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Secondhand- how low can you go?

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We have found some totally schwing things around the streets in the last week or so. Stuff we have uncannily been in need of.

I kid you not, the day Tim found this haul below, including massive enamel bowls, we had just bitten the bullet about having to buy a new washing up bowl from Pounduniverse. Then we got three cool looking ones for the price of one! (Which was free.)

It also included a couple of giant heavy based pots (perfect for our old gass cooker) . Someone was just clearing out their house and had stuck it all in the skip.

The morning we found this long runner for our corridor  Tim had just commented to young Ramona “We really need to get a better mat for this entrance.” Then, tada! Outside the estate around the corner. Pristine too. Weird, eh.

(Sorry that I am so Instagram happy, the thing is, without this retro filter these are just crap photos of a rug and a pot. But now, cos of the wonders of Instagram, they look like old crap photos of a rug and a pot.)

But anyway, with this secondhand cookingware, it could have been used for all sorts of business. As sick bowls for the frail and infirm. Chamberpots. Boiling up neighbourhood cats.  Yet now they have pride of place in our kitchen; we use them for our pasta and noodles and potatoes.  It has made me wonder about the oddest second hand thing you have ever bought/found/used?

Personally, second hand saucepans barely scratch the surface.

My worst?

Earplugs.

(But hey, I got a GREAT sleep in an airport as a result and what’s a bit of earwax between, um,  strangers? It was posh earwax too, very clean I ‘spect, as I pinched them out of First Class on my way out the plane.)

Tell me. Anyone wearing any charity shop pants?

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Little bundles of found wonders

Well, it has all got a little serious pants around here lately so here are some frivolous pictures from a little corner in our lounge.
This nook is completely inspired by The Recycled House– an artist’s house in Sydenham that we visited through Dulwich Open Studios. They say

“The Recycled House invites you to consider a creative alternative to consumerism”

– which articulates own own philosophy exactly. Their place is “rennovated” using all old things, I say “rennovated” because in some places this just means peeling back wall paper to reveal scraps of older wall paper, or covering a wall with ancient letters. It is something we ourselves had been wanting to do, but in a way we didn’t have the courage – we felt like ultimately we had to get our place looking Ikea-show-room-with-the-odd-stylish-vintage-item-thrown-in-ish. But our visit there liberated us from this, it made us feel like we could embrace the fact that we just love old things and really hate buying new. That things don’t have to make sense or have a function; it is fine to have things hanging around for your eyeballs to feast on.
So we ripped out the Little House on the Prairie pine veneer to expose the peeling paint and ripped wall paper, we hammered in some hooks and hung some trinkets. We displayed some tiny old cardboard boxes that are useless but delightful and folded some of my fabric in a way to make it look intentional.
This is a melodica, it is actually awesome and was £2.50 from a charity shop in Sussex. It even came with sheet music – sweeeet.

These are old glass slides we found in an antique shop in New Zealand, they have Victorians frolicking in meadows and nice scenes. I have been meaning to “do something” with them for years but feel that just nailing them is enough for now.

I have a couple more nooks to come tomorrow but Ramona waketh so I will dash…

PS- Also forgive these shocking blurry pictures, my camera has issues, so I was trying out the night setting! Baha, didn’t work.

The writing (and a pair of flares) is on the wall

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When I was 14 a can of spray adhesive changed my world. (By world I mean bedroom.) Gone were the tatty, blu tacked up Green Day posters and up went all manner of random stuff that shouldn’t naturally be stuck on walls. A pair of purple velvet flares that didnt fit me anymore. Some balls of tin foil. Wrapping paper, letters, the necklace I made out of ring pulls. (Even as a tike I liked digging around in bins.) It all went up, stuck solid.

Recently I have gotten back in touch with that spray adhesive loving 14 year old, but in less of a 3D way.

This is a line from a Foy Vance song. You don’t know him??? Shivering timbrels, you must check him out.

This is an ancient pack of Happy Families.


We have decided to keep our walls bare with all their cracks and concrete and plaster imperfections because we genuinely really like that bald, rough look. And easier to paste things up. (Got any spare flares?)

It does seem a bit weird posting about something so trivial while the UK is rioting. So to add a little depth… the solution is clearly for more love to get walking around, then we’ll all be happy families.

?????

Sort of.

But these are some links I have nodded along to- less “pointless violence by stupid youths” and more “awful violence by hopeless youths but maybe there is a point in here somewhere about inequality and life chances.”

Caring Costs but so do riots – The Independant

They don’t respect police or their parents – Guardian

Psychology of looting – Guardian

“…just because there is no political agenda on the part of the rioters doesn’t mean the answer isn’t rooted in politics.”

Yeah, yeah, the Indy and the Guardian? But, woah, what’s this!!

The underclass lashes out – Telegraph

So, peace and stay safe all. Let’s walk a little love up to some people’s faces.