The last week has been a bit manic in my camp (not that I'm surprised), but I have managed to squeeze some nice things in between the madness, including a trip to my favourite charity/junk shop.
A few years ago, my parents suggested that I follow the family tradition of choosing a set of posh china to be gifted to me, in installments, on important milestone occasions (birthdays, wedding etc). I looked at nearly every pattern going, but couldn't find anything that I liked. There was no magic or romance to them and there was certainly no story behind them.
So, I set out to create my own, completely unique set of mismatched china. I love the idea that each piece has lived in a different house with different owners and it makes me so happy to think that these once-loved little pieces of china, though thrown away, will now be loved by me!
I have been collecting for roughly four years now. I just keep an eye out for things any time I visit a charity/junk/antiques shop.
I bought these two plates at the weekend for a grand total of 60p! Amazing. Actually, it was very exciting as the hardest pieces to come by are side plates. Cups and saucers are easy (although not as much as they used to be -I think they are becoming quite fashionable) and serving plates pop up quite regularly, but side plates are really hard to find. I'm not sure I'll ever know why.
The pistachio green serving plate is my favourite. It looks so plain in some lights, but at the right angle it has this amazing star-like pattern in the middle. I can't wait to bake some cakes to serve on it. Sometime, I will get a picture of some of the other pieces up for you to see the full effect.
I am not convinced that anything that has happened to me over the past couple of days is of any interest to anyone but me. I have largely spent my time reading scientific papers and drawing diagrams for my dissertation. I can't imagine that anyone else is even remotely interested in any of that, so I have decided to show you some pictures of my new bed instead.
This is the first major thing that I have ever truly owned and it is the first thing that the boy and I have bought for our house. It is all very grown-up and exciting and isn't it pretty? The trunk behind is a project for the future; an old travelling trunk that belonged to the boy's grandfather. Once I am free of el dissertationo, I am going to restore the lining so that we can use it for storing our bed-linen.
It really is the most beautiful bed. I particularly love the sultry shadows it casts on the wall.
All this talk of the new bed has made me long to curl up in it, so I shall sign off for now and think of something really exciting to tell you, next time.
Those of you who know me, will know that I am one of those people who likes to take on a lot at once. Perhaps it is a fear of being bored or perhaps it is an inability to turn down anything that excites me for fear of missing out. Whatever the reason, this propensity for being busy means that I am often seen running around like a headless chicken (a saying that I have loved since I was a little girl and one which has taken on a much more graphic meaning after several trips to rural India). 2011 is due to be the most headless one yet.
On the eve of the new year, I was excitedly preparing for a rush of productivity and the turning-over of several new leaves, when I was suddenly struck down with a rather crippling case of flu. The exact same flu that I had been mercilessly calling 'Man-flu' whilst my poor, suffering father languished in bed dreaming of a sympathetic daughter.
During the subsequent few days in which I was the one stuck in bed, I thought a lot about my plans for the year and my mind started to boggle slightly (a much underused phrase). I have thousands of thoughts whizzing round my head at the best of times, but what with a dissertation and a third of a textbook to write, not to mention the entire score for Mozart's Requiem to learn in six weeks, I think my mind might need a bit of an outlet. Too old to have a secret diary with a pink key and rather too young to write memoirs on an antique typewriter (although that might be fun), I settled on the idea of writing a blog. It is difficult to know at this stage whether I have anything going on in my life that is worth reading about, but we shall see.