Wednesday, 26 November 2008

Nice sounds/ Baaaad sounds..

Things I love to hear...
snoring dogs contentedly snuffling away- dreaming of chasing squirrels in the park

Love a pooch with a big shnozz!

Things I don't love to hear...

Noisy next door builders with the drill of the devil...Aaaargh! It's like being inside a tooth at a visit to the dentist.. Sob sob,just want some quiet...

That's what I need!
here for pic

Tuesday, 25 November 2008

Journey to blog..

I can't quite remember how I discovered the wonderful world of blogging(kind of an ugly word for something that can be full of loveliness), but it must have been through one of the inspirational wedding planning websites that I soon became addicted to whilst planning our wedding.I would stay up for hours,my eyes getting squarer and squarer by the minute. And I am still a fully hooked wedding porn junkie despite getting married in July.I kid myself that it's kind of connected with my work but really I can't seem to tear myself away from looking at all the beautiful pictures and just all the gorgeousness!

I should be standing up saying 'Hi, my name's Flora and I'm a wedding porn addict' (Hi Flora!)

First of all there was this place and here where I made lots of like-minded pals and we discussed the big things and the not so big things like dressing dogs up as bridesmaids and what our theme tune that would accompany us through life.Mine would be this

And then, ooo, then I was introduced to the beautiful world of Snippet and Ink, with her colour co-ordinated, masterpieces of elegance and whimsy (ha,love that word)
Oh, to live in a S and I world with flowers and ribbons and swishy dresses- sigh..
These were the pictures that confirmed I wanted a Secret Garden/ Alice in Wonderland

And our tea party would definitely have a touch of the Mad Hatter about it..

From that point, I found myself whiling away the hours on the chain of blog, clicking through the lists on each page, finding new stories and pictures and pretty,pretty things that inspired me and drew sighs of admiration...or just raised a chuckle.

From peonies to something new,lobster and swann to weebirdy.

Wonderful tales from sexyredframe and guiltysecret and dreamy blooms from saipua.

And here because she had violets as her wedding bouquet and anyone that does that wins my heart.. 'Buy a flaawr from a pawr girl Mister?' That's why

It's been a blast.. So after the wedding was done, it felt like a project was needed and somehow all the joy I have got from reading these words made me want to join in too, and share the things that made me smile and swoon. So here I am, finding my way..

Thursday, 20 November 2008

My heart just skipped..


I just had minor heart failure as I saw the title of this blog listed on the side of the delightful peonies and poloroids under beautiful places and beneath my absolutely faaaavourite flower website in the whole world, saipua. Ooo what a thrill! What a compliment and what company to be amongst. Will have to keep my mad ramblings going now!

I am such a newbie to this game, it is taking me a while to get my luddite head round all the techie things to do- I am the girl that only got an email address 2 and a half years ago and entered the wonderful world of the interweb.

Peonies' world was amongst the first that I discovered and have had countless MOP's from reading the lovely words and drooling at lovely things! Her photographs suspend you in time, the moment captured and often the colours are like muted watercolours. I think I was enraptured by her wedding planning as it seemed to have many similar points of inspiration as mine. An outdoor ceremony in a beautiful garden and a bohemian style with garden flowers and cakestands.And this post contributed to our day directly as I bought the beautiful labels to use as name tags.
And seeing the story of her day unfold has been a joy.

I know it's just a small thing but it has made me very happy! When I rushed up to The Shoe bursting with the news, I don't think he really grasped how big it was... Humph-boys just have no idea sometimes!

Just popped over there and peony has written about the wedding ceremony, always my favourite part of a wedding. There hasn't been a poem for a while and this quirky one by W.H Auden would have brought a wry smile to what must have been a very moving ceremony.

Oh Tell Me The Truth About Love

Some say that love's a little boy,
And some say it's a bird,
Some say it makes the world go round,
And some say that's absurd,
And when I asked the man next-door,
Who looked as if he knew,
His wife got very cross indeed,
And said it wouldn't do.

Does it look like a pair of pyjamas,
Or the ham in a temperance hotel?
Does its odour remind one of llamas,
Or has it a comforting smell?
Is it prickly to touch as a hedge is,
Or soft as eiderdown fluff?
Is it sharp or quite smooth at the edges?
O tell me the truth about love.

Our history books refer to it
In cryptic little notes,
It's quite a common topic on
The Transatlantic boats;
I've found the subject mentioned in
Accounts of suicides,
And even seen it scribbled on
The backs of railway-guides.

Does it howl like a hungry Alsatian,
Or boom like a military band?
Could one give a first-rate imitation
On a saw or a Steinway Grand?
Is its singing at parties a riot?
Does it only like Classical stuff?
Will it stop when one wants to be quiet?
O tell me the truth about love.

I looked inside the summer-house;
it wasn't ever there:
I tried the Thames at Maidenhead,
And Brighton's bracing air.
I don't know what the blackbird sang,
Or what the tulip said;
But it wasn't in the chicken-run,
Or underneath the bed.

Can it pull extraordinary faces?
Is it usually sick on a swing?
Does it spend all its time at the races,
Or fiddling with pieces of string?
Has it views of its own about money?
Does it think Patriotism enough?
Are its stories vulgar but funny?
O tell me the truth about love.

When it comes, will it come without warning
Just as I'm picking my nose?
Will it knock on my door in the morning,
Or tread in the bus on my shoes?
Will it come like a change in the weather?
Will its greeting be courteous or rough?
Will it alter my life altogether?
O tell me the truth about love.

W.H Auden

Tuesday, 18 November 2008

The roses...

But the best bit about the fair was that two of the most wonderful suppliers of roses were there. Heaven! The Real Flower company grow beautiful garden roses with names like Just Joey, Margaret Merril, Deep Secret, all names I remember learning from my grandmother's garden. They had fabulously loose and blousy arrangements.The petals so silky soft and the flower heads with just the right wildness as if freshly picked from a clambering rambler in a secret garden.
Of course they were the flowers used in the beautiful bouquet on peoniesandpoloroids wedding day.All translucent pinks tied with silk.

I had hoped that these would be the roses I would have for our wedding but unfortunately the combination of rotten English weather and one of the country's largest flower shows being held the same weekend meant that there wasn't enough roses for little ol'me. I was heartbroken.... until our friend, Superflorist, who was in charge of ordering all our flowers told me that she had ordered replacements from David Austen.

I was sitting on a crowded rush hour train just four days before the wedding as she told me this news and I couldn't help yelping and doing a chair shuffle for joy as SF told me I would have to 'make do' with these stunning roses. And as I rushed over to the stand on saturday, I garbled to the assistant- 'these were my wedding roses' before burying my face in their frilly petals and drinking in the scent.It instantly took me back to the sunny day when I first saw them, waiting to be adored, in a grey plastic bucket, their heads wrapped up in tiny cardboard bonnets to protect the delicateness. I felt the rush of excitement again,I remembered breathing in the soft lemony scent of my wedding bouquet and my heart swelled with happiness. As we finally made our way out of the fair,I couldn't resist buying a bouquet of the white Patience roses to take home. The scent is drifting through the room like nectar and I'm drinking it in. It is the strongest reminder of our incredible wedding day I've had for many months.

Bliss is surely a rose's perfume.

(wedding pic by fwphotography, roses by David Austen)

all's Fair..

This weekend saw me and a couple of swishy pals,Frenchie and the Bombshell, journey to the Country Living fair. Organised by the magazine of the same name, we were most excited at the prospect of viewing,sampling and shopping all the variety of vintage style, homespun arty crafty wares and bought suitably stuffed purses bulging expectantly in our handbags. It was an epic journey round the variety of stands.From vintage fabrics, hand knitted cushions,rocking horses and retro toys,there were plenty of things to keep us entertained. The most random thing for sale was a birdbox fitted with a teeny tiny camera so you could watch the nesting bird and birdlettes on tv and from the comfort of your sofa. Kind of like Big Brother of the bird world..or I suppose Big Bird Brother. Although after installing the thing, how do you guarantee a bird chooses your hightech nest for it's home? With my luck, it would probably be a case of 'Day 53 in the Big bird box and there is no sign of any birds.But a leaf has blown in'
Surely even a bird needs some privacy!

Things I like

from here

Both from here
They do chickens too..

I still see things and think weddings. I love the leaf tealight holders, they would be perfect for an Autumnal table setting.

There was a lot of Granny-Chic going on at the fair. It's our new favourite style.

Hope and Benson
make these sweet bags and sell the clothes in their shop in Bristol. There was a wonderful knitted cushion which I didn't think I needed at the time, but keep thinking about.. oh well.

We came home laden with goodies.Well, apart from Frenchie. She just bought some sausages..

Monday, 10 November 2008


The loveliest thing about yesterday was driving through a copse of beautiful beech trees the colour of copper.And the light shone through them juuuust right. This picture is from a wonderful set taken at Burnham Beeches very near where I saw the trees. It's a place filled with ancient trees that have been coppiced making the trunks distort like something from a fairytale forest.

Photos from here

Sunday, 9 November 2008


This Sunday is Remembrance Sunday.It is such a humbling day. Watching the parade of 'old boys' as my granny calls them or seeing grainy footage from trenches or hospitals (always a jaunty grin and a cig hanging out of the mouth)- you can't help but gulp back the tears and feel the lightness of being alive just a touch more keenly.

There are just three veterans from the first world war still living, the youngest is 108 years old(yes that's right!!). He was interviewed on the radio and in a rasping voice he said that every day was remembrance day. How true that is, whether you have lost one person or a while battalion.
This poem is by Wilfred Owen who died one week before the end of war. His mother was told of his death on the very same day as Armistice was declared.

Move him into the sun -
Gently its touch awoke him once,
At home, whispering of fields unsown.
Always it woke him,
even in France,
Until this morning and this snow.
If anything might rouse him now
The kind old sun will know.

Think how it wakes the seeds -
Woke, once, the clays of a cold star.
Are limbs, so dear-acheived, are sides,
Full-nerved - still warm -
too hard to stir?
Was it for this the clay grew tall?

It is also a time full of memories for me as today is my lovely Pompa's Birthday, he would have been 98. He went into hospital this day last year and passed quietly away. Tomorrow will be Jerry's birthday- the two dates so close always and now we just have the memory of each.So strange how close it is to remembrance day..

Friday, 7 November 2008

feels like home...

At home, a red velvet throw over my curled up legs, a flat out pooch by my side. Randy Newman's on the telly singing 'Feels like home' and tears are in my eyes.

This makes my ever growing list of songs I wish we could have danced to or had in our ceremony. If I'd had my way, our wedding ceremony would have lasted for hours with all the poems and songs to illustrate our feelings.
I heard this song the night I met The Shoe. After our amazing encounter we said our goodbyes and I headed home to my little terraced house that was my haven.I awoke in the night,sleeping the light sleep of a boozed-up gal and this was playing on the radio.. As I listened to it's melody and the lyrics drifted over me- in that timeless middle of the night state I didn't realise quite how prophetic the song was and how my life would change.

Wednesday, 5 November 2008

one day,maybe...

Having been rather scathing about voter apathy over here,there are things to be thankful for. Before entering into the blog world, I had no idea about prop8 ,it has had no coverage in the media in the UK. But I have no doubt that we would never see the reaction to same sex marriage that resulted with the passing of the ban in California,Arkansas and Florida. The clunky sounding Civil Partnerships have been readily accepted into everyday life and wedding jargon and because of work I have played at many ceremonies and attended weddings of my friends. And thank Judy for it.
It is so infuriating that some couples are able to openly celebrate their relationship and 'the state' has the audacity to snub others.It is a disgrace.When I heard the result,I felt so guilty at having had the privilege to marry my chosen partner when so many cannot. Amidst all the election joy,the irony of celebrating one amazing achievement for civil liberties whilst this travesty occurred on the same day bought a cloud to the clear blue skies. It will change I am sure,but unfortunately it is going in small steps.
The gay weddings I have been part of have been amongst the most moving ceremonies because they have a value beyond that of other ceremonies. Of course all weddings are glorious events but there is just an indefinable extra something...A final acceptance and public confirmation of their relationship.

My two friends had this read out at their ceremony last year. It was perfect.
The song lyric by Cole Porter 'I am Loved'

Yesterday was a dull day,
Yesterday was a grey day,
But,oh,today,today is a gay day
You ask me darling,why?
And I answer,
I am loved,I am loved,
By the one I love in every way,
I am loved,absolutely loved,
What a wonderful thing to be able to say.

I am adored, I am adored,
By the one who first led my heart astray,
I am adored,absolutely adored,
What a wonderful thing to be able to say.

So ring out the bells and let the trumpets blow
And beat on the drums for now I know
I know I am loved ,I am loved,
What a wonderful thing,what a glorious thing
What a beautiful thing to be able to say
I am loved.


OK so sometimes it is about the big things!
I know, originally I intended it just to be the little things that make me happy but there are some things that need to be noted and today, happens to be one of those days that has affected people all around the world. Millions of people. And all I can say is Hooray! I have heard radio presenters struggle with words as they choke back the tears and seen the euphoria of enormous crowds, jubilant and incredulous that sometimes,just sometimes good things do happen.
I have been amazed by the huge queues of voters snaking along the streets. If only we could see the same excitement in this country. What a wonderful world that might the song almost goes.

Tuesday, 4 November 2008

The thing with feathers....

As Emily Dickinson says, is Hope.

It's an electric feeling when a day feels like history is being made within it's hours and minutes and seconds. Through the small x marked with a stubby pencil, or how a perforated tab is torn,the world changes.
We can all 'hope' that this will be the start of great things,for individuals,communities and countries.
I remember this same feeling on a balmy May evening back in 97,sitting with friends, meeting strangers, merry with hope and anticipation.There was such optimism and actual joy in the air,I'm sure people were almost dancing down the street. We all quickly asked each other 'have you voted?, have you voted?'and rushed home when the results started to come in. It did feel like a new beginning.I won't dwell on what the hope turned into, for fear of tainting it but that's the glory of now. It is all in the expectation.

Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.

I've heard it in the chillest land,
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.

Emily Dickinson

We all wait with hope in our soul as the feathered thing takes flight.

The first moment...

So, I have taken the plunge...
A place to think, to smile, to bring light to my days and to find moments that make my heart sing.

As music flows through me, the inspiration came from a song. One of the most heart-achingly beautiful songs I know. One that I can never hear just once but press replay as the strings fade for as long as I can bear it. An under the skin song that travels with you, the melody and intensity filling your ears. I love it so-

I had never seen the video before, it reminds me of the jewelry boxes I had as a girl,Kate as the ballerina whirling around.
And the line 'Every old sock meets an old shoe- Ain't that a great saying?'

I always wanted to meet my old shoe. I think I have.