And here we are again, basking in imaginary sunshine and blinking in the rather twinkly light cast by the double act that is a new Prime Minister and his Liberal Democrat twinnie…
It’s a new dawn, it’s a new day and it’s a brand spanking new BrocanteHome to find your way around and hopefully find yourself thoroughly inspired by all over again.
In the meantime want to hear what has been floating my boat?
* First up, in honour of the Playground Mummies bookclub choice of the month, Wuthering Heights, I hereby present what could have been Finn’s very own version of life as a Bronte sister complete with roars and screeches and the knocking over of furniture. Remember Kids, use your brain and you’ll make history! And if that isn’t a motto to live by then I don’t know what is…[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-NKXNThJ610&w=445&h=364]
Ooh and speaking of kid games be prepared to snaffle your babba’s Nintendo DS consoles the minute they close their eyes, because rumour has it that the makers of the obligatory (and rather fun!) Mama Cooks series are in cahoots with Martha Stewart to bring a little bit of her magic to one more area of your life in which you didn’t kn0w you needed her and probably now won’t be able to live without.
Yippee! I’m in the mood for a whole new addiction don’t you know…
* Speaking of addictions, and because I am contractually obliged to report that as always I remain a lazy article of quite the highest order, might I just give a great big BrocanteHome cheer for the breakfasty joy that is the Belvita Milk and Cereal Breakfast Biscuit. This my Darlings is the day I have been waiting for all my life: finally someone has given me permission to eat biscuits for breakfast, and what’s more these are the kind of biscuits that have declared war on my bonkers blood sugar, without bloating my rather dramatic tummy and almost made me feel like a normal human being for most of the morning. Delish.
* Next up: Barbara Streisand. Yes I am having a Barbara moment. I have been warbling Streisand tunes all over the place and tonight, now all the election hullaballub is over and I can finally tear my eyes away from the soap opera that was for a while the evening news, and the terribly un-Brocante-like fascination with Prison Break that I am almost ashamed to admit to, I intend to put together a little tray of scrumptious treats (stuffed vine leaves, tzatziki, bread and olives) and curl in an exhausted ball in front of The Way We Were. When life is good a little bit of Robert Redford is surely the cherry on top of the most divine of lemon icing, is he not?
* Trying to teach myself to like local honey in the battle against early morning hayfever. Mixing it with shredded grapefruit and lemon and wanting to cry for the sweet bloody horrible taste of it. Rubbing vaseline up my nostrils. Drinking nettle tea. Overdosing on onions and still waking up with sticky eyes and a snotty nose. Bring on the drugs NOW or else show me an alternative that actually works and I’m all yours for life…
* Making Finley laugh by smushing raspberries over my lips, topping the pretty red stain with balm and calling it lipgloss. Appalling him altogether by wearing far to much colour in celebration of the season and resisting his demands to go back upstairs and change into something black. (One cannot and should not take fashion advice from a six year old boy). Wanting to kiss him when he tells me he can’t wait for Richard to arrive because “he’s like you and me Mum, he just suits our house…”
* And finally because I meant to post this a long time ago and quite forget but now must before Summer is upon us, a sonnet from Edna St. Vincent Millay that renders the Vintage Housekeepers heart glad…
It came into her mind, seeing how the snow
Was gone, and the brown grass exposed again,
And clothes-pins, and an apron—long ago,
In some white storm that sifted through the pane
And sent her forth reluctantly at last
To gather in, before the line gave way,
Garments, board-stiff, that galloped on the blast
Clashing like angel armies in a fray,
And apron long ago in such a night
Blown down and buried in the deepening drift,
To lie till April thawed it back to sight,
Forgotten, quaint and novel as a gift—
It struck her, as she pulled and pried and tore,
That here was spring, and the whole year to be lived through once more.
Have a lovely week Housekeepers.P.S: All images as always credited on my Pinboard.