Head of bone and heart of stone

Sun, rain, wind...the Mitfords ...opshops, garage sales, tipshops...sick girlchild...suicidal cat next door...it's all go here. There's a cyclone in the north, and a long weekend coming - they may even arrive at the same time. 

We've had some rain,which was really welcome.  The cat next door has taken to laying in front of approaching vehicles.
  It won't end well. 

I'm re-reading The House of Mitford, by Jonathon Guinness with Catherine Guinness.  Nancy wrote to her sister Unity, starting 'Darling Head of Bone and Heart of Stone...' They were a family entirely of contrast but their use of language was magical and fabulously far from today's text-speak.  Text speak is slowly but surely sucking the poetry and wit from communication. I shall continue to rant against it.  

I also read Honk If You Are Jesus by Peter Goldsworthy. I finished it this afternoon, waiting in Accident and Emergency at the hospital for my daughter to see someone about the brain splitting earache she's contracted.  Apparently she's going to live to work again but is spending some quality time with various pain reducing potions.   The medical bent of the novel fitted my surrounds.  

Fantastic pickings at the oppies and garage sales this weekend.  A friend brought me two new very old suitcases; one garage sale had not only a pine box, but enough lovely old crockery to fill it.  I found a wonderful tin trunk, it's a bit rusty on the outside but the inside is still very tidy. There was a watercolour in a beautiful old frame, and a heap of framing stuff like hooks. A very nice English-made navy leather jacket. Brilliant yellow rusty tin numbers.  Very exciting.

As things occur in runs, this weekend was CD's, DVD's, crockery.  One lady had lots and lots of the same kitchenalia that my mother had, it was uncanny to see it all together in one place, so far from her kitchen.  I bought some pieces in good condition, to use and some in chipped and cracked condition, to misuse and abuse.

the lazy, the women and the wardrobe

o Happy four day weekend, how I love you.

Nice weather on the home front....

Good friends, champagne, fresh local oysters, mussels and local salmon.  You could almost taste the serenity.

We were (as usual) tip trawling on Friday afternoon, when we came across a lovely antique wardrobe (which caused my companion to drool) and a mid-century display cabinet, which caused me to lose all reason. I HAVE NO ROOM IN MY HOUSE FOR MORE FURNITURE.

Naturally, we bought them instantaneously. She who hesitates, misses out.  Of course, they won't fit in the vehicle at the same time. I stay with the purchases, friend scoots home to get the trailer.  Extremely large and heavy wardrobe fits into trailer with 5cm clearance.  At this stage we'd just like to thank all the gormless blokes who stood around or sat in their vehicles texting - no doubt complaining how we were slowing them down in their quest to buy grog for Australia Day.  Especially the ex-local Councillor and his young mate, for whom helping your fellow person is apparently only a church guideline. 

We also wrassled the heavy mirrored and glassed cabinet into the vehicle without assistance.  We knew we could do it, but it simply would have been easier and quicker with another pair of hands. 

My friend is very happy with her wardrobe, and my display cabinet is in situ and intact, which is more than you could say of my opinion of the Australian spirit and 21st century manners.

At a tip in a nearby municipality, however, there is no shortage of helping hands and community spirit.  My uncle, in the dark recesses of the dawn of time (last century) was possessed of a rocking chair which even in the 60's was considered antique.  When they moved into a new residence it, with other fabulous stuff, was dumped.  Even as a child I begged my father not to do it, but he said it was old and I couldn't possibly want it.  He was so very wrong.

(Come to think of it, this may have started me on a certain path.)

I saw one at a garage sale about 4 years ago, they wanted an inordinate amount of cash for it and I had to let it go.  Today, I got one.  It's a bit ratty but structurally sound. I can rebuild it, I have the technology - sandpaper, hard work, etc etc.  I also got a wooden tripod thingy which will make an excellent lamp, and assorted other bits and pieces. And yes, someone offered me assistance to load it into the car without being asked, with a smile. 

It's called good manners.

I took my out of town friends to Willyung Antiques for a bit of a prowl on Saturday, and it's well worth the (short) trip.  Lovely spot, fantastic stock, proper cup of tea with a scone, served by a helpful and genial host. I loved that he knew the stories of the items he was selling and so obviously was interested in them.  My friend bought a lovely old bathroom/first aid cabinet and my grip had to be prised from some oregon pine pigeonholes.  

I thought I might reclaim a certain blackwood sideboard currently stashed elsewhere - pigeonholes for the placement of - but when I got home I realised I have a nice oregon chest of drawers here which would be enhanced by said accoutrement.

I told you I have too much furniture. I may need another scone next weekend, who can say.  

Ho.Ho. Ho.

With the hot carrot-scented breath of a reindeer on the back of my neck, I note that the Big Day is drawing closer, and closer, at speed.

The presents are wrapped and under the tree. Said tree is decorated.  Reindeer are good to go.

The mice are preparing for a quiet one tomorrow night, Christmas eve.  They shall not stir.

I've had a peaceful few weeks between markets, and managed to complete some new models, some of which sold from the kitchen table or shared photos, and didn't even make it to the second market. 
 

I posted some pics on Pinterest and kind people have repinned or liked them.  This is good.  (I'm still just a tad surprised when other people like my work and a teeny bit nervous about going too public with my babies.)

Pinterest itself has communicated with me, as these websites tend to.  They sent me an email, entitled 'Pins you will love'.  Sadly, I did not love them.  I mean, hey, they were quite nice pins in their own rights but I was not thrilled, excited or amazed by them.  Perhaps the email should say 'Pins you might kinda like'.  I've seen other stuff I did -well - love/like a lot/find interesting.  But these were not they.  I guess Pinterest hasn't worked out all of my secrets just yet.  I shall maintain my air of mystery a wee while longer.  Call me Mata Hari.

I have only about 10 days of leave left before I'm forced to return to the pit of despair to continue earning to subsidise my foibles.  When the little dog looks sad as I leave for work, I tell him brusquely that I am working to buy his (upmarket) dog food.  He saves his energy by snoozing, that he may rejoice at my return.  This is as it should be. I'm certainly rejoicing on my return, especially when the longer daylight hours mean that I can garden, or work, or sit and read outside.

All the saleable goods and display items have returned home from their temporary market home and been stashed in their storage spots.  I noticed it took two trips to deliver the goods to market and only one to come home, so it must be a positive outcome. 


This also means that I'm free to play with new ideas and designs for a little while.  I also need to do quite a bit more tidying, stashing and even - gasps from the audience - tossing out/giving away.

The idea has left me quite lightheaded.  I think I'll need a little lay down while I think about it.

Merry Christmas, all.

My tin sign says 'today' today

Week 1.  Post market recovery.  

Somewhere between breakfast and morning tea on day 1- hey, how about participating in a vintage and handmade market?  Frantic stocktake.  Finds stuff everywhere, even some unmounted drawings. Stuff in drawers, behind other things. In two weeks. Yeah, why not?

Note to self: think these things through.

Of course, being the maker and acquirer that I am, it doesn't take deep excavation to find more stock. 

So today was spent finding and making, framing and mounting prints and drawings.  With breaks for walking the hound and drinking tea on the veranda - although I actually gave up on the last cup because the ever-blasting wind blew leaves into my cup and had a good shot at blowing the biscuit off my plate.

Some steampunk airships are midway done.  More mounted chessmen - including one who shall be named 'chuck' because his base is partially the chuck from a drill which I found, with several other exciting bits, at the local salvage yard.(Along with a tin sign which says, rather concisely 'today'.)

There's considerable progress on a model of a boy in a boat, however it's proving quite complex and unlikely to be finished in time.  After last weekend my lounge room is bereft of adornment (to a point) and that one may stay with me for a while before I let it go.

In between: put more soil on the potatoes; planted more lettuces and Chandler strawberries; noted that the never-fail parsnips are living up to their name; idly pondered how one human being will possibly be able to consume that much rhubarb; basked in the (temporarily) tidy and comparatively minimalist lounge room; gave the Dyson (garage sale, of course) some new filters before a thorough workout; played with the puppy; slept late a couple of times; cruised the op shops, garage sales, tip shop and salvage yard; and continued to wonder why those men from the gas company are all over town digging holes in footpaths and verges, looking thoughtfully at them and then filling them in.

One could be forgiven for thinking that they don't know where anything is, but I was a bit worried when they dug the same hole in the neighbour's verge twice, two weeks apart.  What could have changed?  Or could they not recall what they saw the first time, what with all the excitement and all. Those pipes can be tricky if you don't keep an eye on them.

Now I have 30 Bad Alice bags to fold, label, bag and price so I can pack them into a vintage suitcase to take to market.

Raiders of the lost Perth tip shops

Sunset, West Coast

I've just returned, with a good friend and fellow treasure hunter, from a whirlwind tour of the tip shops in Perth - well, the metro area, anyway.  It was a most enjoyable, if hectic, couple of days, but I do have a critical observation to make.

Dear freeway drivers:  YOU ARE NOT INVISIBLE.  Picking your nose whilst driving at high speed is, to say the least, uncool.  The shiny tinted things in the doors and at the front are made of glass and others can see you.  Stop it, you disgusting little beasts.

Concern, South Coast

There. I feel much better. 

Now, to the business at hand:

It's not actually all that easy to work out where the tip shops are.  The main ones we found, after interweb research, a quick survey of Facebook friends and asking family were at Mindarie, Balcatta, and Cockburn.  Given the short timeframe and the kilometres involved, this was where we concentrated our efforts.

I would love to hear of others in WA, and how they measure up to the comparative shopper.

Coming out on top for us was Balcatta.  It had the disorganised hustle and bustle which suits the intrepid hunter and the eclectic and downright weird stuff which we like to see.  There was, literally, something for everyone and everyone was there, from the pearl and faux leopardskin Nedlands grande Dame to the man who stopped in the rain to tell me a joke. ('A man went to the doctor and said he thought he had water on the brain.  The doctor gave him a tap on the head and sent him home.') Hey, I was in the plumbing section and holding a brass tap. There was context.

It became apparent that there was unlikely to be anything of serious dollar value hidden there, as I saw when someone asked for a price on a pretty little plate only to have it (literaly) snatched from his hands to be sent off to be appraised.  As the person who worked there said, there would be 'no Antiques Roadshow moments' there.  I asked what happened post-appraisal but alas, there was no response. I was just interested to know - but maybe they didn't.

Things I left behind....

Still, there were lots of interesting things and the prices were good.  The parking and drop-off organisation was - well,  not there, really, and if you are going there just to buy you can save a lot of time by NOT following the signs and instead taking the 'commercial truck only' lane to the carpark (which is just inside the gates to the right as you enter). Otherwise, prepare to spend a lot of time tangled up in the people having their drop-offs peered at, while you watch others scuttle off with fabulous finds.

It takes time, patience and a sense of adventure but all in all a lot of fun and good stuff for $10.

Next was the Mindarie Regional Council operation at Tamala Park.  The organisation of parking and drop-off was excellent.  There was heaps of space and some nice stuff but I was surprised that there wasn't as much stock as I expected for a major regional operation.  There were heaps of people coming and going and so perhaps the turnover was really high.  The furniture items were pretty good but there weren't a lot of the smaller miscellaneous items, the crockery, glassware, books, etc.  Really, people, when the jigsaw puzzle spills out of the box it's a fair thing to sweep it up and get rid of it. Chances are that there are only 999 of the 1000 pieces which may ever find their way back into the box, especially after the first week or so. When several jigsaw puzzles have intermingled, it's OK to clean it up.

The furniture was marginally cheaper than Balcatta, but there wasn't as much of a range.  We'll certainly keep it on the list for next time.

We went to Cockburn on the way home, it's a fairly new looking arrangement and really hard to find, due to a complete lack of signage.

We finally gave up and followed a dump truck.

It was way more expensive than the others and the smallest in terms of stock.  Most of the prices were a tad on the high side even for a locality near the trendy opshops of Fremantle, but perhaps the locals are used to that.  The guys working there were friendly and helpful and they were the only ones who helped we dainty girls with bulky and heavy furniture. It's really, really organised and tidy, if you like that sort of thing.  Certainly worth a look if you're passing.

and things I COULDN'T leave behind....