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This is a vintage pitcher that is over 50 years old. I have the matching vase and pitcher. I think my Mom also had a square candy dish but that is no longer around.
Paint I used for kitchen drawers. And well - being an artist it allows me to hide behind that and be messy... to a point.
The Our Daily Challenge group has chosen Bathroom decor as today's topic.
The Looking close … on Friday group has chosen Different shades of green this week.
Wickham Place is the London home of Lord and Lady Southgate, their children and staff. Located in fashionable Belgravia it is a fine Georgian terrace house.
Today we are below stairs in the Wickham Place kitchen. The Wickham Place kitchens are situated on the ground floor of Wickham Place, adjoining the Butler’s Pantry. It is dominated by big black leaded range, and next to it stands a heavy dark wood dresser that has been there for as long as anyone can remember. In the middle of the kitchen stands Cook’s preserve, the pine deal table on which she does most of her preparation for both the meals served to the family upstairs and those for the downstairs staff. And here we are before the range at the pine deal table where Mrs. Bradley the Cook is going to give her scullery maid another cooking lesson by having her prepare vegetable consommé for the second course for the upstairs dinner this evening.
“Agnes. Agnes.”
“Yes, Mrs. Bradley?” Agnes scurries over from the sink.
“I think you’ve earned the right for another cooking lesson.”
“Oh! Oh really Mrs. Bradley! Your famous soufflé?”
“Heavens girl!” the older woman cries, throwing her careworn hands in the air. “Do you really think me a loon? I’ve told you before. You need to learn the basics of plain cooking before I can teach you anything fancy. And a clear consommé of vegetables will be fancy enough for you.”
“That sounds very fancy Mrs. Bradley.”
“That’s because them who eat upstairs,” she raises her eyes to the ceiling. “Like their fancy names for their finely cut vegetable soup.”
“Vegetable soup, Mrs. Bradley?” Agnes’ shoulders slump.
“Now! Now! Buck up my girl!” the Cook says as she steps towards her enormous range to stir a pot over the flame with her wooden spoon. “Don’t think of it as vegetable soup. Think of it as,” She flourishes her spoon through the air. “Consommé.”
Agnes goes to the pine deal dresser on the left hand side of the range an takes out the big copper stock pot and under Mrs. Bradley’s instruction, fetches carrots, parsnips, potatoes, onions, leek, a clove of garlic and thinking it might also go in, a radish.
“Did I say a radish, girl?”
“No Mrs. Bradley.”
“No radish in vegetable consommé, Agnes.”
“But it’s a vegetable, Mrs. Bradley.”
“So’s an artichoke, but you aren’t putting that into it either girl!”
“No Mrs. Bradley.” Agnes says with an apologetic tone.
“Now, get chopping girl! Small pieces mind. We don’t want upstairs choking on big chunks of potato, now do we?”
“No, Mrs. Bradley.”
The theme for the 11th of September “Looking Close… on Friday” is “vegetables”. This tableaux is made up of part of my 1:12 size dollhouse miniatures collection. Some pieces come from my own childhood like the ladderback chair and the teapot on the dresser in the background. Other items I acquired as an adult through specialist online dealers and artists who specialise in 1:12 miniatures.
Fun things to look for in this tableaux include:
All the vegetables and garlic clove seen on Cook’s deal table are artisan miniatures from a specialist stockist of food stuffs from Kettering in England, as are the onions hanging to the right of the range. He has a dizzying array of meals which is always growing, and all are made entirely or put together by hand, so each item is individual.
The kitchen knife with its inlaid handle and sharpened blade comes from English miniatures specialist Doreen Jeffries Small Wonders Miniature store.
The copper stock pot, the copper pan and the pots on the range in the background are all made of real copper and come from various miniature stockists in England and America.
In front of stock pot containing carrots and parsnips is one of Cook’s Cornishware white and blue striped bowls. One of her Cornishware cannisters stands to the left of the pot. Cornishware is a striped kitchenware brand trademarked to and manufactured by T.G. Green & Co Ltd. Originally introduced in the 1920s and manufactured in Church Gresley, Derbyshire, it was a huge success for the company and in the succeeding 30 years it was exported around the world. The company ceased production in June 2007 when the factory closed under the ownership of parent company, The Tableshop Group. The range was revived in 2009 after T.G. Green was bought by a trio of British investors.
To the right of the stock pot and Cornishware bowl stands a silver Art Nouveau cup which is a dolls’ house miniature from Germany, made in the first decade of the Twentieth Century. It is a beautiful work of art as a stand alone item and is remarkably heavy.
The jars of herbs are also 1:12 miniatures, made of real glass with real cork stoppers in them.
The large kitchen range in the background is a 1:12 miniature replica of the coal fed Phoenix Kitchen Range. A mid-Victorian model, it has hinged opening doors, hanging bars above the stove and a little bass hot water tap (used in the days before plumbed hot water).
The Looking close … on Friday group has chosen Pushpins this week.
I presume this means "drawing pins"
Rose water is a flavoured water made by steeping rose petals in water.[1] It is the hydrosol portion of the distillate of rose petals, a by-product of the production of rose oil for use in perfume. Rose water is also used to flavour food, as a component in some cosmetic and medical preparations, and for religious purposes throughout Eurasia.
The theme for “Looking Close on Friday” for the 10th of December is “feathers (black and white)”. In recent months, I have been exploring a new avenue in my creativity, that of portraiture photography. I used my sitter for the “Smile on Saturday” theme of “nose” a little over two months ago, a little over a month ago for “Looking Close on Friday’s” theme of “dots and stripes” and then again a few weeks ago for “Looking Close on Friday’s” theme of “lips”. Now you can complete the image of my elusive sitter, who has agreed to return for a fourth time, and is this time showing us an eye. Put it together with his nose and lips and you almost have a full face… almost! My sitter has kindly shirked his garb completely, or so it appears, and taken up one of my antique fans in a coquettish fan dance.
I love to collect vintage accessories. This includes antique fans. My favourite fans are those from the Victorian and Edwardian era. Fans from these eras are extremely ostentatious and beautiful, but at such advanced age are often very fragile. My sitter holds an ostrich feather and tortoiseshell fan from the early 1900s. The struts are made of tortoiseshell and the fan itself is made from bleached ostrich plumes. Usually, ostrich feathers were bleached to make them white, such as this fan, or to then colour them to match a lady’s outfit. If you do not approve of tortoiseshell or ostrich feather plumes being used for ornamentation, I thoroughly respect that, but please appreciate the fact that this object was created before either you or I were born, in a less enlightened time when it came to the wellbeing and care of our precious animals.
I do hope that you like my creation for this week’s theme of “feathers (black and white)”, and that it makes you smile… maybe even a little cheekily!
In western culture, a fan dance (a dance performed with fans) may be an erotic dance performance, traditionally by a woman, but not exclusively. Beyond eroticism it is a form of musical interpretation. The performer, sometimes entirely nude or apparently so, dances while manipulating two or more large fans that can be constructed from many different materials including ostrich feathers, silks, velvet, sequined and organza fabrics. The unifying factor in all are the spins, or fan staves, that give form to this prop.
The Victorians and Edwardians were very big on catching and displaying animals, be it taxidermy for educational purposes such as those that featured in the first modern museums created in the Victorian era, the big game hunters who sought lions and other exotic animals for their horns, tusks and hides to display, or for Victorian and Edwardian consumerism such as this fan. Four hundred tons of South African ostrich feathers were brought through St Katherine’s Dock in just one year alone, and at a value of four million pounds, were all used for women’s headdresses, hats and fans.
Wickham Place is the London home of Lord and Lady Southgate, their children and staff. Located in fashionable Belgravia it is a fine Georgian terrace house.
Today we are below stairs in the Wickham Place kitchen. At the sink, the scullery maid Agnes scrubs the copper pots used for the preparation of upstairs luncheon with a mixture of sand and soap. Mrs. Bradley, known by most downstairs staff as Cook, is occasionally filled with a momentarily maternal instinct for her poor, bedraggled scullery maid. Watching the poor girl with her brown curls coming loose from beneath her cap, huffing and puffing away as she scrubs, creates such a burst of emotion within her breast.
“Agnes. Agnes.”
“Yes Mrs. Bradley.”
“I think you’ve earned the right for a quick cooking lesson.”
“Oh! Oh really Mrs. Bradley!”
“Yes Agnes. Now, wash and dry your hands with some of that Sunlight. Make sure you scrub under your nails, girl! And then come and join me at the table. Clean hands are essential for a good cook, and we all know that cleanliness is next to godliness!”
Cook takes out some butter, milk and a bowl of eggs from the food safe. Going to her big heavy dark wood dresser she withdraws her Cornishware canister of sugar, some flour nutmeg and salt. She also brings over a fluted flan.
“Cor Mrs. Bradley! Are you going to show me how to make your famous soufflé?”
“Do you take me for fool Agnes?” She looks incredulously at her scullery maid, who sighs and lowers her shoulders at the rebuke. “You need to learn the basics of plain cooking girl, before I can teach you anything fancy. No! We’re going to make a good, plain, custard tart for Nanny and the children. I’m going to make the pastry, and you can make the custard. Now, do you think you can you break three eggs into that bowl there in front of you?”
“Oh yes Mrs. Bradley!”
Moments later Agnes is happily and purposefully breaking eggs against the edge of the bowl. Suddenly there is a crack and a plop. Cook looks up from making pastry to see that Agnes has accidently dropped an egg onto the deal tabletop where it has cracked open, the white oozing across the table’s surface. Agnes looks anxiously at Cook and before the older woman can speak, the poor scullery maid starts to cry.
“Oh heavens Agnes!” Cook exclaims, dusting off her floured hands on her apron.
“Sorry Mrs. Bradly,” Agnes sobs.
“Now girl! There’s no need for tears! No use crying over spilt milk, or a broken egg for that matter.” She smiles reassuring across at Agnes. “If I cried every time I dropped an egg, why, the road outside would be running with my tears!”
“It would, Mrs. Bradley?”
“Yes, girl! Now quick! Go fetch a cloth and clean that up, and then keep going.”
The Wickham Place kitchens are situated on the ground floor of Wickham Place, adjoining the Butler’s Pantry. It is dominated by big black leaded range, and next to it stands a heavy dark wood dresser that has been there for as long as anyone can remember. There is a white enamelled sink to one side with deep cupboards to house the necessary cleaning agents the scullery maid needs to keep the kitchen clean for the cook. In the middle of the kitchen stands Cook’s preserve, the pine deal table on which she does most of her preparation for both the meals served to the family upstairs and those for the downstairs staff.
The theme for the 14th of August “Looking Close… on Friday” is “eggs”. This tableaux is made up of part of my 1:12 size dollhouse miniatures collection. Some pieces come from my own childhood like the ladderback chair and the milk jug. Other items I acquired as an adult through specialist online dealers and artists who specialise in 1:12 miniatures.
Fun things to look for in this tableaux include:
The eggs, including the broken egg are all 1:12 artisan miniatures with amazing attention to detail.
On Cook’s deal table is a Cornishware white and blue striped bowl which holds the eggs and also one of her Cornishware cannisters. Cornishware is a striped kitchenware brand trademarked to and manufactured by T.G. Green & Co Ltd. Originally introduced in the 1920s and manufactured in Church Gresley, Derbyshire, it was a huge success for the company and in the succeeding 30 years it was exported around the world. The company ceased production in June 2007 when the factory closed under the ownership of parent company, The Tableshop Group. The range was revived in 2009 after T.G. Green was bought by a trio of British investors.
Next to the Cornishware cannister stands a miniature Blue Calico milk jug. Traditional dark blue Burleigh Calico made in Staffordshire, England by Burgess & Leigh since 1851. It was inspired by Nineteenth Century indigo fabrics. Blue Calico is still made today, and still uses the traditional print transfer process, which makes each piece unique.
On the other side of the Cornishware cannister stands a bag of Dry Fork Four. The Dry Fork Milling Company was based in Dry Fork Virginia. They were well known for producing cornmeal. They were still producing cornmeal and flour into the 1950s. Today, part of the old mill buildings are used as a reception centre.
The sink in the background is littered with interesting items. On the left stands an old fashioned draining board which could be removed so that the space could then be used for other purposes. It is stacked with copper pots and a silver metal muffin tray. Near the taps is a box of Sunlight soap and a can of Vim, both cleaning essentials in any Edwardian household. Vim scouring powder was created by William Hesketh Lever (1st Viscount Leverhulme) and introduced to the market in 1904. It was produced at Port Sunlight in Wirrel, Merseyside, a model village built by Lever Brothers for the workers of their factories which produced the popular soap brands Lux, Lifebuoy and Sunlight. Sunlight Soap was first introduced in 1884.
To the left of the sink is the food safe with a birchwood broom leaning against it. In the days before refrigeration, or when refrigeration was expensive, perishable foods such as meat, butter, milk and eggs were kept in a food safe. Winter was easier than summer to keep food fresh and butter coolers and shallow bowls of cold water were early ways to keep things like milk and butter cool. A food safe was a wooden cupboard with doors and sides open to the air apart from a covering of fine galvanized wire mesh. This allowed the air to circulate while keeping insects out. There was usually an upper and a lower compartment, normally lined with what was known as American cloth, a fabric with a glazed or varnished wipe-clean surface. Refrigerators, like washing machines were American inventions and were not commonplace in even wealthy upper-class households until well after the Second World War.
Cavendish Mews is a smart set of flats in Mayfair where flapper and modern woman, the Honourable Lettice Chetwynd has set up home after coming of age and gaining her allowance. To supplement her already generous allowance, and to break away from dependence upon her family, Lettice has established herself as a society interior designer, so her flat is decorated with a mixture of elegant antique Georgian pieces and modern Art Deco furnishings, using it as a showroom for what she can offer to her well heeled clients.
Whilst her mistress is enjoying a weekend in Worcestershire, Edith, Lettice’s maid is using her time to give the flat a thorough dusting and airing. As she dusts the dining room, a noise she detests bursts into her quiet, methodical cleaning.
BBBBRRRINGGG!
The telephone in the drawing room starts ringing.
Edith looks through the double doors into the adjoining drawing room. “That infernal contraption!” she mutters to herself.
BBBBRRRINGGG!
She walks in and up to the black japanned occasional table upon which the silver and Bakelite telephone continues to trill loudly.
BBBBRRRINGGG!
“I should pull your chord out next time I’m Hoovering. Let’s hear you ring then!”
BBBBRRRINGGG!
Edith hates answering the telephone. It’s one of the few jobs in her position as Lettice’s maid that she wishes she didn’t have to do. Whenever she has to answer it, which is quite often considering how frequently her mistress is out and about, there is usually some uppity caller at the other end of the phone, whose toffee-nosed accent only seems to sharpen when they realise they are speaking to ‘the hired help’ as they abruptly demand Lettice’s whereabouts.
BBBBRRRINGGG!
“Come on now Edith!” she tells herself, smoothing her suddenly clammy hands down the apron covering her print morning dress. “It’s only a machine, and the person at the other end can’t hurt you, even if they are angry that you aren’t her.”
“Mayfair 432, the Honourable Miss Lettice Chetwynd’s residence.” she answers with a slight quiver to her voice. Her whole body clenches and she closes her eyes as she waits for the barrage of anger from some duchess or other titled lady, affronted at having to address the maid. A distant female voice speaks down the line. “Oh Mrs. Hatchett, how do you do. Yes, this is Edith, Miss Chetwynd’s maid.” Her anxiety lessens slightly, for even though Mrs. Hatchett is somewhat overbearing, she is a banker’s wife and therefore not born with a pedigree that finds talking to the staff offensive. She listens. “No. No, I’m afraid that Miss Chetwynd isn’t in residence Mrs. Hatchett.” She listens to the disappointed response. “She’s down at Wickhamford Manor in the Vale of Evesham.” She listens again. “It’s Worcestershire Mrs. Hatchett, so I’m afraid it would be a bit difficult for me to fetch her.” More bemoaning comes down the telephone from Sussex. “Monday. She’s there until Monday, Mrs. Hatchett. I’m expecting her home late Monday evening.” The distress down the phone is palpable. “I can take a message for you, if you like Mrs. Hatchett.”
After receiving an affirmative reply, she deposits the receiver next to the telephone with a trembling hand. It sounds as if Mrs. Hatchett’s arm might fall off in Lettice’s absence from all the moaning she is making. Yet Edith has had enough practice with her mistress’ clients by now to know that it will be some silly inconsequential matter about her interior design plans that she will want addressed. Edith brushes her clammy palms down her apron a second time and then picks up the pencil atop of the pad of paper that Lettice left for her to jot any messages on.
Picking up the receiver she says, “I’m ready for your message now Mrs. Hatchett. Please go ahead.”
She writes a message based on Mrs. Hatchett’s distressed response.
“Now, if you’ll just let me read that back to you Mrs. Hatchett. You’ve changed your mind about the Regency stripe for the soft furnishing covers, and you want chintz.” A further burbling comes down the phone. “You want blue chintz to match the walls.” She listens to Mrs. Hatchett’s confirmation. “Yes. Yes I’ll give her that message the very moment she comes through the door Monday evening, Mrs. Hatchett. Very good. Good day Mrs. Hatchett.”
Edith hangs up the receiver and sighs with relief. “Damn infernal contraption!” she says as she glares at the telephone shining brightly in the afternoon sun.
She re-reads her pencilled message and frowns. “Miss Lettice won’t like that. She hates chintz. Oh well!” She shrugs. “That’s her problem to solve.”
Edith returns to the dining room and takes up where she left off, hoping that the telephone won’t ring again until Tuesday at least, when Lettice will be back in residence.
The theme for “Looking Close… on Friday” this week is “telephone”.
I hope that this telephone, which kept people connected in the 1920s and keeps them equally connected today is suitable for the theme. This upper-class domestic scene is different to what you may think, for it is made up entirely of 1:12 size dollhouse miniatures including items from my own childhood. The telephone you see before you is only two centimetres wide and two centimetres high.
Fun things to look for in this tableaux include:
The black Bakelite and silver telephone is a 1:12 miniature of a model introduced around 1919. It is two centimetres wide and two centimetres high. The receiver can be removed from the cradle, and the curling chord does stretch out.
The vase of orange roses on the Art Deco occasional table is beautifully made by hand by the Doll House Emporium.
The pencil on the pad in front of the telephone is a 1:12 miniature as well, and is only one millimetre wide and two centimetres long.
Lettice’s drawing room is furnished with beautiful J.B.M. miniatures. The black japanned wooden chair is a Chippendale design and has been upholstered with modern and stylish Art Deco fabric. The mirror backed back japanned china cabinet is Chippendale too. On its glass shelves sit pieces of miniature Limoges porcelain including jugs, teacups and saucers.
To the left of the Chippendale chair stands a blanc de chine Chinese porcelain vase, and next to it, a Chinese screen. The Chinese folding screen I bought at an antiques and junk market when I was about ten. I was with my grandparents and a friend of the family and their three children, who were around my age. They all bought toys to bring home and play with, and I bought a Chinese folding screen to add to my miniatures collection in my curio cabinet at home! It shows you what a unique child I was.
The green tinged Art Deco glass bowl on the table in the foreground is a hand made miniature from Beautifully Made Miniatures in England.
The geometric Art Deco wallpaper is beautiful hand impressed paper given to me by a friend, which inspired the whole “Cavendish Mews – Lettice Chetwynd” series.
Wishing everyone a HAPPY and a SAFE new week!
GETTING READY FOR...
#lookingclose...onfriday
#christmasbaubles
Thank you all so much for the visit and for the kind comments and favs. They are very much appreciated!
This antique wooden mushroom is a container belonging to my wife. She has had it since childhood. The top comes off and holds about two dozen colored plastic disks for the game tiddlywinks.
Holding one of the large disks, a player presses down on the edge of one of the small disks causing it to slip under the pressure and flip into the air. The object of the game is to land the small disks into the base of the mushroom.
Shot for Looking close… on Friday!, Mushrooms
Wickham Place is the London home of Lord and Lady Southgate, their children and staff. Located in fashionable Belgravia it is a fine Georgian terrace house.
Tonight we are below stairs in the Wickham Place kitchen. The Wickham Place kitchens are situated on the ground floor of Wickham Place, adjoining the Butler’s Pantry. It is dominated by big black leaded range, and next to it stands a heavy dark wood dresser that has been there for as long as anyone can remember. In the middle of the kitchen stands Cook’s preserve, the pine deal table on which she does most of her preparation for both the meals served to the family upstairs and those for the downstairs staff.
It's a busy and noisy place this evening with all spare hands being put to some use as Lord and Lady Southgate entertain the United States Ambassador to England, Mr. Whitelaw Reid*. As he is coming, Her Ladyship has invited a number of her fellow Americans who now live in London society like she does.
There is a frenetic energy about the room which scullery maid Agnes finds a little overwhelming as she tries to be useful to Mrs. Bradley and keep out from under the feet of the constant stream of liveried footmen coming through with dirty glasses for her to wash and empty bottles of champagne to be disposed of. In comparison, Mrs. Bradley the cook, has everything in hand as she orders Agnes, an additional kitchen maid she has hired for the night and the two housemaids Sara and Tilley about. Here we are before the range at the pine deal table where Mrs. Bradley has just finished removing some lightly fried hors d’oeuvres from her copper skillet with a slotted spatula, carefully placing them on a fine white porcelain plate.
“Well,” she says with a satisfied sigh over the clatter of pots and the patter of feet. “What do you think Agnes?”
“About what, Mrs. Bradley?” Agnes scurries over from the sink.
“About what! About what? About these, girl!” She indicates to the three plates before her.
The hors d’oeuvres for the reception are ready. Prawns on puff pastry decorated with caviar, potato petites adored with cherry tomatoes and cucumber slivers and by special request of Her Ladyship for the tastes of her American friends, crab, tomato, fresh herbs and mayonnaise on toast squares.
“Oh! Oh, they look wonderful Mrs. Bradley! I hope to make something as beautiful as these some day.”
“And you will, girl. You will.” the older woman assures her. “Now, have you done your bit for the hors d’oeuvres, Agnes?”
The cook has recently taught her scullery maid how to fashion pretty looking ornamental garnishes for platters. “Yes, Mrs. Bradley!” She carefully brings over from the safety of a sideboard in the corner of the kitchen a selection of sliced carrots and greenery which she artfully places on each plate.
“Very good Agnes!” Cook says approvingly. “Fit for a queen, or a gaggle of American Dollar Princesses in this case, my girl!”
“Are the canapés ready, Mrs. Bradley?” a slightly out of breath and red-faced Mr. Withers the butler asks as he hurries through the kitchen door from the corridor outside. “Viscount and Viscountess Astor** have finally arrived.”
“Hors d’oeuvres for the evening!” she says proudly. “With Agnes’ help, of course.”
“Very good Agnes,” Mr. Withers gives her one of his approving smiles. “Mrs. Bradley will make a first class cook of you yet.”
The scullery maid smiles shyly and blushes.
“Potato petites with cherry tomatoes and cucumber slivers, prawns on puff pastry with caviar,” Cook continues. “And crab, tomato, fresh herbs and mayonnaise on toast by special request of Her Ladyship for the Americans amongst them upstairs.”
The three liveried house footmen in their frock coats, britches and powdered wigs return and take one plate each, holding them safely aloft as he file out the door and upstairs to serve the guests mingling in Wickham Place’s main reception room.
“Well, don’t just stand there, girl!” Cook say to the mesmerised Agnes. “I need you chopping herbs to garnish the soup with whilst Florrie and I check on the roast fowls.”
“Yes, Mrs. Bradley.” Says Agnes, still smiling from the praise of Cook and Mr. Withers.
*Mr. Whitelaw Reid was an American politician, newspaper editor and writer. He was appointed the U.S. Ambassador to the Court of St, James’ by Theodore Roosevelt in 1905. He served in this role, including during the William Howard Taft administration, until his death in 1912.
**Waldorf Astor, Second Viscount Astor and his wife Nancy Witcher Langhorne Astor, Viscountess Astor were American-born members of the British aristocracy and were also British politicians. Lady Astor although not the first woman elected to the British parliament, was the first woman elected to take her seat there. Both were members of parliament at different times for Plymouth.
The theme for the 27th of November “Looking Close… on Friday” is “savoury food”. This tableaux is made up of part of my 1:12 size dollhouse miniatures collection. Some pieces come from my own childhood like the ladderback chair to the left of the picture. Other items I acquired as an adult through specialist online dealers and artists who specialise in 1:12 miniatures.
Fun things to look for in this tableaux include:
The plates of finely made hors d‘oeuvres seen on Cook’s deal table, and the parsnip you can just see peeping out of the blue and white Cornishware bowl on the rfight are artisan miniatures from Beautifully Handmade Miniatures in Kettering in England, as are the onions hanging to the right of the range. He has a dizzying array of meals which is always growing, and all are made entirely or put together by hand, so each item is individual.
The kitchen knife and the meat cleaver with their inlaid handles and sharpened blades comes from English miniatures specialist Doreen Jeffries Small Wonders Miniature store.
The copper stock pot, the copper pan and the pots on the range in the background are all made of real copper and come from various miniature stockists in England and America.
To the right of the photo, containing parsnips is one of Cook’s Cornishware white and blue striped bowls. One of her Cornishware cannisters stands on the dresser in the background. Cornishware is a striped kitchenware brand trademarked to and manufactured by T.G. Green & Co Ltd. Originally introduced in the 1920s and manufactured in Church Gresley, Derbyshire, it was a huge success for the company and in the succeeding 30 years it was exported around the world. The company ceased production in June 2007 when the factory closed under the ownership of parent company, The Tableshop Group. The range was revived in 2009 after T.G. Green was bought by a trio of British investors.
The copper skillet on the edge of the chopping board, the stock pot and the kettle on the range are all 1:12 miniature that come from various stockists over the years.
The jar of herbs is also a 1:12 miniature, made of real glass with a real cork stopper in it.
The large kitchen range in the background is a 1:12 miniature replica of the coal fed Phoenix Kitchen Range. A mid-Victorian model, it has hinged opening doors, hanging bars above the stove and a little bass hot water tap (used in the days before plumbed hot water).