The weather has been great for the time of year and we have had some wonderful times, including going for a flight in a seaplane, which has been a dream of mine for a few years. We saw our city on a most beautiful day and the knowledgeable pilot told us all sorts of interesting facts and figures about De Haviland seaplanes and their history. I had pictured the seaplane as being somewhat akin to one of those huge old romantic Catalinas and was a bit startled to see our craft bobbing along on the surface of the harbour, looking a bit like a dragonfly. When on the water the seaplane has to obey the rules of the sea, and then once in the air it must obey the rules of the sky and it was strange to be driving along over the water's surface as though we were in a car. But a wonderful experience and something I will always remember fondly.
Of course with all that leave we had to make the most of our chances to visit opportunity shops and we have had some wonderful finds. The latest art work to join my collection of priceless treasures is this oil painting, which set me back $5. (I love the way different people put different values on these paintings. Some opp shops try to fleece you for hundreds of dollars for an indifferent daub, while in other shops the assistants apologetically suggest, "Say, $5?" in a very hesitant tone as though expecting you will laugh out loud and tell them they are trying to rob innocent member of the public.) The thing I love most about these paintings is that somebody has gone to all the trouble and effort to paint something which presumably is very important and affecting to them. It seems sad that they or their family end up tossing them out for charity stores.
We also found a few hats to remodel and my sister, who has really taken up the cause for me in searching for all things royal, gave me these two wonderful tin plates to go in the picnic hamper she donated formerly.
The Duke of Edinburgh is remarkably pleased with himself, on the other hand. He may have some secret joke he is sharing with himself and himself alone.
When she handed them over my sister remarked that the Queen had some dribbles down her and that she had refrained from trying to remove them, and would leave it to me in case the plate was damaged beyond repair. Which was a bit naughty of her, since the marks would not wash off and I couldn't resist having a little pick at them, thus taking off a couple of patches of paint. Mr Shoestring tut tutted at me and he seems to think he will be able to clean them with car polish, but I'm not so sure and I'm a bit worried I may end up with two silver coloured discs. Never mind, we can only hope for the best. My sister also gave me another medal to commemorate the royal visit in 1954, and when I reminded her she had already given me one she remarked kindly that I have two now, one for each bosom. By a strange coincidence, on my op shopping rounds I had come across a set of six napkin rings commemorating the birth of Prince Harry in 1984 which I felt compelled to add to my collection. I must say that I was somewhat perplexed as to why anybody would feel the need to have six identical napkin rings, even if they did commemorate the birth of Prince Harry. Did they have whole sets for each notable person they admired? They made a pretty and much more highly polished addition to my napkin ring collection, anyway.
Now, when we set forth on our next picnic we can take our napkin rings as well as our medals (I could be generous and let Mr Shoestring wear one on his bosom, rather than wearing two myself) and tin plates. As long as there is no squabbling over who get to use the plate with the Queen, of course. And my sister thoughtfully packed the hamper with pewter goblets, so as to avoid the possibility of breakages.
We had a very interesting discussion about gardening, my sister and I. I showed her the mango seed I have been trying to grow into a houseplant and explained how I despaired of its survival, as it seems to have succumbed to some kind of die back because of being too damp and cool while it was germinating. I also pressed on to her a mandevillea seedling which I have been nurturing, and as she left with a tummy full of soup thrown together from leftovers, (but made delicious with the addition of about half a kilo of Parmesan cheese), she pointed out that the puffball fungus growing on the front lawn was supposedly edible. When I tried to give it to her so that she could eat it, she demurred and declared that she would not eat it, but would take it home to her garden so that the spores could spread and next year she would have a bumper crop. I wondered if perhaps she was not quite so sure of its edible nature as she declared herself to be.
The other thing which has been occupying a lot of my time has been trying to use up bits and pieces left over from other projects, such as making a "book" for my needles and other crazy quilting supplies, from a block which was lost when I finished my last quilt.
Complete with colour coordinated pins!
Thinking about all the chaos in my crazy quilting bag, where the bits of cotton, silk and ribbon all seem to wrap themselves into a hideous ball which it is impossible to untangle, I got out my trusty glue pen and made a whole lot of thread winders which are so pretty.
This book, which is designed for children of approximately 15 years old, was the most wonderful treasure I found this week. (Apart from the oil painting and maybe one or two other things which were on an equal footing, the napkin rings for instance.) It is very clear and practical and explains all kinds of complex (to my mind, anyway) techniques such as French seams and bound buttonholes, in a way which is easy to understand. Plus which, it also finally gives me an idea of how to wash my kid gloves without them turning into tortured and shrivelled, stiffened objects which resemble the corpses of small animals. A winner all round!
As a reward for all this good behaviour I allowed myself to deconstruct some of the kimonos I want to use for art deco dresses. When you first look at a kimono you feel you are going to be spoilt for choice, as there seems to be a huge amount of fabric in each one. This breaks down into the "outer" shell, which is the most sumptuous fabric with a gorgeous pattern woven into it or printed onto it. Then there is a complementing plain coloured silk for some of the lining, and the third piece which is usually plain cream silk. Once you start to carefully unpick the kimono though, it becomes evident just how beautifully made they all are. They seem to be hand stitched with a sort of small running stitch, using silk thread. The attention to detail is beautiful and each piece of silk is woven on a loom which is only 14 inches (35.5cm) wide. If you want to be careful not to damage the fabric, and to retain as much as possible for using, it becomes a very laborious and time consuming process, and because of the width of the silk it is not useful for anything needing large pieces of fabric, for instance bias cut dresses, but all the same it is well worth taking the pieces all apart to reuse. Maybe.
In the pretty china department I was thrilled when these darling little salt and peppers were still in the op shop I revisited, having passed them over last time as being a bit costly. When I returned the lady behind the counter said, "$4 each that must be a mistake!" At which point my heart sank, but then she exclaimed, "It must mean $4 for the pair." I hastily paid and dashed out before she could change her mind.
And my collection of mismatched crockery for dining is pretty much complete now. Well, more than complete really, I could host a banquet. In fact, I must stop. This is probably my favourite plate and I try to use it whenever we are having a meal, so it has risen to the top of the pile and there it will stay until the day I break it.
And here's wishing you many happy feasts with your loved ones, and success in finding whatever treasure you seek.
