Long To RAIN Over Us!

So we didn't go to the Big Lunch. Rain stopped play. To celebrate the Jubilee we went to my mum's and had a super Sunday lunch. My dad was going to pick the girls up early, whilst I made the above patriotic pav, so that they could join in with the Jubilee treasure hunt that was being held in mum and dad's village (the parentals no longer live in Spain). However, the heavens opened and the treasure hunt was abandoned. But we had a lovely family time despite the weather. Lots of roast potatoes and laughter and a big, creamy pudding. Then my dad lit the woodburner and we turned on the telly and watched an 85 year old woman travel up the Thames on a barge, getting frozen to the bone. This is what it means to be British. God save the Queen.

That Ain't Even Funny, Albert!

My maternal grandfather had a talent for writing rude poetry. He once changed the lyrics to the whole of Perry Como's "Magic Moments" and would regale us kids with this magnum opus as often as the mood would take him, which was often, because he loved getting a laugh out of us. Needless to say, it was full of the kind of double entendre we didn't understand but thought hilarious. My nan, however, understood it thoroughly and would storm into the room and shout, "that ain't even funny, Albert." 

Why am I blogging about this? Well, yesterday I came back from auction and unpacked a box of silver plate and found this pheasant. Almost immediately I was transported back thirty years or so to my nan's front room and my granddad and my uncle Reg saying this tongue twister:

I'm not a pheasant plucker,

I'm the pheasant plucker's son.

I'm only plucking pheasants till the pheasant plucker comes.

My nan was so incensed that she hit them both with a stick. Now, that really ain't funny, Albert.

Jubilation

I really like the Queen, for quite serious reasons to do with cultural identity and so on, but mostly because I have a soft spot for posh old ladies. Basically, I like the Queen because she is proper and does things properly, including the Daily Telegraph crossword  - and I'm quite a crossword fan. However, when it comes to the Jubilee I feel a bit stuck. Quite a few of the school-gate-mums are talking about the street parties they've been organising, I don't want to organise a street party, I don't have the energy and I can't gatecrash one of their street parties because I've been out of the school-gate-mum loop for over two years - stuck in the hinterland of after-school-club mum (not a community, not a clique, but a harried collective wafting of guilt, oestrogen and ready meals). I do feel that I should do something to celebrate the Jubilee properly because it is a real opportunity to be part of a community and enjoy a collective sense of Britishness, I also thinks it's a wonderful opportunity to create a family memory.

My youngest child is full of Jubilee fever. She's just joined the Brownies and is taking her Brownie promise seriously!

I promise that I will do my best,

To love my God,

To serve the Queen and my country,

To help other people,

And to keep the Brownie Guide Law.

To be honest, I enjoy her earnestness and I admire the Brownie promise so I am curbing my natural inclination towards flippancy and I'm taking her patriotism and interest quite seriously. The eldest girl has no interest in the Jubilee whats so ever. She is now 14 and has the kind of social life her dad and I both facilitate and admire - but, and it's a big but, what she loves most of all is doing "nice things as a family." So, I feel that how we celebrate the Jubilee is something of a responsibility and I have come to a few decisions on what we're going to do.

First, I'm going to buy the youngest a really nice scrap book. She can fill it with photos and articles and anything else she sees fit to pop in there. I'm also going to buy the girls one bit of memorabilia - probably a nice mug! Then, we're going to take part in the National Trust's Big Lunch. On the Monday, we'll go to our local pick-your-own and then make some Jubilee jam. I'm trying to keep it simple, not too costly, but still fun and memorable. I'm off now to find some nice picnic recipes and perhaps some old Coronation mugs from my stash of eBay stock to take with us on the Big Lunch.

Oh, and here's another thought. During the Coronation, my gran must have been very heavily pregnant as my mum is 60 on June 8th - I don't think anyone in the family realised that she was a Coronation baby until now!

Proceed Carefully and Methodically

It's a good job that Mrs Much, our permanently pre-menstrual rabbit, is sunning herself in the garden at the moment. If she catches me watching this she'll be in  a right huff.

Random bits that I enjoyed when watching this film are:

• the "country woman"'s skill with a knife.
• Her lovely big pie dish.
• Her willow pattern china...I sell a lot of 1930s willow pattern.
• Her very unflattering 1930s hair do.

Fun with Power Tools

Do you like my arty photo? It's hardly of the Pleasant View Schoolhouse standard, but I am trying. Anyway, you may have seen similar mismatched china cake stands around on vintage markets and fairs, they actually cost quite a bit of money to buy, but the average gal can make them quite easily and cheaply if they have a drill and the right fittings.

I made these with the youngest girl this weekend. I have an awful lot of spare plates knocking around the place - it's a by-product of buying antiques at auction as a job lot, there's always a plate or two you don't know quite what to do with. We chose plates that went well together - they don't have to match, but they do have to have the right kind of ratio (see photo below).

Then, buy yourself some cake stand fittings from ebay. You just have to search it and tons will pop up. You may also need a tile/glass bit for your drill.

You have to find the centre of each plate, stick a little masking tape over the centre mark, drill a hole into the plate (my DH said, "apply a firm pressure, but don't press too hard." However, I have the upper body strength of a newly fledged pigeon so had to press with all my might.) and next, screw your fitting as per the instructions on the kit - or just use your common sense.

Et voila! Cake stand a go go.

You may ask yourself, "Dulce Domum, what on God's green earth are you going to do with four cake stands?" and you'd be right in asking. First, I'm going to try to flog them. However, my ebay shop is more traditional antiques than fun vintage-y things - and I doubt if I'll get any takers. So, if all else fails, I'm going to use them during the Jubilee celebrations (they're mostly red, white and blue). The minor snag to that idea is that I have no idea what to do for the Jubilee. I did say to the DH that I'd like to drink Gin and Dubonnet (Her Majesty's favourite tipple) in honour of her long and glorious reign, but feel there needs to be more to the whole shebang than me getting squiffy on upper class booze. The sensible thing to do is to share the upper class booze and invite friends round for a bit of a garden party, which is where the patriotic cake stands come in.

Anyway, I have this week's sales to wrap up and post before I pick the kids up for their orthodontists appointment, so I must drag my ample behind off the blogosphere.

Anon, gentle reader. Anon!

In Praise of Unhistoric Acts

"...the growing good of the world is partly dependent on unhistoric acts; and that things are not so ill with you or me as they might have been, is half owing to the number who lived faithfully a hidden life and rest in unvisited tombs." George Eliot, Middlemarch, 1871.

Ah, George Eliot. She knew a thing or two about human nature and this quote from Middlemarch seems strangely prescient to me. We live in times where young people inhabit a country in which riches and celebrity are exhalted, regardless of whether the riches and celebrity are earned, and where older people are endlessly told to "follow their dreams". The wish to lead a quiet, good life is seen as a singular and counter cultural lack of ambition, however our culture was once dominated those who lived faithfully a hidden life so that others may live a good life, and those were the days when people didn't lock their doors at night.

Here endeth the lesson.

What Ho Bloggers of My Bosom!

Just to let you know, there may be more activity chez domum in the coming weeks - largely thanks to my online emporium, which you can visit here.