' at the same time as John Updike: it took all my strength not to start adding commas, apostrophes and colons of every flavour to his book.
• Finally, baking. These biccies remind me of the ones my old school cooks' would occasionally treat us to, instead of the uninspiring jelly whip or tedious selection of starchy yogurts for most days Dpuddings. These biccies are both crunchy and chewy, with a delicious gingery, toffee flavour (courtesy of the Golden Syrup) Here, size matters: you won't achieve the same amount of comfort nostalgia with a small packet-sized biscuit. The recipe comes courtesy of Jeanette Orrey, the woman who inspired Jamie Oliver to help overhaul school lunch nutrition. I've omitted the chocolate from her recipe, but feel free to add 60g of chopped choc if you wish. The measurements are slightly different as I received a rather gorgeous set of scales for my birthday that measure in increments of 20g, making weighing 55g an impossibility. From my limited experience, I've found that baking is down to ratios: alter all weights in the same way and you should be ok.
  

School biccies.
(makes 8)

180g plain flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
60g oats
120g butter (or marg)
120g demerera sugar (or caster, light brown or a mix)
1 heaped tablespoon golden syrup
drop or two of milk

• preheat the oven to 180oC / 350oF / Gas Mark 4
• line two large baking trays with baking paper or the non-stick parchment-equivalent of your choice
  
• mix together the flour, baking powder and oats in a big bowl
• rub in the butter to create a breadcrumby melange
• add the sugar (and choc if using) and golden syrup and stir to create a stiff dough. You may need to add a drop or two (or three) of milk to bind it all together.
• divide the dough into eight equal portions. Roll each portion into a ball, place on baking sheet and flatten sensitively with your hand, allowing room for the biccie to grow.
• bake for 20-25 mins until pale brown and cracked of surface (they should look like mahoosive gingernuts)
• allow to cool on the sheets before transferring to cooling racks
• enjoy with tea and the knowledge that your school days are long behind you.

What are your favourite things at the mo?

PS: I'm having a clearance sale!!! Please come by and pick up a bargain before I hire a flame thrower and destroy the lot in a hormonal frenzy.

Dahl-ling bread

I am trying very hard at the moment to temper my cookery book purchasing, in particular books on baking. I have discovered that a lot of the more celebrity-type chefs have a tendency towards repeating their recipes, justifying their inclusion in yet another perfectly produced more-style-than-food, 'buy this and you can live like me, and my life is FABULOUS!' book simply by altering the amount of vanilla, or swapping the flour or changing the icing to a frosting. With that in mind, and considering the hefty price tag on a lot of titles, it's worth remembering your trusty local library. I find it's a great way to try out a book for free: this works for crafting books as well. It is often easy to be seduced into thinking that you absolutely, positively have to have that book, but it is better to spend your hard earned cash on something that you'll have use for for years to come. Also, you need to save your cash in order to buy the ingredients / yarn / gluegun / studio as suggested in your newly-acquired piece of inspiration.

One of the books I'd seen at work, but wasn't sure I agreed with, was Sophie Dahl's book, 'Miss Dahl's Voluptuous Delights: The Art of Eating a Little of What You Fancy'. The reason I didn't 'agree' with it was down to cookery / lifestyle book saturation: there is a growing trend for cookbooks to be just as much about the author as the food. I'm sure she wasn't the first, but Tessa Kiros, with her glorious 'Falling Cloudberries', with its mix of biography, family history, culture, tradition and food, possibly inspired others to follow,  (and of course dear ol' Nigella can't resist a lustful pout over a robust dish of freshly-concocted edible sex between her recipes, despite her first and utterly fabulous book, 'How to Eat'  being completely devoid of any author posturing, aside from the 'I'm actually a serious writer but I can cook too' one on the inner cover.) As with any good idea, a raft of similar titles have followed, to the point of olive oil-based marination, hence me giving Miss Dahl's perfectly beautiful, perfectly stylish book a wide berth. That was until I came across a surprise copy at my local library...

It is indeed a beautiful book, with 101 recipes handily divided by the seasons and then again into breakfasts, lunches and suppers. Each season is heralded with autobiography, illustrating the author's emotional link, love and respect of food. She talks candidly about the weight gain that led to her initial fame (as a model with, shock horror! Squidgy-bits-like-what-real-women-have! She was all of a size 14 at her largest...) and then how she lost weight, (by the way, this isn't a diet book, as I clearly wouldn't have bothered with it) and also morsels about her life growing up, travelling and working. She has an lovely relaxed style, the type of prose you fall into, and of course having an interesting life so far helps too. As for the recipes, accompanied by calm, almost rustic photos, they are simple, practical and look positively eatable, a trait you would assume was a given in a cookery book but sadly isn't necessarily. A particular favourite that I've made a few times now (with the book a good distance away so as not to become soiled by my exuberant baking activities) is what we call in this house 'Jamie Cullum Bread', but Miss Dahl calls 'Musician's breakfast (home-made bread with Parma Ham). For the uninitiated amongst you, Sophie Dahl's 'beloved' is Jamie Cullum and, according to the recipe, 

'This, a strong cup of tea and Miles Davis on the stereo makes him a very happy fellow of a morning.'

I had a flash of Domestic Goddessy Madness the other morning and went all 'lifestyle' myself by making my own Jamie Cullum bread whilst the rest of the family got up properly, that is, shuffling through the morning ritual of wee, tea then food (and not in joined up writing: mornings are strictly printed in this house: we are not a morning family) 
Sadly, it wasn't ready before they all left the house, but I somehow managed not to snaffle down the whole loaf, leaving them some for their return. Yes, that is how much I love them.*dabs at tear with corner of pinny*

'This, a pint cup of coffee and 6Music on the stereo makes me a very happy fellow of a morning.'

As much as I love this bread, I fancied something with a bit more texture, so when I made a loaf today (out of hunger and the need to create: when all the tastiest things are born), I added a variety of seeds. Not only had I managed to gild the lily, I also made it healthier too, though its health benefits are possibly undone by my 'voluptuous' portions. So here is my recipe, based on Miss Dahl's. Give it a go, with or without the seeds, and do check out her book too - I have it on my wishlist as I suppose I should stop renewing this copy...

Who(l)em(eal)y seedy beeyatch, yo.*

450g wholemeal flour (either normal or bread flour: both work)

100g oats

packet of fast-action dried yeast

1 tsp salt (I used Maldon)

25g hemp seeds

50g sunflower seeds

50g pumpkin seeds
600ml warm (not hot) water
1 tbsp sunflower oil

1 tbsp clear honey

• Mix all of the dry ingredients together in a large mixing bowl, nay flexi trug should the whim take you (damn they're such a versatile beast!)

• In a large jug, mix together the water, oil and honey.

• Add wet to the dry and stir thoroughly.

• Look at the porridgey gloop and think to yourself, 'How the hell am I going to knead that gelatinous blob?!'

• Exclaim 'Ahhhh!' when you read: 'This bread does not need kneading.'

• Cover the bowl with a clean cloth and place somewhere warm and out of the way (i.e. next to a sleeping relative answers only half of the problem, so don't put it there.) for about 20, 30, heck, perhaps as much as 40 minutes, until the dough has doubled in size (hence the need for the large bowl. You see?! It's all in the planning!)

• Preheat the oven to 190oC / 170oF.
  

• Once risen, do not mark the occassion by bastardising a Pagan tradition and eating your bodyweight in chocolate, but merely beat it back down to size with a wooden spoon.

• Oil a loaf tin and pour the subjugated dough within its oily confines.

• Pop in the oven and bake for 50-60 mins.

• Allow to cool in the tin before turning it out and anointing each slice with a hearty slather of what you fancy.
  

My slather of choice is butter.

*there is a loaf we often buy called a 'seeded batch' that we call a 'seedy beeyatch'. 

I guess you had to be there... 

**Mum: I'm working on my punctuation: look what book I got last weekend!(though clearly I haven't read it yet...)

Varium et mutabile semper femina*

I stomped off into town this afternoon, carrying a hormonal cloud of rage, unreasoneableness and general 'don't come near me'-ness,  despite the cheery hot and lazily low-slung sun, the delicious warmth accompanied by a gentle cool breeze (just to remind us that it is, after all, Autumn) as I had to get out of the house and pick up a couple of meaningless things, oh and chocolate, which could and should never be seen as pointless.
Anyhoots, whilst angrily skipping the load of crap my iPod in it's wisdom had decided I should listen to, I passed a local bookshop. Now this bookshop has fallen on hard times, which is a real shame because (she whispers so as not to upset her bosses) we need our bookshops, particularly our free-thinking independents. Certain elements were always a bit ramshackle, but that was part of its charm. It was pretty astounding the variety that they managed to shoehorn into such a small space. I never minded hunting for books in that place, but frequently had to bite my tongue when I couldn't find books that I personally deemed as 'classics'. (you would have thought, as a fellow bookseller, I'd have been more patient: Hell no!) Now, however, it is a shop preparing to die and getting its' affairs in order. The last pieces of stock are now alongside out of print/ end of stock items, uncorrected proofs, creased and yellow around the edges and an incredibly eclectic collection of second hand books. Despite this seemingly depressing end, what they have actually created is an amazing haven of the printed word. The sections still remain so its easy to rummage, but it is completely anti-ageist: brand new books sharing the same selling space as old duffers from the turn of the last century. And I found some gems that dispelled my foul mood quicker than you can say 'I really should start taking Evening Primrose again.' Look!

from left to right: Julia Cameron, 'The Right to Write' (publ: , Ronald Searle 'Back to the Slaughterhouse' (1951),  'Roget's Pocket Thesaurus' (1946, US ed)

'The Right to Write' is a book by the author of 'The Artist's Way', Julia Cameron, and according to the blurb, is about 'using writing to bring clarity and passion to the act of living.' Hmmm, sounds good - I like her thinking. I also liked the fact that it's broken up into teeny chapters that may help my easily-distracted brain to focus. I also loved this exercise, where the reader needs to list 50 things that they're proud of, and that in her example, 'My rapport with dogs' came higher than 'My relationship with my mother', although 'My pie crust' was an ever prouder moment! Genius! I may share my 50 things with you once I know you a little better.

Next up is actually the first book that I found today. Some of you may remember  that I've mentioned Ronald Searle before and therefore know that I think he is utterly tremendous. (and it's not just me that thinks as thus: looky!) Perhaps with that knowledge elbamed in your brain, you may have an idea of the joy that was beholden to me when I saw, faced out on the second set of shelves, this:

You can find a selection of the pages here.

Its a wonderful book, containing enough pictures that I hadn't seen before to make it worth me popping in the shop in the first place.

I loved the back too, with a rather wonderful self-portrait:

 

And lo: how fab is it without its dustjacket!

 

Gotta love a gymslip!

I've recently been meaning to find a small thesaurus to pop in my bag, for those times when I just can't find either the right, or at least vaguely more interesting word. The God of the Bookshop heeded my call and sent, all the way from the U.S, and the distant past, a beautiful (beauteous, handsome; pretty: lovely, graceful, elegant, exquisite, delicate, dainty) Roget's Thesaurus (lexicon, glossary, vocabulary, wordbook:  bored yet?! I can keep this up for hours!) As it's from the US, I'll have to keep an eye on the spelling (orthography) but other than that, I think it'll prove to be quite an inspiration (stir up, infuse life into, quicken, sharpen, revive) Besides all that, I think in this instance, it is only right that I should judge a book by its' cover and the perfectly preserved endpapers:

593. BOOK.- N. book, booklet; writing, work, volume, tome, tract, treatise, brochure......

I also found, but didn't buy, a book on living in Hampstead from the 50's, worth it for the line on the cover saying that the book would be suitable in a guest room or coffee table (or was it 'occasional' table? Or bedside table?) I think more books should give suggestions as to where they would best be stored: "Keep in the fridge during breaks between reading", "Must not be read on an infant's swing", "Warning: will explode if exposed to synthetic upholstery" etc.

May you derive as much hormonal-balancing pleasure from your books as I have!

*Varium et mutabile semper femina - according to my new / old thesaurus, it means 'Woman is ever a changeful and capricious thing.' Amen.

Sporadic book adoration

Just wanted to pop in to tell you about some of the books that have grabbed my attention, made it tea and found a comfy chair (with optional snuggly blanket drapage) I think the only similarities between them are that they are printed onto paper and that you need to use your eyes to decipher the meanings therein, such is the erraticism of my tastes.

• Firstly, a collection of  three autobiographies by the late jazzman / raconteur / writer / bon viveur, George Melly, 'Owning Up'.  I adored this trilogy, which features his first three autobiographies in chronological (rather than published) order: Scouse Mouse (pub 1984), Rum, Bum and Concertina (1977) and Owning Up (1965). His honesty (or, at least his skill for spinning a damn fine yarn) is certainly admirable and often breathtaking, and provides a snapshot of his life with a crisp, fresh clarity. Of all the books, I enjoyed 'Owning Up' the least, which is not to suggest that it was necessarily the weaker of the three, just that perhaps someone that appreciates Melly's particular milieu of jazz more than I would enjoy it even more.

He has a delicious turn of phrase that I found delightful:

"It would be absurd not to admit to the obsessive spirit in my remembering so minutely the contents and decoration of an unremarkable terrace house some fifty years ago, but I have always tended to understand people initially through the objects they accumulate and the manner in which they display or conceal them."

What really struck me was the author's absolute lust for life, twinned with the ability to look back without regret, making this book both inspiring and thoroughly entertaining. I'm looking forward to reading the final instalment, 'Slowing Down' to learn just how to milk every last drop from the flagon of life. Have a lil Boogie Woogie on his behalf!

• Next up, a wonderful debut from Jane Elmor, 'My Vintage Summer'. This has two stories running alternately, one from the narrator's descent into teenage awakening and one from the present day, her life full of creature comforts but hollow inside. The two stories have as their central theme the adoration, worship and, ultimately, understanding of an older girl, Vonnie, and how Lizzie (the narrator) reacts to her defiant, magnetic  prescence. Whilst the detail certainly evokes life in the late 70' / early 80's, it isn't a syrupy nostalgia fest, and explores themes of family, friendship, marriage and music with an understanding touch that will be familiar and illuminating at the same time. It made me think of the best bits of 'Flashbacks of a Fool' in its attention to detail that seemed accurate rather than sepia-tinted longing, although I had far more empathy and warmth to the central character Lizzie than I did for Flashbacks' Joe Scott.I loved it and look forward to reading her most recent book. (you might also enjoy this interview.)

• From the Cor Blimey, to the sublime and now onto the, umm, well, something different. Now, buying a book on thrift may seem to be a non-sequitur, but often it can be a case of 'speculating to accumulate'. I'm not entirely convinced by India Knight's concept of 'Thrift', but, if you consider it as a companion to the wonderful, often unashamedly glam 'The Shops', you shouldn't be disappointed. 'The Thrift Book' has a lovely section celebrating the current craft revolution (that is sadly rumbling over my head like a giant wave at the mo, rather than me harnessing its energy and riding a body board whilst laughing like a deranged hyena, but that's a whole other story for a whole other time...), in particular Etsy and the joy therein. This book is less about how to live cheaply, basically and beautifully, and more about 'If you have to spend money, you might as while spend a bit more on something decent', an idea I agree with on principle, but sometimes you just don't have the choice and have to make the most of what you have. I think the section on 'Camping' made me realise, once more, that Ms Knight and I move in very different circles: she recommends a Feather Down Farms holiday, I recommend you bag a tent of ebay (I recommend Outwell tents) or borrow one from a friend: we camped near Land's End, in the middle of August, for £16 a night for a family of four. That, my friend, is thrift. 

• Whilst on said thrifty holiday, I devoured the first in Henning Mankell's 'Wallander' series, 'Faceless Killers'. This is the first crime book and I loved it. Admittedly, I was eased in into them through my adoration of both the english and swedish tv adaptations, and found that the books gave another dimension to an already interestingly complex character. Actually, is Kurt Wallander a complex character, or is he infact torn between duty to job and family, resulting in a man desperate to find a balance but failing miserably? I think he's a fascinating chararcter: you really feel for the poor sod, whilst simultaneously wishing he wasn't quite so his own worst enemy. But then, it wouldn't make such a delicious story. Wallander is called out to a horrific and seemingly motiveless murder whilst his private life is still in turmoil after a recent divorce. As layers are gradually peeled away, racism is revealed and Wallander must find the facts underneath the mask of fear. Its seemingly slowpace is misleading as, before you know it, you'll have read 10 pages without breathing.

I also loved my own juxtaposition, reading this dark, bleak tale set in wintry Sweden whilst sitting on a beautiful warm, sunny Cornish beach in the middle of August. There is a greyness that I find utterly absorbing and I can't wait to read the next book, 'The Dogs of Riga'.

What are you reading?

(ps: apologies for the bizarre layout: it wouldn't let me leave a space between books, thus creating a large bed of words that would have put me off, at least: Grrrr!)

Stuff and nonsense

First things first: this Sunday, the 22nd June, a group of fabulously talented makers are getting together near Convent Garden to unleash their creative produce to the world. Its called WeMake, and you need to be there, armed with money and hungry for gorgeousness. You can find out about it on their blog here.
I'm going up to support rather than have a stall. If you see me, do come and say hello and drag me for coffee and cake, not that I'll need much persuading if there are refreshments involved.

Speaking of cake, I've been a bit of a Domestic Goddess recently, if I do say so myself, thanks largely to this fantabulous cookbook. Here's an example of the joy that book can bring:

the ones with purple splodges are cherry (use frozen cherries for ease and welcoming moistness), yogurt and oat and the others are spiced apple and walnut.

The book is wondrous: the recipes are easy to follow, the combinations of flavours are tasty and not outlandish and the results are consistent. Its the kind of book people buy firstly for themselves, and then come back and buy many for friends and family. Its so good, my best mate KT had it sent over from Hastings to her new home in New Zealand as she missed it so.

On the crafting front, sometimes it pays to rethink and re-do a project. I had made some fabric hearts, stuffed with polyfil, as general decorative fripperies. They sat, unloved in my shop, until I suddenly saw the obvious need and re-stuffed them with some calming lavender. I very quickly sold two! Hurrah! I have some more: you need them, your socks need them, let alone your pants. They're in the shop now! (I keep them in a tupperware-style box, determined to keep the freshness in) They're kinda cute, just this side of Cath Kidston, and quite normal for me!



I was recently commissioned by a chum at work to make something for his girlfriend's birthday. She loves lemurs and he wanted to give her a pouch (zip up purse / make-up / oddment bag) that lovingly empathised with her love of this Madagascan inhabitant.
So, after some preliminary sketches


I came up with this:


He loved it but more importantly, so did she. Even more importantly, it started a chain reaction which linked in with some ideas I'd had in my sketchbook:


and these lead to the creation of these beauties:

top left (sold): "aint nowt wrong with my girlie crap", top right: "aint nowt wrong with loving cake", bottom left: "tea, coffee, wine and beer - its all good" and bottom right: "aint nowt wrong with loving a chicken"

All this creativity needs replenishing, and at times like this, despite her teeth-itching (cheers Maose for that phrase!) tv performances, Nigella shines through. I adapted her recipe for 'Old Fashioned Chocolate Cake', found in the 'Chocolate Hall of Fame' to be found in the beautiful 'Feast'. She suggests '175g best quality dark chocolate', I suggest Lidl's milk chocolate, 29p for 100g.

Its all good.

Quick round up of my recent reads:

Alice Hoffman 'The Third Angel'. I thoroughly enjoyed this story. We start off with one character, then layers are peeled back to reveal a complex story of intertwining characters, linked in ways that none of them are aware of. The characters on the periphery are far more absorbing than the perceived central character, but discovering the warp and weft (eeh! That textile degree wasn't a waste, Mum!) of their stories is ultimately very satisfying. The settings, both physical and in time, are beautifully evocative, but then I'm a sucker for anything set in the 50's and 60's: if its well written, I see it in black and white, in a cloud of innocence and cigarette smoke. I'd love to know what you think.

Nora Ephron 'I Feel Bad About My Neck'. I would recommend this for any woman over 30, and certainly for women over 50. As a 36 year old woman, I want to know that there is life, and it is fun, and it is positive, as I get older. Would-be role models fall prey to plastic surgery and the ridiculous concept that a youthful face is wrinkle free and immobile. As the mother of a rather beautiful teenager, let me remind you that a youthful face is incredibly animated and full of wonder, however much they try and mask it with an air of boredom and cynicism- wrinkles make not a jot of difference. Any hoots, this is a smart, sassy perceptive and honest read, as you'd expect from the writer of 'When Harry met Sally'. It oozes positivity, not in a hippy drippy Louise L Hay kind-of-a-way, but in a beautiful, down-to-earth way. If you've ever had ovaries, or you've ever met someone who has, read it.

Meg Wolitzer 'The Ten Year Nap'. I loved this book deeply. Certain lines in this book were written just for me and me alone I am sure. The woman has opened up my brain, assessed how I feel about being a woman, wife, mother, human, and peppered her story with nuggets of wisdom to remind me that I'm doing ok and that I should stop beating myself up all the time for not being all that I should be. If you're a mother, read this. If you think that one day, you'll have children, read this, because anyone who tells you your life won't change when you have children is lying! The story centres around one character, Amy, then pans out to encompass all her friends. Each has a different take on the notion of motherhood and how it has affected them. I love the idea of 'The Ten-Year Nap': women all over the world are suddenly woken up by the growing independence of their offspring, revealing the woman that was there before ante-natal checks, urine samples and more internal examinations than are strictly necessary: 'Oh shit! I'm still here: a whole lot wider, a little wiser, but I still have my sense of humour and, despite an appalling recall for names, my brain still seems to be working...So what now?!'

On a completely different tangent, I'm currently reading George Melly's autobiographical trilogy and also this anthology of Dave Allen, and am thoroughly enjoying them both. (you can 'hear' them narrate: it is impossible to read without hearing their particular vocal inflections.) I'll let you know how me and the boys get on!


PS: thanks, hugs and the promise of cake to Bee and Maose for their nagging: I'll try and blog more, but, if you enjoy the read, feel free to nag more! :-)

While my mojo gently sleeps

Things have not been to good for me on the creative front of late: nothing major, I just seem to have misplaced my creative juices. Hopefully, they haven't evaporated but have concentrated into a thickly aromatic jus that just needs water added at a later date to reactivate the crafty goodness (I've been reading far too many cookbooks; can you tell?!) Thats why I haven't been blogging or going into the Etsy forums as I have nothing new to show you, no new WIP's, and I feel like a bit of a fraud. But I have some ideas bubbling away that have started my brain cells ticking, so watch this space. Its been school hols over the last 2 weeks, so I'm hoping to get stuck in to some creative shenanigans next week. I can't remember if I'd mentioned this before, (apologies if I have: go and put the kettle on and I'll try to be brief) but my 'studio' is the kitchen in our teeny Edwardian (Victorian?) mid terrace cottage. Its a busy room, full of baking, music, chat, homework and never-ending washing up. Its hard to sustain a creative flow here whilst looking after a family and I get very frustrated. Hopefully, we'll be able to move and yumptatious can have its own space. (If you would like to buy a beautiful, 2-bed house in Tonbridge, do let me know!)

But I have been reading....
I've spoken about the possible perks of working in a bookshop before, but failed to mention this extremely generous gift from Ian McEwan to all Waterstone's employees:

The inscription on the inside reads,

'Congratulations to all at Waterstone's for a quarter of a century of brilliant service to readers'

To be honest, I didn't instantly jump at the chance to devour this book: I had tried, unsuccesfully to read 'Atonement' but could not get into it. I think I gave up when I got to the point where the young girl gazes in wonderment at her hand...for a whole page... I just kept thinking, 'I could be dead tomorrow and am wasting these precious moments that I will never get back, over a book I feel I should read but has failed to engage me on any level'. I will give it another go at some point, but from chatting to others, I think he is an author that strongly divides readers. The last time I saw such strength of feeling was over 'One Hundred Years of Solitude', a book you either adore with a passion usually reserved for George Clooney, Daniel Craig or Green and Blacks chocolate, or hate it, with an equally strong passion usually reserved for Anthea Turner, Avid Merrion or Brussel Sprouts. I hated the book and hurled it across the room with venomous aplomb when I finished it.
However, I read a review of 'On Chesil Beach' that roused my interest and so pulled it off the shelves, blew off the dust, removed it from its protective case, spending an unnaturally long time appreciating the chocolate edging of the pages, the burnt bronze embossed seagulls and lettering, and started to read.
It's a beautiful story, at times hilarious in its detailing of post-war embarrassment and social expectations. The characters are both engaging and angrily frustrating at the same time and in this instance, McEwan's eye for detail is enlightening, not stifling. If you are sweet enough to presently be thinking of holding onto your virginity until your wedding night (as if anyone with such morals would read my diatribe!) please read this first! If, like me, you married in black and thus had a carefree honeymoon, read this and feel smug in your sluttish wisdom! Just read this book: its very short, like a concentrated jus!
And thus, the posting circle is complete!

ps. what books would you recommend?


Now playing: Radiohead - Jigsaw Falling Into Place
via FoxyTunes

World Book Day

To celebrate World Book Day, I thought I would share with you some of my favourite books.
Thanks to my lil job in a bookshop, (with its 33% discount, uncorrected proofs and free damaged books) I often come home with more paper goodness than we can safely fit in our teeny house.

There's the main bookshelf,

though its not normally this neat.

There's the floor in the lounge,

cook books in a kitchen cupboard,

kids books all around their bedroom

these are books for 9 years and up

and these are the picture books (don't worry: its a very sturdy shelf)

and at my bedside.

When I need a laugh, I go to this book:

I know he hasn't done a funny film for ages, but this book makes tears of joy and mirth cascade down my plump laughing cheeks.

When I want comfort, I go to this book, a favourite as a child:

'Meal One' by Ivor Cutler, illustrations by the completely marvellous Helen Oxenbury. It is a safe bet to buy any books with her illustrations and I heartily recommend that you do so.

This is a superb book that powerfully conveys the parallels of black American boxers and the fight for black civil rights in the late 50's / early 60's. I'm rather partial to a good boxing match and consider Muhammad Ali as a bit of a god, so come and join the Rumble in the Jungle with me.

Here are my favourite self help books:

'Round Ireland with a Fridge' reminds me that anything is possible, as long as its part of a drunken bet, 'Yes Man' reminds me to take a chance now and then (yet reminds me that a bit of caution can also be a good thing), 'Oh the Places You'll Go!' reminds me that life is an everchanging journey, full of highs and lows, and strange blue houses, and 'Liberation' does exactly what it says on the tin: 'the perfect holistic antidote to stress, depression and other unhealthy states of mind'. Plus, I have a bit of a crush on the good Doc...

This is how I want to live.

I would love to fall into this book and live beautifully with the lovely beautiful people in sepia-land. Lets go camping! (this is how I see the often-talked-about UK Etsy Craft Commune looking)

I would also love to fall into this book,

This is a fabulously evocative account of the groovy side of London during the swinging sixties. Oh to visit the Indica bookshop! I keep meaning to dig out a published copy of this book (this is an uncorrected proof, so it has none of its final illustrations.) Mind you, it is written clearly enough that the words provide very clear pictures in themselves.

My favourite book on fashion:

Despite loving Robert Elms' radio show on BBC London, this book didn't really scream at me as something I had to read: mmm, men's fashion....zzzzzzzz. But when I found a damaged copy at work going for free (there's a rip on the front cover: that's all) I gave it a go and fell quickly and deeply in love. The man's love and respect for clothes is infectious, the way he remembers tiny little details and why those details were so important.

This was my Dad's which I stole from him years ago. (you know the way teenagers do, when they believe that their parents, living only in order to look after their offspring, relinquish any property rights on their possessions: 'What's yours is mine and can I have a tenner?') I have memorised every line and shade, every nuance of pen stroke, so perhaps I can give it back... in a few years time...

and this gem is from Ronald Searle's truly dark and deranged, and utterly wonderful, St Trinians. (please erase all memory of the recent film):

'I'll just die and then you'll be sorry.'
Awww, bless!


Happy World Book Day people!


(I'm reading this, written by her)