Imitation of life

Isn't it funny how time seems to fly by even faster in these pandemic times? Well, at least it does to me. Perhaps this is due to the fact that I'm working less hours, which results in strangely stunted weeks, interrupted by my two office days.
Whatever the case, it is almost beyond comprehension that tomorrow we will be bidding farewell to the fair month of May, and herald the coming of the first Summer month on Monday.

As traditionally June is our holiday month, the next few weeks will be a bit of a bitter pill to swallow. I'm not really feeling the need for time off as I've actually already been on a semi-staycation for two months. Therefore I have cancelled the two-week holiday I'd chalked in, preferring to keep those precious days for better times, when they eventually come.

We have also managed to change our UK holiday cottage booking to next June without any cost.

For now, I am continuing the pandemic diaries, for which I'm taking you back to Friday before last.

After Thursday's hot Summer weather, we woke up to a moody grey sky accompanied by muggy temperatures on Friday. By the time we'd finished breakfast, however, the sun had made one or two brief appearances. She even accompanied us on a walk into the village. While I visited the organic grocery shop, Jos went to pick up a newspaper for us as well as for our elderly neighbour, at the newsagent's around the corner. 

These errands finished, we walked along the high street to a shop selling all manner of homewares. At this time of year, they often stock garden items, so we wanted to see whether they had a small garden table and two chairs for our little courtyard. There was a queue, which would have made us turn heel, if we hadn't spotted the exact thing we were looking for in their window. Turned out that they were having a clearance sale - hence the queue - so that we were able to buy this lovely yellow set at half price. Result!

Hating the sight of the ugly white plastic parasol stand - a welcome gift from  a friend - I made it a cover by cutting up a never-used grey polka dot rain poncho bought in Bruges (top right) while on the bottom right you can see the famous solar powered garden spot, which we put in an abandoned pot, its soil covered with a generous layer of marbles.

Soon after these photos were taken, it started pelting down, but not before I'd positioned the pots of plants we'd bought on Tuesday into their planned future spots.

Oh, Phoebe, what will people think when they see you splayed out like that? Do think of your reputation! 

The Nasturtiums I sowed have all come up, both the ones in the biodegradable pots and toilet roll and the ones I sowed around the wire obelisk in my new border. 

It cleared up again by evening, enabling us to take some outfit photos. 

First wear for this vintage, red floral, butterfly winged frock. Judging from its label, it was made for me, as it's got my name on it: Lady ❤ Ann!

I pinned a pale green flower posy brooch to it and wore a darker green beaded necklace as well as an ivory coloured plastic bangle and a flower painted wooden one.

We were treated to a truly spectacular sunset that night, which I watched and photographed from our kitchen window.

Look at that amazing pink and indigo sky, blending and dissolving like clouds of paint into a glass of water, illuminating the garden with a magical glow.

Then, as the sun kept sinking lower, it set the sky on fire with a luminous blend of tangerines and oranges.

Sights like these make it even harder to fathom that all's not right with the world at large.

Saturday's weather was another blend of sunshine and clouds. Another day of pottering and watering, a task which - as remarked upon by Vix - seems to be taking longer every day. Not surprisingly, with the rate at which we've been adding more and more plants to our collection.

With the chronic lack of rain, there's talk of water shortage ahead, but we are lucky to be blessed with a water well, from which we can pump up fresh and cool water by way of a hand-pump in our bathroom. A bit cumbersome, with the pump itself being a bit of a hindrance from time to time, but at least we are able to save on mains water for quenching our garden's thirst.

I was wearing a vintage C&A faux-patchwork dress in blues, oranges and yellows. A charity shop find at the tail end of last Summer, I only wore it once before putting it into hibernation.

Again, it fit me better than it did last September, as I seem to have definitely lost some inches on my hips and waistline. 

I spent the afternoon planting out our latest acquisitions in their designated places, so that the new border has now been extended with both Oriental and Iceland poppies, Lamb's Ear, Penstemons and another Erigeron or Mexican fleabane, which I'd cheekily added to our cart on Tuesday.

The two wire structures (actually upside down plant hangers) next to the Penstemons have been put there to deter Phoebe from doing naughty business in that particular spot.

While I was digging up the border to accommodate the Penstemons, my trowel hit what at first looked like a flat reddish stone. Digging it up, it turned out to be a stone toadstool head. I'd never seen it before, so it must have been there since before we bought the house. It actually felt as if I'd found treasure!  After a good wash to remove most of the soil, it is now taking pride of place between the two lost-and-found bunnies. I loved the shade thrown on it by one of the Erigeron flowers!

The temperature had skydived on Sunday, leaving us with cold and windy weather.

With nothing to tempt me outside, I thought it was time for a bit of ironing. I'd been adding to my ironing pile for a couple of months, always finding another, more pleasurable job, to do instead.

It turned out not to be too bad, with a CD of soothing classical music playing in the background, but I was still glad it was finished.

Afterwards, I was still on a roll, so I decided to strike the iron while it was hot  - pun totally unintentional - and continue with the cleaning extravaganza.

Having left the kitchen behind me, it was now time for the adjoining dining room, starting with the 1930s display cupboard we scored for next to nothing in a charity shop about six years ago.

The beautifully decorated wooden panels at the bottom of its doors hide a multitude of sins. But it's the top half which, apart from the bevelled glass door panels, has glassed sides as well as a mirrored back, that holds some of our most precious treasures.

There's the blue Heatmaster tea set with its typical chrome insulated covers, picked up in a charity shop in Aberaeron, Wales, in 2015. We'd left it behind on a Saturday, regretted it on a Sunday, and made a one-hour round trip to buy it on a Monday.

Another Welsh souvenir, the 1930s green glass vanity set was a Cardigan car boot sale find on the first day of our holidays that same year.

The two tiny glasses in front of it (top right) are vintage eye baths from a local flea market.

This ornately decorated Art Deco style vanity set is made from so-called depression glass. It was love at first sight when we spotted it at an outdoor flea market in September 2014. We were amazed the asking price was only € 12.

By then, I'd run out of steam, so the Bakelite in the final compartment will be for another time.

It had turned even cooler in the meantime, accompanied by the odd drop of rain, so that I couldn't be persuaded outside for outfit photos.

Bar the top - I was wearing a green short-sleeved jumper on Sunday - I wore the outfit again on Monday, when the sunny weather had made a return.

I topped the Art Deco print white, green, yellow and navy pleated skirt with a a green polka dot peplum top, one of my all-time favourites. The finishing touches were a navy and white beaded necklace and a vintage brooch, its flowers made from tiny plastic beads.

More home and garden adventures to come in my next post. I hope to see you again, but in the meantime, please do stay safe!