…waiting to be rescued.
This time from nearly two days with out the internet. (Which died, mid post, swallowing it on the way) Still, Superman did his stuff, from the middle of the North Sea, and I’m back. Now I’ve just got to remember what I was doing. June’s been a bit of a washout on Planet Penny…
It may be quite a way south of Norfolk, but Normandy seems to enjoy much the same weather as we do in Norfolk, so while the garden at home was getting nicely soaked after a long dry spell we were enjoying torential downpours and thunderstorms too. In fact, after a frantic trip outside to deal with a blocked downpipe which threatened to divert the entire deluge in through the conservatory roof rather than into the drain, Tom and Tim looked like extras from a Hornblower movie.
So, on our last day, it was entirely apt to head off to the coast to look for seasick sailors. I was determined to do this having read Thomas’ blog post here, and wasn’t going to let a bit of rain put us off.
Normandy is beautiful, and full of contrasts. High plateaus of fields and agriculture, and beautiful green valleys, leafy lanes and timbered houses. Hard to appreciate though through the steamed up windows of the car.
Our destination was a cliff top church at Varengeville sur Mer, the burial place of, among others of the artistic and literary elite, George Braque a contemporary of Picasso.
I was looking forward to seeing the inside of the church, which Thomas had described as being lit by the sun through the beautiful stained glass windows, but when I stood in the doorway on this dark and dismal day I might as well have been standing at the mouth of a cave. Below me all I could see was the Madonna lit by candles.
This was another time to be grateful for my camera, as I could actually see more on the display than in reality.
Here was the pillar I’d heard so much about…
That poor sea sick sailor…
and the woman of his dreams, the mermaid.
Outside in the church yard I was fascinated by the enormous tombs, so different from our grassy English churchyards, and the amazing china flowers decorating some of them.
Moss had added a new dimension to this one…
Monet had seen the church rather differently…
So it would be nice to go back one day in the sunshine.
I missed out on the garden designed by Gertrude Jekyll at Bois de Moutier, because of the rain. I could have happily wandered round with the trees dripping down my neck, but my companions had only just got over their soaking from the night before and obviously thought I was mad.
Back in the car, the windows even more steamed up because of our wet coats we retraced our steps back to the village where my daughter-in-law has promised me a shop I would like.
How well she knows me! The photographs I took inside are rubbish, I’m embarrassed to show them. I was far too excited about everything I could see, and I can never get over the feeling that someone is going to think I’m some sort of spy and get cross. (I know lots of other bloggers take pictures in shops. How do you get round this? What do you say ?Please let me know)
It’s a cliche to say it was like an Aladdin’s Cave. There were beads, barrels of beads and shells and little tin dishes to collect them in. Bundles of brightly colour ribbons hung from the ceiling and draped across the shelves. A huge rack of turned wooden bobbins were wound with Liberty print bindings. Baskets of trimmings and printed tapes. Necklaces and bracelets made from metal charms and glass beads. Bolts of linen, natural and dyed, striped and checks. Bales of flowery Liberty prints, baskets of fat quarters for patchwork, embroidery silks and cottons. And for those who wanted to by things readymade two rooms filled with table linens and teatowels, crafts and soaps and…and…
I usually leave these shops empty handed, overwhelmed by the choice and completely unable to make up my mind. With a supreme effort, and with the image of husband and son losing the will to life out of the corner of my eye, I chose a few little pieces.
This ribbon, blue like the flower of the linen…
Tape, perfect for Planet Penny…
Pretty, pretty flowery binding…
and a fat quarter of ballerinas.
Alas, no website, but if you happen to be 9 kilometres from Dieppe in Varengeville call in, I promise you, you’ll love it.
(I don't know who to credit for this, but it says it all!)
…than to try and tackle ANY TECHY STUFF AT ALL and I WILL NEVER DO AGAIN! Honest! how mad I was to believe the thing that popped up in my blog Dashboard and said all I had to do was to ‘Click here’ and I could upgrade from 2.9 to 3.0. It was a trap for the reckless and unwary. For someone who had got TOO BIG FOR HER BOOTS! Because I clicked ‘here’ and I lost access to Planet Penny. For FOUR WHOLE DAYS!
It’s hard to think that a couple of years ago I scarcely knew what a blog was, and now I was completely bereft because I had been cut off from my other little world.
But, my knight in shining armour, AKA Craig, has just galloped to the rescue and saved the day, AND did it all without making me feel a complete TWIT. (Well, I already felt like a twit, but he didn’t rub it in) So thank you, Craig, and I can resume normal service.
Now, where was I…?
…but not on track yet…I get into a bit of a dooda when I haven’t blogged for a while and I know there is a backlog of photos in my camera and words in my head and I don’t know where to start so please forgive me if it all goes a bit jumbly as it’s very true to life!
Life has been extremely hectic but Tim has gone back to work for a fortnight and I will be working to a different rhythm. The only way to cope with this sort of routine is to divide life into two and look for the positive aspects of something potentially depressing, like being alone for two weeks while your other half is stuck in the middle of the North Sea. As in an empty space in the bed but no snoring! Cooking for one, but fewer calories cos the one who wants roast potatoes and a pud has someone else to cook them!
We all had a lovely few days away. Higgins came home looking very trim after spending all his holidays dashing round after his whippet friends. He obviously made himself completely at home because he stole underpants out of their laundry basket too! We had a grandson fix to keep us going until they come to stay in August. It was a little bittersweet as, after living in Normandy all their married life, our son and daughter-in-law are relocating to the south coast of England next month. Rouen hasn’t seen the last of us though, as my fellow mother-in-law (together we are ‘The Belle-mere Mafia) has invited us back to stay and as you will later see, there is still shopping to be done!
I still haven’t told you about the Pick n’Mix Market, which seems a long time ago now. Fortunately Teena and Lisa took lots of lovely photos as I was so excited I completely forgot! So pop over to Kitschen Pink and Bobo Bun to get the full picture, both of their lovely stalls, and everyone else’s! I was very drawn to Sasha’s stall with assorted stuffed toys made of such pretty fabrics. Do I need a flowery kitten? Well no, but I couldn’t quite resist.
There were beautiful dog collars and leads in Liberty fabrics, but Higgins is too much of a boy and I regretfully passed by (Also, I want Tim to be prepared to walk him, and I don’t think a flowery lead would pass, Tim’s too much of a boy too) After refreshing ourselves with coffee and delicious Stilton and walnut scones at Daisy Boo’s Kitchen (I also forgot to photograph the cupcakes, sorry) in the corner I crept back to see Emma, of Silver Pebble, because she also had something quite irresistible, this gorgeous silver, pearl and mother-of-pearl button necklace. Actually, most of it was irresistable but I couldn’t spend ALL of the housekeeping…
(Despite my best efforts I couldn’t get a photograph that did justice to the necklace’s prettiness so please visit Silver Pebble to see Emma’s lovely jewelry at it’s best)
Back to our holiday and my first exciting shopping may seem inexplicable to some. We went to IKEA! Well I do live in a very rural part of the country where the nearest Ikea is two and a half hours away in two different directions so it’s always a treat. We actually went to look at useful but dull stuff, like kitchen cupboards but then I found some lovely colourful bits and pieces which made me very happy…
See how easily pleased I am? I mean, washing up brushes! But the little pots hang off a bar and will be a cheery and useful thing to have in the studio holding scissors and pencils and brushes and all the other bits and bobs I need to have close to hand.
I did find another shop, a little treasure on the coast which I will save for next time as I fear I have lingered too long over the keyboard.
Meanwhile Higgins has been doing a little work on the side, helping out with another blog draw. If you pop over to That Elusive Line you should see him in action with the hat.
(The hat survived, just)
Now we have sorted out Higgins’ holiday arrangements we can worry about our own! I shall be back before long after a trip under the English Channel and hope to catch up with writing about all the things I have been photographing just lately and haven’t had time to process, including the beautiful necklace I bought at the Pick n’Mix Market, the presents I have made that I can’t show you until they have been handed over, the bag of pretty yarn I’m about to turn into a cosy little blanket ….
Lots to say and no time, but I’ll see you all soon.
Have a good week…
…I’m Turning into Mrs Pumphrey
When the entire family used to sit down to watch ‘All Creatures Great and Small’ (longer ago than I care to think now) one of the characters which raised the most laughs was Mrs Pumphrey and her small spoilt little dog, Tricky Woo. I mean, she was so besotted with this silly little dog, made daft demands on it’s behalf and generally treated it like a human child. Honestly, how ridiculous!
But I find I’m turning into Mrs Pumphrey!!! And Higgins is Tricky Woo!!! It’s apalling, and I’m ashamed…
We’ve beem agonising for sometime over holiday arrangements for Higgins. Our last dog, Spike, was so upset after his one stay in kennels I vowed not to do it again, and the plans made when we decided to have Higgins meant he wouldn’t need to go. But circumstances change, and we had to find alternative arrangements. A chance sighting from the Park and Ride bus of a logo on a car led us to Barking Mad, a countrywide franchise of doggy holiday homes, where your pooch can go and stay with a family, with all his toys and bed everything to make him feel secure and at home.
And yesterday was Higgins’ trial sleepover. The lovely Sharon (whom I had bombarded with emails and instructions about how Higgins likes his blankets arranged and which was his favourite teddy) arrived to screams of delight (and peeing, when will he grow out of that?) from Higgins who had found out about the pocket of treats on her first visit. He went off happily in the car to spend the night with a nice lady and her two whippets and I imagine is having a wonderful time.
I on the other hand have been moping about, worrying, while my nearest and dearest say, ‘But he’s a dog…’
‘No, it’s Higgins!’
He’s home this evening , around five, and I imagine will tell me as much about his stay as any small boy just home from camp. And, all being well, will go off there again at the weekend to stay while we go to visit the grandsons in Rouen for a few days. During that stay he will be sending me a postcard and there will be holiday snaps which I’m sure he’ll like sharing with you…
See, I told you…I am turning into Mrs P…
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