Mr Shoestring was feeling very restless on Saturday morning and I put it down to the fact that he had solved his problems with water and was at a bit of a loose end. He decided a trip to the garage sale in the next town was in order and this suited me fine. What a worthwhile trip it turned out to be! I found this fabulous art work ($2) to add to the landscape collection. At this rate the collection will be internationally famous! (If not for its quality then for its budget constraints.)
Also I could not resist this embroidered picture - is it The Girl With The Pearl Earring by any chance? I am planning to turn it into a shopping bag; it cost me the princely sum of $2 also and I think with a nice handle and some sturdy fabric to create the gusset, bottom and back of the bag it will be a useful addition at Shoestring.
Mrs Peaceable suggested that I find a pearl and sew it in place so she really does have the pearl earring. I may have to scratch through my bead collection and see what we have in stock. "The Girl" came with a picture frame which Mr Shoestring removed upon our arrival back at the cottage, and used to frame the last landscape we bought; you can see very little goes to waste and Mr Shoestring is becoming a master of our "Use it up, wear it out, make it do or do without" philosophy. Here are the landscapes nesting together on the wall.
It was very difficult to resist two seascapes also for sale ($2 each) at the same garage sale, but the cottage is very small and the walls will be groaning under the weight of the landscapes if the collection keeps growing at its current rate, so sadly we left them behind.
Mr Shoestring found this lovely flying bird tap and some odd brass fittings which he was desperate to have. He does not need them right now but he is convinced that in time he will find a use for them. Hmmm, taps and more water fittings, there is definitely a theme emerging. That prolonged period of water worries has obviously had an effect on him. Anyway, he was very pleased with the tap and installed it straight away.
And in the garden this weekend the broad beans were blossoming away happily and the broccoli was ready to be harvested. Shamefully though, I am so proud of the broccoli (the first I have succeeded in growing ever) that I am loathe to cut it, and if I don't cut it soon it will be going to seed.
Thursday, July 7, 2011
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
On Becoming A Man
No, I am not thinking of becoming a man ... though there is that solitary troublesome whisker on my chin which has developed in the last little while.
On Becoming A Man was the title of a book I picked up at the Presbyterian Garage Sale last weekend and what a revelation it turned out to be.
Recently I had been quietly relieved that our only son seemed to be reasonably well adjusted, affable and personable. Having come from an intensely feminine household myself (only sisters, girl cousins and so forth) it came as rather a surprise to give birth to a male child after three daughters, but it was all working out for the best. Mr Shoestring was always there to sit up at nights and watch sports fixtures, he even understood the offside rule in football and he was happy to eat endless amounts of junk food with his only son.
Our boy was studying during term time, working at a job during holidays, hanging out with his friends, playing lots of football, going for long runs and generally behaving in a way which did not cause us too much anxiety. He had a very lovely and friendly girlfriend too, so all seemed with his world. Although we did have the occasional disagreement about how much housework was a suitable contribution towards family life, I thought we were sailing calmly through the end of the teenage years.
But no, how wrong I was! How complacent and smug I had been. When I picked up On Becoming A Man I discovered the error of my ways. This book was so full of metaphors that (being the obtuse creature that I am), I sometimes found it difficult to understand the point which was being made. There were so many references to running in a new motor, learning to fly a jet aircraft and lending out one's new motor-cycle that I was perplexed from time to time. But the chapters on "going steady", "apron strings", "day-dreaming", "second hand day-dreams" and the dangers of "petting" were all very instructive. And it seemed that reading fiction was extremely dangerous, never mind all the other mistakes we had been making.
I presented this impressive and instructive tome to our boy and was gratified to hear his appreciative remarks. He declared it to be "classic", and he couldn't wait to share it with his friends. Perhaps it is not too late - he may have been saved in the nick of time from "the development of selfish habits or personal indulgences". Only time will tell.
On Becoming A Man was the title of a book I picked up at the Presbyterian Garage Sale last weekend and what a revelation it turned out to be.
Recently I had been quietly relieved that our only son seemed to be reasonably well adjusted, affable and personable. Having come from an intensely feminine household myself (only sisters, girl cousins and so forth) it came as rather a surprise to give birth to a male child after three daughters, but it was all working out for the best. Mr Shoestring was always there to sit up at nights and watch sports fixtures, he even understood the offside rule in football and he was happy to eat endless amounts of junk food with his only son.
"The remarkable growth of a teen-age boy within a single year is often a
source of astonishment to his friends and of pride to his family."
"Any youth is wise who controls his special friendship so that it does
not develop too fast. Serious thoughts need not spoil his pleasant times."
But no, how wrong I was! How complacent and smug I had been. When I picked up On Becoming A Man I discovered the error of my ways. This book was so full of metaphors that (being the obtuse creature that I am), I sometimes found it difficult to understand the point which was being made. There were so many references to running in a new motor, learning to fly a jet aircraft and lending out one's new motor-cycle that I was perplexed from time to time. But the chapters on "going steady", "apron strings", "day-dreaming", "second hand day-dreams" and the dangers of "petting" were all very instructive. And it seemed that reading fiction was extremely dangerous, never mind all the other mistakes we had been making.
I presented this impressive and instructive tome to our boy and was gratified to hear his appreciative remarks. He declared it to be "classic", and he couldn't wait to share it with his friends. Perhaps it is not too late - he may have been saved in the nick of time from "the development of selfish habits or personal indulgences". Only time will tell.
Monday, July 4, 2011
Further Bulletin From The Peaceable Kingdom
This weekend on our way back to The Big Smoke Mr Shoestring and I called in at The Peaceable Kingdom, where all is fertile and creatures rub along together in harmony. Imagine how jealous I was when I noticed that the peppers were still growing and ripening in the vegetable garden at this time of the year.
We have just passed the shortest day and we are supposedly in the middle of winter. I pulled out all such summery plants from my garden weeks ago because I figured there would be no hope of them ever ripening. We were given some of the bounty of the garden to take home with us. There was a bumper crop of crabapples on the tree - they were so luminous, they looked as if they were illuminated from the inside.
But maybe the most surprising thing was that the organic brie which they shared with us. It was delicious! It looked just like a store bought brie, wrapped up in its own paper; the texture and flavour were wonderful. Outside a litter of piglets was frolicking around with the chickens and Rosie and Mr West were cropping the grass contentedly.
Mr Shoestring tells me that Rose and Mr West have produced a rabbit with a pelt of such a beautiful smokey grey that it almost appears blue, but I haven't spotted this baby yet. Perhaps next time I visit we will be graced with a visit.
We have just passed the shortest day and we are supposedly in the middle of winter. I pulled out all such summery plants from my garden weeks ago because I figured there would be no hope of them ever ripening. We were given some of the bounty of the garden to take home with us. There was a bumper crop of crabapples on the tree - they were so luminous, they looked as if they were illuminated from the inside.
But maybe the most surprising thing was that the organic brie which they shared with us. It was delicious! It looked just like a store bought brie, wrapped up in its own paper; the texture and flavour were wonderful. Outside a litter of piglets was frolicking around with the chickens and Rosie and Mr West were cropping the grass contentedly.
Mr Shoestring tells me that Rose and Mr West have produced a rabbit with a pelt of such a beautiful smokey grey that it almost appears blue, but I haven't spotted this baby yet. Perhaps next time I visit we will be graced with a visit.
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