A horse, a cat, 2 chickens and us, living in the hand-me-down heaven I call home, here in the beautiful Dorset Countryside.
A passion for pictures, shabbychic peeling paint, French textiles, overstated Victorian, elegant Art Deco and the angular 1960s is my ecclectic mix of favourite treasures, gathered through years of tedandbunny antiquing trips, auction and jumble sales, house clearances and rescue projects from the tip!
I found the gently dog-eared 1910 postcard at Alexandra Palace antique fair many years ago, instantly enchanted with such an adorable old Steiff Bear gently pushing his bunny friend in the ancient wheelbarrow.
Ted looks so handsome in his knitted suit!
When I registered for eBay back in 2002 the card was on my desk and I could think of no nicer name than tedandbunny.
After their sedentary beginnings with a handwritten message and halfpenny stamp, this dear old bear and his companion have been beamed all around the world via the internet.
and when I launched my website nothing seemed to sound better than tedandbunny.co.uk
Ted and Bunny are now firmly "part of the family"!
ted and bunny website
Goodwood Revival award
May the best hour of the day be yours.
May luck go with you from hill to sea.
May you stand against the prevailing wind.
May no forest intimidate you.
May you look out from your own eyes.
May near and far attend you.
May you bathe your face in the sun’s rays.
May you have milk, cream, substance.
May your actions be effective.
May your thoughts be affective.
May you will both the wild and the mild.
May you sing the lark from the sky.
May you place yourself in circumstance.
May you be surrounded by goldfinches.
May you pause among alders.
May your desire be infinite.
May what you touch be touched.
May the company be less for your leaving.
May you walk alone beneath the stars.
May your embers still glow in the morning.
A nosy fascination into other people's lives makes buying old photographs a complusion.
A single moment, forever frozen in time.
This week I've listed some batches of photos for sale on my eBay auctions.
Clearing out a cupboard this afternoon unearthed Ted's treasured old family album, and we spent a nostalgic couple of hours looking at childhood pictures.
I particularly love this wartime photo of his parents...Bet's suit is stunning- she looks like a movie star!
I love the clocks changing!
My phone will show the right time, because for 6 months I've been meaning to alter it.
I got up as normal at 6 a.m or "really" 5 a.m and felt I had gained an extra hour. . .then spent it drinking tea.
Now it's 8 o'clock and I feel like I'm an hour behind with my chores.
(I used this internet stock photo, the terms are "You can use the pictures..the cost is that you must go entirely barefoot for a day".)
And my feet are cold!
The elegant serenity of ilovemyhouse's white interior had me reaching for the paintpot until Ted pointed out the obvious impracticalities.
I must agree that for a housework-shy confirmed collectoholic who spends most days in muddy wellies, it was always going to be a difficult look to mantain.
So now when I get the urge for chic tranquility I'm just going to pop over to Linda's site and immerse myself in her beautiful photos, and ignore the trail of pussy paw-prints across my kitchen floor!
I woke up in a bad mood.
It took me so much by surprise I quickly shut my eyes again and tried to pretend I hadn't noticed.
No, it was still there.
I counted my blessings (of which there are many)
I counted chocolate treats (of which there are probably too many)
I counted favourite pairs of shoes (definitely too many)'
It was still there.
I got up, slipped a coat over my jammies, wellies on
my feet and went for a walk.
The best decision I made today was to leave the bad mood by the front gate. (Am I responsible if the postman picks it up?)
I walked across the field
and up towards the woods where my favourite little catkin tree is trying very hard to be like the grown-ups!
I realised my shoulders were still tight and I was stomping instead of striding, so I started singing- luckily no one was around to hear!
The snowdrops have disappeared on cue with the warmer weather, and this will soon be a heady carpet of bluebells, mixed with the unmistakable scent of wild garlic.
Back along the side of the woods, surprising the early morning rabbits and catching sight of two deer in the distance- alas I wasn't quick enough with the camera.
Needless to say, by the time I got home the bad mood had gone as quickly as it had arrived!
The upstairs spare bedroom is where I do my eBay packing, surrounded by a mountain of tissue, ribbon, home-dried lavender, boxes and girlie-pink mailing bags.
The posting bag sits midway on the landing waiting to be filled.
Kit is the dearest little cat who "found" us some 10 years ago, fresh from the farm at 6 weeks old, small in stature but with that HUGE and completely unique personality peculiar to tortie cats.
Knowing that the eBay room is strictly out of bounds, but wanting to help in a way that only a cat can, she decided this morning to check the parcels as they went into the bag. Luckily no mistakes were found!
Helpfulness can only last so long, and once the woodburner was lit she felt I would be capable of working unsupervised, and disappeared back downstairs to absorb the heat!
I just LOVE this Vintage 1950s French scenic print fabric.
It's got such a fresh Paris-in-the-Springtime feel!
I've listed two lengths for sale this week on my eBay site tedandbunny but I've kept a couple of metres back to use as curtains on the tiny windows in my newly decorated workroom.
As I write this, rain is still steadily falling from a grey morning sky.
Swaddled in waterproof rugs, Bruce the horse is picking at scraps of hay in the field, the hens are huddled under the hedge and Kit is asleep by the Rayburn keeping her dainty toes dry.
Paris. . .Springtime. . .ah well, a girl can dream!
Armed with Denise's uplifting clearing-and-cleaning thoughts from a bun can dance I was all set to tackle the kitchen dresser this morning.
In an overstuffed household my limited "collections" are housed on the dresser temporarily, but never seem to move on.
It would be nice to reach the plates more easily...
but should the match-strikers and Easter chicks go...
or the clockwork toys...
or the string holders and mice brooches?
In the end I decided I loved them all, washed and dusted everything which made us all feel happier and put the plates in a cupboard.
Being new to all this, please could I ask your advice. . .
When someone leaves a comment, is it preferable to reply on the post on which it was left, or go to the author's blogspot and leave an answer there?
Unfortunately, Lady Troubridge's Book of Etiquette, which is usually my fail-safe guide on all matters of manners has cast no light on this subject (although I have learnt how to write an appropriate reference for a slatternly kitchen maid!).
Martina is laying an egg every morning- thankyou so much Martina, it really is appreciated!
Hennypenny is trying very hard, noisily announcing that it will be arriving any minute. . .but after patiently sitting for an hour she gives up, tidies the henhouse (housework is high priority) and goes in search of a slug.
Our house is small and space is always at a premium when I have SUCH a hard time parting with some of the treasures I buy to sell.
Optimistically I call these things "stock in hand" and kid myself that I'm just waiting until the time is right. Right for what, I haven't quite decided.
I adore pictures, and use the excuse that taking them from the wall would show crumbling plaster and a slection of nail holes where they weren't positioned correctly at first (or second...) try, so it makes more sense to keep them in situ.
I don't think I fool anyone.
There are some softly coloured silks such as this flapper girl
and Moonlight Melodies by the Victorian artist WS Coleman, who painted the Flowers of the East Series, later used as Pears Prints.
Collages made from postage stamps, watercolour paints and antique textiles
Sweetly coloured prints by Margaret Tarrant who's one of my favourite artists
I love collections of similar things all grouped together
You've all been so kind and supportive with your encouraging messages for someone so utterly hopeless at grasping the finer points of setting up a blogspot.
I'd intended to spend today getting to grips with making the page look bright and interesting and instead have succumbed to a cold that I'd successfully managed to avoid all winter.
Navigating the keyboard while swaddled in eiderdowns and hotties is a feat even beyond me!
Until next week. . .
We'll never know how Hennypenny managed to escape when the battery chicken house was emptied.
Featherless and frightened she spent a rainy night in the field- terrifying for a hen who had never even seen the great outdoors!
Luckily she was found in the early morning light, but with a twisted and lifeless leg she hid in her box, grimly hanging-on to life but making little improvement, until a Reiki session with a gifted healer brought about subtle changes and she began her recovery in earnest.
Each day she stretched and preened as her feathers grew back and strength returned, but she was lonely. We tried her with other birds but they mercilessly pecked her comb. She couldn't live her life in solitude and we needed to find her a genteel "ladies companion". . .
Martina was 16 weeks old when she "jumped ship" en route from the chick-rearing unit to the battery house.
She boldly spent a week roosting in the hedge before being caught, and when I introduced her to Hennypenny it was a match made in heaven!
Martina takes her role of carer quite seriously, never letting the old hen out of her sight in the garden, and they chatter away non-stop. Henny cannot scratch for herself so she stands right behind Martina, and as the leaves and soil come flying backwards she dives in for the choicest morsels.
Martina painstakingly digs-out a fresh dustbath only to find Henny settling in, refusing to move despite voiciferous protests.
At night Henny pulls all the straw from Martina's nest to make her own, Martina takes it back again. . .and in the morning they're snuggled-up close together having decided a double bed is better by far than two singles!
Bruce is a 15.3hh Irish Sport Horse, 17 years old and I love him to bits!
I've always kept horses but after Teddy went 6 years ago, I decided to call it a day and just exercise for other people- giving me all the fun without the responsibility and time constraints horse owing brings!
I'd ridden Bruce some years back and was instantly smitten with his handsome appearance and huge personality.
Last spring he tore a tendon in his back leg, meaning he would no longer be suitable for his lifelong role of Gentleman's Hunter, and on hearing that his owner was looking for a retirement home, I heard a voice say "oh yes I'd love him" and realised that the voice was mine!
He has the build of a large cob, and just like all cobs his whole life is ruled by food. . .his waking thoughts are how soon breakfast will arrive, and he only sleeps when every scrap of hay has disappeared.
We've been gradually building up his fitness with physio, slow exercise, equine bodywork and healing, and so far he's sounder than we could hope for, and enjoying his new life as an object of love and devotion!