Hello from Sunday night



045 copy copy

Breath comes in hard gulps. Hiking up the trail to the white pine before the rains come again. That’s autumn round here. The week world is made of city and mountain. Warm patio sun traps and city sized gardens, and cool mountain air, fresh pine smell and spongy trails.

On these rare breaks form the rain, I hike up the mountain to sit at the base of the white pine in the forest high above the city and absorb the calm.


When there’s more time, there’s a break to the country.

IMG_8198 copy copy

Misty mornings give way to sunny afternoons. Garden centres, little boutiques, lunch outside on a restaurant patio.
Country charm and country calm.

country girl copy

IMG_8234 copy copy

IMG_8228 copy copy

IMG_8151 copy copy

And then, like the busy bees, back to Monday and back to work and, quite probably, back to the rain.

IMG_8207 copy copy

Sharing with Judith and the Mosaic bunch. :D

Night time, the WordPress photo challenge

101 copy

036 copy copy

My two night times, the city and the country.
For the WordPress weekly photo challenge.

A river runs

Apparently it’s been a dry and lovely summer here on the West Coast and, while we can still believe that it’s the height of summer, there are undeniable signs of autumn all around.

001 copy copy

But what do we care about that on a golden Saturday as this Saturday it turning out to be?

We pick our way thru the boreal forest, around the giant cedars and firs, thru the curtain of vine maple…


…to the aspens and the river.

008 copy copy

And we stick out feet right in and and balance on the slippery rocks with our toes.

010 copy copy

And then, when the cold, mountain water isn’t taking our breath away, we gently ease our bodies right into the river…

023 copy copy

…and watch as the aspens drop their leaves and float them by.

020 copy copy

And hours go by and the shadows lengthen and we reluctantly dry off and head out of the boreal forest for home.


And as we walk out of the forest, the summer river seems like a memory because the signs of autumn whisper to us from all around. They are as ephemeral as a spider’s web and as real as next year’s wildflowers seeds caught within.

061 copy copy

But even as our thoughts turn to autumn, we will hold on to our summer river as long as we can.

056 copy copy

Time for one last walk. The Wychwood forest.

Very close to us at West Cottage is a forest called Wychwood. It used to stretch over 180 square miles and was counted as a Royal Forest of William the Conqueror in the 1086 Doomsday book.

032 copy copy

It’s a mixed forest of pines, beech, oak, maple, and the most glorious, tall bracken undergrowth.

It has a circular public path thru it and we chose to have a walk here today.

031 copy copy



069 copy copy

034 copy copy

028 copy copy

At one point, the path wend out of the forest…

039 copy copy

…and we stopped and looked over our beautiful Oxfordshire countryside…

048 copy copy

…and the golden fields around us.

051 copy copy

Then we found a majestic oak and had a rest and listened to the forest.

055 copy copy

060 copy copy


013 copy copy

Summer is almost over and we can see autumn approaching fast.
Tomorrow I have to leave the country and return to the city, but I’m glad we got to walk thru this magical forest before I had to go.

Sharing with Judith and the mosaic bunch, and I’ll come visit everyone after I land in Vancouver.

Friday night disaster…averted!

I have a Land Rover story to tell you, but rather than show you the gruesome happenings, I’m going to show you the lovely vintage things I bought the other day.

So, I had to run into Oxford today and Robbie and I made a deal that I would undercoat the chassis of the Landi first thing this morning and then, while I’m in Oxford, R would put the floors back in.

007 copy copy(lovely old tools and a little silver spoon)

“Just get under the car,” Robbie said, “I’ll spread out a carpet remnant for you. It’ll be easy. Half an hour and you’ll have it done.”

Then he said, “Here, use this scrapper and this screwdriver and this wire brush to just brush off the loose bits before you paint it.” :D

004 copy copy(1920 commercial bread loaf pan and a small iron skillet)

So I tied my two feet of hair into a braid, got into R’s overalls, climbed under the car and started scraping the tar goop and loose rust off…which started falling all over the carper remnant, R’s overalls, and my two feet of hair!!! And the more I moved under the car, the more it got into my hair.

About an hour into it R came to see how I was getting on.
marisa-tomei copy copy
And to help me with the job because we greatly underestimated the amount of work.

About three hours later we were finally finished and I cleaned my hands with the turpentine and ran my fingers thru my fringe and my fingers wouldn’t go thru it.

OMG! How will I get tar and enamel latex out of my hair!

No time for hair rescue, tied it up and drove into Oxford.

008 copy copy(thread spools from a Victorian cloth factory and an old ruler)

I love to walk the 3 miles into the town centre from the park and ride and today I had a beautiful walk in a strong wind…which blew my hair around and tangled the tar into it even more.

Now I know that the theory is that one shouldn’t have two feet of hair past their 30s but stuff that for a game of soldiers. I love having long hair and, what’s more, I love being a brunette, so cutting the tar out and using solvents was not an option.

So, back home, and I ran a really hot bubble bath, soaked in it for a very long time, washed my hair with R’s strong detergent Pantene instead of my gentle organic shampoo, squidged an entire tube of thick, gloopy conditioner thru my hair in two treatments and combed thru it with a fine toothed comb. The resulting hairball would have made my long haired Morgan jealous, but, a final little comb thru with a bit of coconut oil detangler, and my hair is back to soft, lustrous, normal.

015 copy copy(18 and 19C French fabric scraps)

Disaster averted.
And I have a beautiful, rust free Land Rover (Landi update to follow) :D

WordPress weekly photo challenge, Fray.

087 copy

095 copy

100 copy

115 copy

092 copy

I was just thinking of another meaning. Of how deer fray the velvet off their antlers to mark territory. And I was thinking of how I sat in the grass at Charlecote Park and watched the male roe deer grazing. And, as I sat there, a small group came running down the meadow to join the larger group. They rubbed antlers, smelt noses and accepted each other.

A fray of sorts.

For the wordpress weekly photo challenge, Fray.

WordPress weekly photo challenge: Silhouette

Are you kidding me? :D I love taking photos into the sunlight and getting silhouettes. As a matter of fact, if I could, those would be the only kinds of photos I’d take; that’s how much I love it.

I love the results of shooting into the light, like the boats below.
_MG_3194 copy

But I also love the light itself as a silhouette.

IMG_7132 copy

And my most favourite is capturing silhouettes thru unlikely screens, like leaves and flowers.

gunnera1 copy

Let me see if I can dig up a sunset shot out of the files. I like those too. :D

For the WordPress weekly photo challenge: Sillouette

Charlecote park kitchens, laundry and brew house

Oh boy, I was in heaven in these Charlecote park rooms.

As a collector of all things vintage, my heart went all out to everything here and I just wanted to move in. As a matter of fact, I contemplated applying for the volunteer job the lady had in the kitchen, making scones for the children and petting the kitchen cat all day.

Except I’d end up painting in these rooms…lol…I just know it. Great big canvases stood up all along the walls. Might not go over too well with the National Trust.

Anyway, have a look and this incredibly photo-heavy post…but then you already know that’s the standard round here. :D

What follows is the most beautiful vintage house porn you’ve seen in a while, and, if you’re like me and love old copper and black steel and ironstone, let’s move in here together.

You can do the scones and I can paint. ;D

230 copy copy

267 copy copy

241 copy copy

242 copy copy

263 copy copy

271 copy copy

254 copy copy

249 copy copy


276 copy copy


Laundry house:
385 copy copy

389 copy copy


390 copy copy

233 copy copy

236 copy copy

Brew house:
397 copy copy


407 copy copy


404 copy copy


WordPress weekly photo challenge: Texture, and Photo Friday with Nature

Do you love oaks?

I do.
Here is a wealth of old oak and texture from tip to root.

039 copy copy

047 copy copy


050 copy copy

Sharing with WordPress and the weekly photo challenge: Texture and Photo Friday with From Nature

Visiting Charlecote Park

My friend Elaine dropped off a book at the cottage with instructions that I should read it as we shall go visit a great house. The book was The Mistress of Charlecote, the Memoirs of Mary Elizabeth Lucy. And I dutifully read it.

Mary Elizabeth could have stepped right out of a Jane Austin novel. She was the good a dutiful daughter from a well-to-do Welsh family, who was married at 20 to an older George Lucy. She cried and pleaded with her parents against her marriage, but Lucy had a great fortune of £10,000 per year and the estate, and her parents would not be moved. Her mother said, “Love WILL come when you know all of Mr Lucy’s good qualities.” and she did grow to love him, as her mother said she would, and together they had 8 children, (five died), and she lived in his ancestral home till she herself died at a ripe old age.

019 copy copy

The book was an enchanting and, at times, heartbreaking read, and I’ve fallen completely in love with Mary Elizabeth, her husband George, all of the children, and this great house and park she called home.

mr and mrs

The Lucy family have lived in this house since the 13C and have farmed fallow deer on the lands. Now, a herd of about 200 deer roam the park, which was redesigned by Capability Brown in the Victorian times.

115 copy copy

And here is the Tudor house, (with extensive redesigns to Victorian flavour). I’ve taken this photo from the roof of the entrance gate.

026 copy copy

Inside, most of the Tudor is gone, and that whole “throw in as many patterns and colours as possible” Victorian decoration abounds.

This is the sitting room with silk damask wall coverings and Mary Elizabeth’s harp.

149 copy copy

Here is the dining room with silver and furniture gifted to the Lucy’s by Queen Victoria and various other nobles who stayed at the house on holidays. The amazing wallpaper is gilded and flocked.

210 copy copy

Up the grand stairs hallway is a corridor with some bedrooms.


This was Mary Elizabeth and George’s bedroom, where all four children who were born there died. George also died in that bed.

150 copy copy

Another bedroom.

165 copy copy

Back down the stairs is the grand library. It contains original notes and first editions from Shakespeare! Can you believe it? As well as some illuminated books worth fortunes.

208 copy copy

A formal garden to stroll in overlooking the park.

206 copy copy

And just there, in dark brick, is a Victorian addition holding the grand library. (That is overlooking the formal garden.)

062 copy copy

Just here is the river Dene, which joins the river Avon along another side of the park.

Isn’t this a dream house and park? I still want to show you the kitchens, the brewery and laundry and other lovely Charlecote parts. :D

105 copy copy