So I bought an orange. A while ago. It sat in the kitchen for some time, moving between the fruit bowl, by the tea bags, on top of the tea bags, next to the popcorn and then over the sugar. It got around.

The thing is: I don’t eat oranges. I don’t like them. Never have. Not since I wanted one as a child – “ooh, bright, dimply pimply thing” – and my Dad made me eat it, bit by bit by bit, all the while the fleshy pithy orangeness churned around my mouth like cud.

I just hadn’t expected it to be so chewy; so bloody unpalatable. But it was. And I was stuck with it for my childish yearning.

Ever since then the mere hint of anything from the general Family of Orange (clementines, tangerines – how does anyone ever tell the difference?)  has been avoided in general. When people eat oranges near me, or I see their pathetic white peel with its stringy segmentations, I cringe inwardly and scarper.

That was up until last year, when dining in an Indian restaurant, the waiter brought a plate of juicy looking segments with the hot flannels. After the spicy richness of a bhoona there was something so refreshingly zesty about a bright beacon of orangeness. And I quickly realised that under such circumstances, it was quite acceptable to delicately suck a segment rather than attempt to peel the peel with bare hands.

So I gave it a go. I did it. I’d never had a problem with orange juice, and I LOVED it; I wanted it ALL!

Since then, I have cautiously approached the orange aisle in the supermarket, and bought the occasional orange to enjoy after a meal in a palette-refreshing way. And it was in this way I ended up with a stray orange nestled atop the Kilner jars in the kitchen.

I eyed it suspiciously and day after day, decided I would have it the next. I couldn’t remember if it had been there since Dad visited in September, but then surely he would have eaten it himself? Then I started to worry if it was past its best. Gone, over, sour.

The curious thing is it didn’t seem to age. No mould ever formed on its robust and taught skin. Lemons – you know where you are with them because they quickly mould over if you aren’t watching. This orange was different: even after I took its photo, I left it for another week or so. Still nothing. And this time I was counting, scrutinising, supervising the situation.

Finally, yesterday, although it seemed to look ‘OK’, I decided that enough was enough and the consumption of fruit beyond three months old was not decent for 2012.

I threw it in the bin and vowed never to buy another orange ever again.

I should have drowned it in the mulled wine while I had the chance.

2 Comments | In: Lifestyle, Rebecca, Trends | tags: clementines, food fears, orange, oranges, segments, tangerines, zest. | #

So, after beating Nano and writing a huge chunk of my first novel (using none of the ideas I had previously been working on…), it’s time to switch my attention to the business of selling. As well as my Dainty Dora shop on Folksy, I have a whole weekend of selling lined up. Yes – me in person, selling. It’s been a while.

First up, Make Do & Mend at Platform, Easterhouse on Saturday 3rd December from 11am – 3pm. A super fantastic venue, a vintage vibe, a production of ‘A Victorian Christmas’, a vibrant cafe and a multitude of stalls selling wonderful wares – a top day out for sure.

Find me with my oh-so-popular handmade button brooches, vintage domino brooches, corsages, fabric necklaces, maybe a fascinator or two…AND a selection of beautiful hand knitted baby blankets, cardigans and booties by my very own Mum:) She is always in demand for her knitting!

Oh yeah. See you there for some crafty chit-chat and a chance to bag some unique, handmade gifts for that Christmas stocking.

All the deets are here. Ooh, nice stand, who made all those amazing items? I wonder….

 

*** AND IF THAT WASN’T ENOUGH ***

 

The following day – Sunday 4th December – will find me setting up stall for the very first time at the brilliant Little Birds Market at Sloans off Buchanan Street/Argyle Street. That’s INSIDE out of the rain and the wind, in the stunning ballroom upstairs. It’s a regular indoor market and I’m very excited about my debut, just in time for Christmas. There will be some amazing goodies, surprise gifts and treats on the day. Fabulous. 12noon – 5pm.

Hope to see you at one of these events next weekend, which both have totally FREE ENTRY!

Rebecca x

No Comments | In: Lifestyle, Shopping, Trends | tags: christmas market, easterhouse, gifts, glasgow, little birds, little birds market, make do and mend, platform, Shopping, sloans, treats, vintage. | #

It’s there. In the garden. All bright and exciting and new and smelling of delicate cedars and pine and cherry like the inside of a sauna. I keep peeping out of the window to check it is still there. It is.

‘Operation Shed’ has been some time in the planning. From the realisation that the old shed – huge and spacious with all the little nails and hooks you could ask for – had two major flaws:

• It was built right next to the hedge, allowing dampness to conduct from the hedge to the shed every time it rained. Which was a lot.
• The roof was a ‘pent’ roof and had not been assembled correctly so was not at the optimal slant for drainage. Oh dear.

It all added up to a damp, slightly mouldy shed, threatening the sensitive equilibrium of the few things we kept in there…like the mower and the toolbox. It had to go.

Malleted down with force by husband (with help from my Dad), by some miracle our adjoining neighbour wanted to take it off our hands. Result! It was duly hauled over the hedge by the heft and flurry of his five brothers, leaving us with a nice square patch for the new arrival. Except underneath wasn’t a level base so we then had to buy, transport and shovel over half a tonne of builders gravel. We won’t mention that here…

The morning of ‘Shed Day’, I was ready with my paintbrush to get going straight away. Choosing the colour scheme had been such a difficult decision, but after debating between ‘Jack’s Potting Shed’, ‘Mary’s Watering Can’ and ‘Thomas’ Beehive’, we finally agreed on ‘Sea Holly’ from a totally different range of paint. Sorry Jack et al. Perhaps in another life?

It was only after I had done the first coat that I realised Sea Holly was pretty much identical to the colour of the feature wall in the bathroom. I really love deep, mystical turquoise – what can I say?

The inside was to be Thomas’ Beehive, a frothy primrose yellow (following a suggestion by my good friend Cara to up the ante on the interior shed decor), but when I looked at the smooth lines of the wood inside, the delicate finish, breathed in the delicious and somewhat intoxicating scent of new wood, I couldn’t do it. So the natural look prevails.

I laboured over two coats of Sea Holly, leaving the trim around the top and the window to be picked out in a contrast colour. Husband and I both decided a vibrant red would be the way to go, only to find that red isn’t an option for outdoor wood. It’s all about blending in with nature and muted garden tones. Right then. So a deep autumnal ‘Berry’ it was. And I am delighted with the result:)

There are no shelves up or anything yet, and the tools need to be hung nicely from well-positioned nails, but I thought that would be a nice job to embark upon with my Dad. Right Dad? You’re coming up for a visit soon aren’t you? Dad…

NB. For anyone wondering why on earth I would keep a broken teapot, it is because I have ’A Plan’ for it. A plan involving some kind of mosaic doorstep thing with plaster or cement or something. And I like the pretty colours and can’t bear to part with it. How often do you see a banana-print teapot anyway? That’s what my Mother said when she decided she really wanted it. For her birthday. So I secretly bought it for and she was delighted. So much so that when she made her first pot of tea in it, she forgot to empty it out and we just admired it on a shelf for weeks, probably months, until we wondered what the smell was. It was remnants of tea and teabags turned into a mini-mouldy-tea-compost. It was never used as a teapot again, for obvious reasons. Then the handle got broken off. And now it is destined to be turned into some crazy, haphazard doorstep mosaic; preserved and trodden on for the rest of its sad yellow life. Bananas!

4 Comments | In: Lifestyle, Trends | tags: berry, garden, new shed, paint, sea holly, shed, turquoise, wood. | #

What does the colour red make you think of? It makes me think of a big, blank empty screen. Like when you shut your eyes against the sun and your eyelids glow red inside.

Red makes me think of the word ‘vermillion’ and an all-consuming passion, or maybe just Mars. The fiery planet. How cliche, how stereotypical! Fire Engine red, Post Office red.

Maybe the reddest of red lipstick you’ve ever seen; a red gulf of glistening red micro-beads that last all day, reflecting red beams of light back into the atmosphere. An aura of red around the red-lipped wearer. Red lipstick stains on a white coffee mug or transparent glass or a cheating collar. Red lips. All consuming lips. The colour red and the all-consuming lips of red.

Is any other colour so evocative, so powerful, so in your face as red? It has passion and love and the G-force of its pigment driving it on, forcing it into the consciousness of all, making it memorable.

It’s the colour of danger and the red triangle of warning.

Monosyllabic, simple yet complicated. Roses and poison and hearts and love.

It is the colour of hell and the Scarlet Woman and harlotry and evil. The red devil reigns on in riotus red!

A primary colour, it is cheerful and vibrant and perfect for the festive season. The Crimson Petal and The White, it sits well against the purity of snow but is a crime when coupled with green.

It is a shepard’s warning and the hot, sticky night as the ball of red fire sets in the sky, rippling its death-dance daggers into the horizon.

It is the colour of heat and the opposite of cold. It smacks of sex and adultery and illicit adventure. Long red talons like the bloody claws of a bird of prey.

Glamour and wealth and cheap slutty hooker traits and the grotesque macabre of a clown’s oversized nose. Regal, royal, religious, poppy-seeded hope in a field of faded faces.

Red hair framing a porcelain complexion, or the bullying taunts of being ginger?

It is popular, understood and available. It turns heads and rages ferociously, from nowhere, when emotions collide. Slide. Dangerously. Vindictive, harmful, won’t ever stop until the battle is won. Draws blood. Thick red blood that won’t stop. Congealed life. A pin-prick or a stab wound.

Ludicrous, loud and it won’t go away; can’t get rid of the stain.

Red is volatile. Be careful with it.

No Comments | In: Trends, Writing | tags: anger, colour, danger, devil, heat, hell, hot, love, passion, pigment, red, scarlet, vermillion, warning. | #

After an inspiring and thought-provoking day at the Write Now Writing Conference at Strathclyde University - complete with delicious home-baking and coloured badges – I felt compelled to share this little gem that I ‘found’ last year using random words from my husband’s favourite computing magazine, Linux.

Found Poetry is such an interesting subject and a clever, accessible intro to the world of poetry which can sometimes seem an elitist club for the few who can master Haiku and Pantoums and the inexplicable ins and outs of rhythm, rhyme, assonance, alliteration and allegory.

The concept was first introduced to me when doing an online evening class in Creative Writing, also at Strathclyde.

The idea was to pick words/phrases at random from a magazine you wouldn’t normally read, and shape them, mould them and form them into something resembling a poem, all without thinking too much about it. It’s the ‘freeing up’ of the mind that is the focus, the process, rather than the end result. Though the end result can actually be rather interesting in itself…

The Back-Up

The back-up.

It’s exactly unclear. Rubbish!

Two connections I have witnessed:

Reboot. Gesture. Reboot.

Unclear? Exactly.

Make voice calls. Gesture. Reboot.

The foot won.

I have witnessed the back-up.

Two connections made me

think it’s exactly unclear.

The back-up.

No Comments | In: Lifestyle, Trends, Writing | tags: creative writing, creativity, found poetry, glasgow, linux, linux magazine, magazine, poems, poetry, random words, strathclyde university, university of strathclyde, words, write now, writing. | #

Striking new designs spanning elegance, sophistication, bridal, pretty, sweet and fun from the Dainty Dora Shop in Folksy. A pick of the favs:

No Comments | In: Shopping, Trends, Wannabe Journalist | tags: accessory, bridal, brooch, buttoniere, corsage brooch, dainty dora, elegant, fabric, fashion, folksy, fun, necklace, pin, sophisticated, summer, wedding. | #

Now I know this train of thought is a little over the top, but a few weeks ago sitting in Morrison’s Cafe down the road, it is how I felt. Don’t get me wrong – the cafe is great. The perfect hangover cure, they do all day breakfasts, their prawn salad is spot on, generous portions, speedy service as you would expect. But somehow, when my Husband decided to buy a packet of pre-buttered sliced white bread to accompany his breakfast, I felt an incontrollable Look Of Disgust creep across my face.

I tend not to eat white bread myself, seeing as it makes you tired via the spiking of blood sugars and all other manner of digestive ills. Now and then I don’t mind it toasted if it’s there, in front of me. Buttered and warm and smelling that delicious buttered toast way.

But this sad little packet seemed to stand for all that is wrong with the world – war, famine, fraud, lying, cheating, alcohol abuse, pet abuse, terrorists and all manner of other terrible iniquities. Perhaps the beige-gray marble effect of the plastic table didn’t help. The bolted down picnic-style seats. Is it just me? Maybe I was having a bad day.

*NB. I still LOVE Morrisons Cafe and Husband enjoyed the bread tremendously, and will likely buy it again. It was fresh and tasted nice. “Leave my bread alone! There’s nothing wrong with the bloody bread!”, was his only defence.

No Comments | In: Lifestyle, Trends, Wannabe Journalist | tags: bread, bread makes you tired, buttered bread, morrisons cafe, sliced bread, sugar spikes, white bread. | #

Just had to share these amazing eyelashes with one and all. They are made of paper and come in an array of intricate designs, all with a symbolic Chinese meaning. I’ve been talking about them for weeks, but I had to keep my sources secret until I had stolen the show at my party of course. I saw them months ago, featured in Stylist magazine, and ferreted the details away for just the right opportunity to dazzle. Like my 30th birthday party.

Read more …

No Comments | In: Shopping, Trends, Wannabe Journalist | tags: eyelashes, horses, paper, paperself, party, ting yu wang, zebras. | #

Totally LOVE this dress – where can I get it? Why are there no UK stockists for a designer who studied in Glasgow and London?! It’s Louise Gray, Spring/Summer ’11…

(ps. stole this pic from the Louise Gray website oops)

No Comments | In: Shopping, Trends, Wannabe Journalist | tags: 2011, catwalk, designer, dress, louise gray, spring, ss11, summer. | #

I have started 2011 with a new, slightly dangerous addiction. The events preceding this addiction, that facilitated it really, were set in motion about 10 or 12 years ago, maybe more. See Archives of a Decade for a detailed background.

Totally out of control, and struggling to make sense of how to organise my cuttings and categories into an easily searched, neatly stored ‘library’ of information, I decided to make a cup of tea. A pot in fact. A nice pot of jasmine pearl tea.

After swirling my fragrant and refreshing tea for some time, I realised that the best way to display my favourite fashion and interiors spreads was in a scrapbook. It’s what I did at college, albeit with a purpose in mind, whiling away my afternoons ‘sourcing’ looks from magazines to evoke a particular trend or mood. What a stellar idea!

Read more …

No Comments | In: Lifestyle, Rebecca, Trends | tags: archiving, cuttings, library, paper, scrap-booking, scrapbook, scrapbooking, sorting, sourcebooks. | #