View allAll Photos Tagged tablelinen
As winter tentatively gives way to spring, the delicate beauty of snowdrops lingers on in a still life photograph that captures their ephemeral nature. Though the weather outside may still be chilly and grey, the cool tones of blue and white porcelain and the exquisite craftsmanship of a handmade antique tablecloth evoke a sense of timeless elegance that transcends the seasons.
It's almost June and the start of summer — the sun's shining and a perfect day for scones, clotted cream and strawberry jam, with a few fresh summer strawberries to accompany them — and proper tea, of course!
The Hellebore or Lenten Rose has to be one of the most beautiful garden flowers of early spring. Sadly, they don't last long, when cut, but do look absolutely stunning in an arrangement. Vintage china and an antique hand-made family heirloom lace tray cloth complement the delicate beauty of the flowers.
Tomorrow's the first of May and a traditional celebration of the coming of summer - or, at least, the promise of summer!
Clotted cream, strawberry jam and homemade buttery scones served with proper loose-leaf tea. The antique hand-stitched and hand embroidere Traditional English Strawberry Cream Tea. Clotted cream, strawberry jam and homemade buttery scones served with proper loose-leaf tea. The antique hand-stitched and hand embroidered table linen belonged to my grandmother — the sheer amount of work involved in making something like that is hard to imagine in this day and age.
A restyling of the Simnel Cake (which delays actually being able to *eat* the thing by another day whilst I mess about photographing it)! Decorated with a selection of spring flowers and displayed on hand-made (and hand-embroidered) antique table linen (and highly resistant to ironing)! Wishing everyone a very Happy Easter! Now, if you'll excuse me, I’m off to (finally) eat some cake!
Through the open windows, a moonlit ocean attends to its ritualistic washing of the rocks, while a basket of lavender inside translates the music of crickets and the wind through the pines, listening with reverence to the sounds of the foghorn-punctuated night.
'Happy Birthday Spoonflower Birthday Party Table Linens by Su_G': my entry in Spoonflower's 'Birthday Party Table Linens' Design Challenge - to celebrate Spoonflower turning fifteen in May. Happy birthday Spoonflower! Hand drawn line art. © Su Schaefer 2023
'Birthday Party Table Linens by Su_G' is a simpler version.
Shown as a table runner & napkins in the mockup (c/o Spoonflower).
New voting system has bugs still being ironed out. The link for voting will be www.spoonflower.com/contest_voters_temp/new?contest_id=694 - open for one week only. BUT be warned! There will be about 1,700 entries, many of which will have little to no relationship to the brief (reusable birthday table linen) & we're still playing spot the AI-generated entries (they're the ones with strange numbers of fingers and toes & other body part mistakes that humans don't do).
[Happy Birthday Spoonflower! Birthday Party Linens by Su_G_table runner_mockup]
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.
Today we are in Lettice’s chic, dining room, which stands adjunct to her equally stylish drawing room. She has decorated it in a restrained Art Deco style with a smattering of antique pieces including a rather fine Chippendale cabinet.
Lettice is hosting a luncheon for her future sister-in-law Arabella Tyrwhitt who will soon marry her eldest brother, Leslie. As Arabella has no sisters, and her mother is too unwell at present to travel up to London from Wiltshire, Lettice has taken it upon herself to help Arabella shop and select a suitable trousseau. So, she has brought her to London to stay in Cavendish Mews, rather than opening up the Tyrwhitt’s Georgian townhouse in Curzon Street for a week, so from there she can take Arabella shopping in all the best shops in the West End, and take her to her old childhood chum and best friend Gerald Bruton’s couturier in Grosvenor Street for her wedding dress. Lettice has invited a few of her friends from her Embassy Club coterie whom Arabella met there the other night. Lettice has asked her best girlfriend, the recently married Margot Channon and one of her other dear friends Minnie Palmerston. As both ladies are married, Lettice is hoping they may be able to shed some light on what life is like as a married woman with Arabella whilst also sharing in an afternoon of delicious food and delightful gossip.
Now luncheon is over, and the ladies have adjourned to Lettice’s drawing room where they carry on their high spirited conversations over digestives, and raucous laughter echoes across into the dining room where Edith, Lettice’s maid, is putting some of the glassware and fine china used at luncheon back into the Chippendale cabinet where they belong after having washed them. A consummate maid, Edith is very discreet and unlike other domestics she isn’t particularly interested in gossip, so she doesn’t pay attention to the conversations being had in the drawing room as she quietly stacks the gilded Art Deco patterned dinner plates onto the second shelf of the cabinet. She hums ‘Toot Toot Tootsie’* to herself as she does so. She smiles as she does, thinking of how she and her beau Frank Leadbetter danced cheek to cheek at the Hammersmith Palais** to the tune on her day off last Sunday, so she doesn’t notice the approach of a pair of footsteps.
“Excuse me, Edith,” Margot begins.
Edith releases a startled gasp as she leaps into the air in fright, almost dropping the silver gravy boat in her hands as she does. “Oh Miss de Virre, err, I mean, Mrs. Channon.” Edith is still adjusting, like most everyone else, to Margot’s newly married status. She grasps at her chest as she breathes heavily. “You didn’t half scare me!”
“Oh, I’m sorry Edith. I didn’t mean to startle you.” Margot says kindly, stepping back slightly on her gold louis heel.
Edith looks at her mistress’ best lady friend. She is very beautiful with dark eyes and dark hair framing her pale face. Her hair is swept into a smart chignon at the nape of her neck where it is held in place by an ornate tortoiseshell comb. She is dressed in an afternoon frock of burnt orange silk de chiné with a boat neckline and a handkerchief hemline that swishes softly around her figure when she moves. Edith wonders if it was made by their friend Gerald Bruton the couturier. Edith remembers he made Margot’s wedding dress and several other pieces of her trousseau. The colour of the gown is enhanced by her dark hair and by a long bright green bugle bead necklace that cascades down the front of it and her matching chandelier earrings that swing and tremble from her dainty lobes.
“Can I help you, Mrs. Channon?” Edith asks. “Was everything at luncheon to your satisfaction?”
“Oh quite! Quite, Edith. Your roast was delicious, as were the tarts for dessert.” Margot falls silent but doesn’t turn or attempt to walk away.
“Is there something you need?” Edith queries.
“Actually, there is, Edith.” Margot says after a moment. She turns and looks over her left shoulder, down the length of the dining room into the drawing room where Lettice and Minnie are entertaining Bella with an amusing story about their escapades as they sip their digestives. She turns back to the maid. “May I ask for your discretion?”
“Of course, Mrs. Channon.”
“Good. Because I don’t want Minnie to hear us, so I’ll be quick.” Margot pronounces lowering her voice.
“Very good Mrs. Channon.” She moves the right-hand door of the Chippendale cabinet so that it obscures the view of Lettice, Minnie and Bella, and affords the two ladies a modicum of privacy behind it. “That’s better.” she says. “Now, how can I help?”
“You know how Dickie… err, Mr. Channon and I have moved around the corner from here and taken a flat in Hill Street.”
“Yes Mrs. Channon.”
“Well, you see, I need a competent maid to come and manage my household. It’s all in a bit of a muddle. I’ve borrowed one of Mummy’s maids, Pegeen, but she really isn’t suitable.” Margot shakes her head sadly as she toys with the rings on her fingers abstractedly.
Edith’s eyes grow wide, and her mouth starts to gape with incredulity as she takes a sharp intake of breath after hearing Margot’s words.
“Oh no! No, Edith!” Margot hisses. “You misunderstand me.” She shakes her head, making the chandelier earrings swing about, catching and reflecting the light from the pendant light overhead prettily. “I’d never try and poach you from Lettice.” She raises her elegantly manicured hands in defence. “Lettice is one of my oldest and dearest friends. I’d never be so beastly as to steal you away from her.”
Edith lets out a sigh of relief as she cradles the silver gravy boat in her arms.
“No,” Margot continues in an assuring tone. “I just thought, well, that you might know of someone looking for a position. Lettice told me that you weren’t very happy in your last position, and I wondered whether perhaps there might have been others you’ve worked with who might be dissatisfied with their current employer.”
Edith turns away from Margot and places the gleaming gravy boat on the second shelf of the Chippendale cabinet next to a salt shaker. She runs her finger along its foot thoughtfully and smiles to herself before turning back around again to see Margot’s expectant face.
“As it happens, I do know of someone, Mrs. Channon.” the maid replies confidently. “Who is currently looking for a new position in these parts.”
“Oh hoorah!” Margot clasps her hands. “Well, I don’t really know how this is done, Edith. Can you give me her details? Or perhaps if I give you mine? You could pass them on for me?”
“Now just wait a moment, Mrs. Channon.” Edith cautions her, holding up her careworn palms. “Not quite so fast, if you please. This is my very good friend, Hilda. I’ll not recommend anything to her until you’ve given me a few more specifics.”
“Of course, Edith.” Margot sighs. “What would you like to know?”
“Firstly, this is a live-in position, isn’t it?”
“Oh yes Edith. The flat has a lovely little maid’s bedroom off the kitchen, just like here.”
“And your flat is how big?” Edith asks.
“Well, it’s a trifle bigger than here, as there are two of us.”
“Yes?”
“There is a drawing room and dining room, obviously. It has two bedrooms like here, but the second one is a guest bedroom so she wouldn’t have to clean it every week, just air and clean it before we have house guests.”
“And how often is that?”
“Well, I don’t really know.” Margot considers. “We haven’t been there all that long, but I don’t suppose it will all that often. There are two dressing rooms, oh, and there’s Mr. Channon’s study as well.”
“And would my friend be required to cook for you, like I do for Miss Lettice?”
“Well, Mr. Channon and I dine out quite a lot. We’re barely home really. We also have our little house in Cornwall where we will spend some time once Lettice has finished redecorating, so breakfasts for both of us when we are home, the occasional luncheon and dinner.”
“What about sewing?”
“Sewing, Edith?” Margot gazes at Edith, a look of confusion on her face. “I need a maid, not a lady’s maid.”
“Will my friend be required to do any mending of linens, embroidery or the like.” Edith clarifies.
Margot looks perplexed. “I shouldn’t think so, Edith. If anything like that needs doing, I’ll get one of Dickie… er, Mr. Cannon’s parent’s maids to do it.”
“That’s good because Hilda doesn’t sew. Her mother didn’t like sewing, so she never learnt like I did. I tried to teach her a few basic skills, but she’s got no real aptitude for it.”
“I have the laundry sent out, like you do here, and I’ve engaged Mrs. Boothby to come twice a week to do the harder jobs.”
“Very good Mrs. Channon.” Edith acknowledges coolly, not giving away her thrill that this might be the perfect job for her friend Hilda to get her away from the mean Mrs. Plaistow.
“And I’ll happily pay a wage commensurate to your own, Edith.”
“Miss Lettice doesn’t pay me board wages*** when she goes away for weekends in the country, only at Christmas time.”
“Oh, I don’t even know what board wages are, Edith.” Margot assures the maid with a shrug of her shoulders.
Edith ruminates for a moment, her gaze drifting around the dining room: anywhere but Margot’s anxious face.
“If you don’t mind me asking, Mrs. Channon, if this is such a splendid position, and if you’re such a good mistress, why isn’t this Pegeen you’ve got working for you currently, suitable?” Edith glances at the inside of the black japanned door of the Chippendale cabinet, as if she can see Lettice, Minnie and Bella through it. She lowers her voice to even more of a whisper. “And why don’t you want Mrs. Palmerston knowing you’re looking for a new maid?”
“Well, you saw Minnie at luncheon today.” Margot replies. “She is rather,” She chews the inside of her cheek as she considers what adjective to use to describe Minnie Palmerston. “Highly strung shall we say.”
“Yes, I did notice that, Mrs. Channon.” Edith replies with a quick nod of acknowledgement.
“Well, her histrionics mean that she has some difficulty keeping maids for any length of time. I don’t want her to pilfer and squander any potential candidates you might send my way. After all, you really are such a brick, Edith.” Margot reaches out and places a hand on Edith’s forearm, which the maid finds overfamiliar and rather discomforting. “I’m sure anyone whom you recommend to me would be a brick too.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Channon.” Edith smiles proudly, blushing at the compliment and lowering her gaze demurely. “And why is Pegeen not a suitable candidate?”
“Well, for a start she is my mother’s maid, and I only have Pegeen under a grace-and-favour arrangement for a short time.” She pauses.
“And?” Edith presses her for her unfinished thoughts.
“And I caught her going through Mr. Channon’s desk drawers.’ Margot sighs. “I don’t want a prying maid. I also found her trying on my dresses twice and I caught a definite note of my La Jacinthe**** scent on her yesterday. I want a maid I can trust, like Lettice trusts you. Pegeen is definitely not to be trusted.”
Edith takes only a moment to decide whether this opportunity is good enough to pass on to Hilda.
“If you’d please supply me with your details, Mrs. Channon, I’ll be sure to pass them on to my friend Hilda. She can then choose if she wishes to pursue your offer of employment. That’s how it’s done.”
“Oh Edith!” Margot exclaims. “Lettice is right! You really are such a brick!”
“I don’t know what you mean, Mrs. Channon.” Edith demurs. “Now, hadn’t you best go back to the rest of the company before you are missed?”
“Oh yes, you’re right Edith.” Margot agrees, and so saying, she turns on her heel and walks away.
Edith carefully closes the beautifully decorated Chippendale cabinet with its ornate hinges and walks towards the green baize doors that lead back into the service area of the flat, barely able to contain her excitement. Only last week as they stood in Mrs. Minkin’s haberdashery shop, Hilda was complaining about how awful it was working under Mrs. Plaistow and how she was looking for a new position. Pushing open the doors and slipping through it she is thrilled that she may have the solution to her dear friend’s problems.
*Toot Toot Tootsie (Goobye) was one of the most popular songs of 1922, written by Gus Kahn, Ernie Erdman and Dan Russo, made popular by Al Jolson.
**The Hammersmith Palais de Danse, in its last years simply named Hammersmith Palais, was a dance hall and entertainment venue in Hammersmith, London, England that operated from 1919 until 2007. It was the first palais de danse to be built in Britain.
***Board wages were monies paid in lieu of meals and were paid in addition to a servant’s normal salary. Often servants were paid board wages when their employer went on holiday, or to London for the season, leaving them behind with no cook t prepare their meals. Some employers paid their servants fair board wages, however most didn’t, and servants often found themselves out of pocket fending for themselves, rather than having meals provided within the household.
****La Jacinthe is a scent created by French perfumier François Coty that was launched in 1914. With a fragrance of hyacinth as the name suggests, it was promoted as being "A tribute to stately radiant beauty that recalls the goddesses of Ancient Greece - the scent of classic hyacinths." It ceased production around 1933
This elegant domestic scene may not be all you consider it to be, for it is made up entirely with pieces from my 1:12 miniatures collection, including pieces from my teenage years.
Fun things to look for in this tableau include:
Made by high-end miniature manufacturer, J.B.M. the black japanned Chippendale cabinet has been decorated with chinoiserie designs. It also features very ornate metalwork hinges and locks. The Chippendale black japanned chairs are also made by J. B. M.
The top shelf features white wine glasses all of which are artisan pieces, spun from real glass, that I acquired as a teenager from a high street shop that specialised in dolls and doll house miniatures. The red wine glasses on the right are also hand spun glass pieces from Beautifully Handmade Miniatures in Kettering. The Georgian water jug between the glasses comes from Warwick Miniatures in Ireland, who are well known for the quality and detail applied to their pieces.
The middle shelf contains pieces of Lettice’s gilt edged dinner set featuring highly stylised blue Art Deco patterns. The gravy boat in the middle, like the water jug above, comes from Warwick Miniatures in Ireland.
The linen on the bottom shelf has been trimmed by hand with some dainty pieces of lace and was made for me by a miniature artisan sewer in Sydney.
The paintings on the walls are 1:12 artisan pieces made by Amber’s Miniatures in the United States. 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.
I imagine the O-filler being a lover of strong, black coffee, and precise number of almonds, each day, around 5pm...
'Prussian blue + buttery-cream texturised gingham by Su_G': Chic, classic, timeless! My entry in Spoonflower's 'French Country Table Linens' Design Challenge. Original: hand-drawn line art. © Su Schaefer 2023
See more colour matched 'Prussian blue' designs by Su_G.
Table linen mockup c/o Spoonflower.
New voting system still a PITA... www.spoonflower.com/design-challenge/French-Country-Table-Linens-2023-07/vote may be the link for voting - patience needed as can take time to get past the gray boxes stage - voting generally open for a week. There may be around 1700 entries, patience is a virtue...
Please share your thoughts on the voting experience so I can pass them on to Spoonflower (what works, what doesn't work). Thank you so much! :-)
[Prussian blue + buttery-cream texturised gingham by Su_G]
Rainy Autumn Serenade: Here is my autumnal limited colour palette challenge design for @spoonflower x @eastforkpottery using East Fork’s core colours to celebrate the season and display on your autumn table. One of the top 50 designs will be picked to go on East Fork’s beautiful products. Wouldn’t it be nice 😊 I hope you like it and please vote at the end of the week to make it happen together. Thank you ❤️
Taken in the French Quarter, I can't recall the premise or street..:-)
Update: I was able to identify this as Beckam's Bookshop 228 Decatur St.. On the largest size one can make out the sign that is hanging and the numbers below a window.
And the cafe table belongs to the Attiki Bar and Grill 230 Decatur Street.
Prints on sale at Fine Arts America:
fineartamerica.com/featured/the-2nd-sit-in-for-the-last-supper-g...
㊚ ♊ ♋ ✞
All rights reserved.
mortar & pestle, table-linens, and twine
TW's Scarborough Fair Pesto
3 cups fresh parsley (firmly packed)
1/2 cup fresh sage (loosely packed)
1/8 cup fresh rosemary (loosely packed)
1/8 cup fresh thyme (loosely packed)
1/2 cup extra virgin olive oil
1/3 cup toasted walnuts
2 garlic cloves
1/4 cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese
1/4 cup freshly grated Pecorino, Sardo or Asiago cheese
1 teaspoon coarse kosher salt
1 teaspoon cracked peppercorn melange (or 1/2 tsp. black pepper)
Combine first 7 ingredients in food processor or blender. mix until paste forms, stopping often to push down basil. Add both cheeses, salt and pepper; blend until smooth. Store, covered with a thin layer of olive oil, in small mason jars in your fridge. I usually use 1 heaping tablespoon per serving. Delicious with pasta, gnocchi, rice, baked-potatoes and roasted chicken, pork and steaks.
Macro Mondays "Spices and Seasonings" Theme
"Table & Domestic Etiquette"
by Mary Woodman,
London, 1920
"The right Cutlery, Glass, and Table Linen to use,
and how to Receive, and where to Seat the Guests.
Current procedure for all Receptions and Parties."
A very belated Christmas present for a friend/co-worker. This little project took longer than anticipated. My seam ripper was my best friend!
Bridal Shower Gifts, Gemell's At Bergen Point Country Club, West Babylon, Long Island, New York. Catering Hall. Traditionally, bridal showers are about preparing the bride-to-be for her new life as wife. Here, friends and family join together to equip her with the right tools. But as with most traditions, there are etiquette rules for giving wedding shower gifts.
This photo was taken of a dealer at the the Midland, Michigan Antique Festival.
Collectable textiles
This photo was in Explore: October 8, 2008 #169
I love how these turned out! The colors paired with the neutral background makes me happy! I used 9 different Shot Cotton colors in varying widths. Each placemat has a different color arrangement.
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.
Today however, we are very far from Cavendish Mews, and in fact far from London. Taking advantage of their employers’ attendance of an amusing Friday to Monday country house party in Scotland, Lettice’s maid, Edith, and her best friend Hilda, the maid of Lettice’s married Embassy Club coterie friends Dickie and Margot Channon, with permission, have arranged to take a weekend trip to Manchester where they are staying for Friday and Saturday nights, before returning to London on Sunday so that they are ready to receive their employers upon their return on Monday. Both maids landed upon the idea to visit their friend Queenie on the Saturday. She lives in the village of Alderley Edge, just outside of Manchester, which is easily accessible via the railway, allowing them to take tea with her at a small tearoom in the pretty Cheshire village.
Queenie, Edith and Hilda all used to work together for Mrs. Plaistow, the rather mean wife of a manufacturing magnate who has a Regency terrace in Pimlico. Queenie was the cheerful head parlour maid, so both Edith and Hilda as younger and less experienced lower housemaids, fell under her instruction. Queenie chucked her position at Mrs. Plaistow’s a few years ago and took a new position as a maid for two elderly spinster sisters in Cheshire to be closer to her mother, who lives in Manchester. Still in touch with Edith, Queenie writes regularly, sharing stories of her life in the big old Victorian villa she now calls home, half of which is shut up because one of the two sisters is an invalid whilst the other is in frail condition and finds it hard to access the upper floors.
However, life for Queenie proved to be not as bright as her letters indicated, and all three maids were made to feel unwelcome at Mrs. Chase’s Tearooms in Alderley Edge because of their working class backgrounds by the snobbish proprietor and equally class conscious patrons, and Queenie revealed more sad stories after they left Mrs. Chase’s establishment, leaving both her friends aghast.
Now we find ourselves back in Manchester along Deansgate* where after returning to the city from Chester by railway, Edith and Hilda are taking advantage of their free time before dinner at their cheap, but respectable, hotel for single and travelling women, by taking in a few more of the sights of Manchester and are currently shopping at a beautiful manchester and linen shop along the ground floor of a tall four storey building towards the north end of Deansgate.
The soft linens covering the surfaces of tables and counters, as well as hanging from the walls of the shop serve as a buffer against the noisy sounds outside the large plate glass windows as heavy foot traffic fills the pavement of Deansgate, and electric trams** rattle noisily along the thoroughfare, their sound mixing in with the chug of motorcars and buses and the vociferous sound of human chatter. The smell of freshly laundered linen filling the air of the establishment, and keeping out the miasma of mechanical motorcar and lorry fumes, reminds Edith of her mother, who is a laundress, and of the kitchen of her family home in Harlesden where she does all the ironing on the big, round kitchen table. Extra protection from the acrid fumes outside is provided by the fragrance of fresh flowers which stand about in pretty vases on the surfaces of tables and chests of drawers, adding a bright shock of colour to the otherwise mostly snowy white surrounds of the establishment.
“This is nice, Edith.” Hilda remarks, picking up a dainty lace doily from a round table covered with a long lace tablecloth which is covered in napery and dollies, all arranged around a squat blue and white vase filled with brightly coloured pansies. “You could add this to your glory box***.”
“Hhhmmm…” Edith mutters distractedly, glancing up from where she thumbs a bunch of crisply pressed white sheets.
“For your glory box, Edith.” Hilda says again.
Edith considers the dainty piece of diamond shaped intricate lace in her best friend’s sausage like fingers. “No, I don’t think so, Hilda. Mum has already acquired a whole lot of beautiful lace doilies for me from flea markets.”
“Yes, but just imagine having something new like this.” Hilda enthuses. “No one has ever used it before.”
“If they’ll take my grubby maid’s wage here.” Edith mutters sulkily, releasing the sheet from between her index finger and thumb.
“Here, here!” Hilda exclaims, carefully replacing the doily amidst the pieces carefully arranged for display on the table and hurries over to her friend. “You mustn’t talk like that, Edith.” She winds her arms around her friend’s back and squeezes her upper arms beneath her plum coloured coat comfortingly.
“Why not?” Edith asks grumpily. “It’s how I feel.”
“And here I was thinking I was the one most put out by Mrs. Chase’s snobbery and that of her snooty customers.”
Edith sighs with frustration. “Evidently not, Hilda.” She runs her fingers over the knobbly woven lacework of a tablecloth that has been rolled up and stacked on top of the sheets she was considering for potential purchase.
“You mustn’t let this afternoon spoil our holiday.” Hilda insists, giving Edith’s shoulders another squeeze, before releasing her and moving alongside her at the table covered in table linen. She looks her friend squarely in the face. “Don’t tar everyone with the same brush. Yes, that nasty Mrs. Chase, or whatever her name was, was a nasty snob. But you said yourself that in a big city like London or Manchester, we can blend in with everyone else, and no-one knows who we are, or what we do for a living. You’re money’s every bit as good here as some mill owner’s wife or manchester merchant.” She nods seriously.
“Oh you’re right.” Edith sighs again. “I don’t mean to be out of sorts, but it’s more than the snobbery that’s gotten to me, Hilda. It’s the other business Queenie mentioned that really upset me the most.”
Edith’s mind drifts back to the charming Cheshire village of Alderley Edge where she and Hilda had had cream teas at Mrs. Chase’s Tearooms. After hurriedly finishing their scones and tea, scoffing them in less than ladylike gulps, the three friends had retreated to the relative safety of the street, where the late winter air around them felt warmer than the atmosphere of the tearooms. Following Queenie as she walked down the high street towards the Victorian villa owned by her employers, the Miss Bradleys, Hilda and Edith remained in awkward silence as they waited for their friend to explain why they had been made to feel so unwelcome in Mrs. Chase’s. The wide street, lined with neat Victorian and Edwardian double story shops, many built of red brick with slate roofs and Mock Tudor gabling, was relatively empty, with only a handful of smartly dressed people going about their business and a smattering of automobiles and lorries trundling past them in either direction, their chugging more noticeable in a village setting than in the busy streets of London where such noises are constant.
“At least no-one can make us feel second rate here on the footpath.” Hilda had said. ‘We have just as much right to be here as anyone else.”
Finally, Queenie stopped walking and sank down onto a public bench near the kerbside. She apologised to her two friends for spoiling their visit. “I should have insisted that I come to Manchester and meet you there. It’s just that when I received your postcard****, Edith, you and Hilda had arranged everything so nicely. You’d obviously worked out the railway schedules so you knew what time you would arrive and which train to take to get back to Manchester at a reasonable hour, so I just thought I’d take you to the only tearooms I know of that are nice in Alderley Edge. I didn’t want to spoil your plans.”
Queenie went on to explain that whilst Alderley Edge was a beautiful village, living in such a small community was different to living in a big city like London, which afforded anonymity. In her new home, everyone knew who Queenie was, and that she was the maid-of-all-work to the Miss Bradleys, and dining in the same establishment as a maid did not sit well with the snobbish mistresses of the neighbourhood who frequented Mrs. Chase’s Tearooms as well.
“You really need to leave here, if this is how things are, with everyone knowing who you are and judging you unfairly for it. Edith said to Queenie in concern. “Come back to London. There are plenty of jobs for parlour maids. With your experience, you could have the pick of the lot.”
“Well, it is true that I am currently looking for a new situation.” Queenie admitted. “However, it has its own complications, and I’m not looking to come back to London. I want to stay in Manchester, so I can be closer to Mum.”
“What complications?” Hilda queried from her seat beside her friend on the bench.
“Well, I haven’t told either of you, but old Miss Ida, the infirm Miss Bradley, had a fall and died about two months ago.” Queenie elucidated. “She hit her head on the patterned tiles in the hallway. She must have been trying to go upstairs in the night, although goodness knows why. Her mind seemed to have been slipping in the months prior. She was always looking for things she thought she’d lost, and at odd times of the night. It was almost as if she couldn’t rest until she’d found what she wanted. And she called me Nellie too, which Miss Florence told me was the name of their maid when their father was still alive, and she’s been buried in the churchyard many a winter. Once I caught Miss Ida trying to go out of doors at three in the morning, dressed only in her nightdress and bedcap, barefoot and raving that she would be late for school!”
“School?” Edith asked with wide eyes.
“Like I said, she was losing her mind, and I think Miss Florence knew it, because she instructed their lawyers to summon their nephew, Mr. Skellern to come and stop for a while. He’s been staying with us ever since just before Miss Ida died, but unlike the Miss Bradleys, he’s not a nice person. He’s haughty, demanding, and more of a snob than the ladies in Mrs. Chase’s, if you can believe that.” She paused for a moment, contemplating whether to continue. “He never calls me by my name: as if calling me Queenie, like I was christened, is too lowering for him. He calls me ‘girl’ instead. ‘Girl come here!’ ‘Girl, do that.’ ‘Get out of this room at once girl.’ ‘Do as I say, girl, and don’t question me.‘ And he’s accused me of trying to thieve from the sisters, which I’d never do!”
“Of course you wouldn’t!” agreed Hilda and Edith in their friend’s defence.
“I caught him counting the silverware one afternoon, and he accused me of stealing a carving set with silver collars that belonged to his great uncle, the Miss Bradley’s father, which I had never seen. I had to go to Miss Florence in her bed to plead my case, and she cleared up the matter with Mr. Skellern.”
“How did she do that?” Hilda asked.
“She told him that the set he mentioned, which Mr. Skellern had only ever seen in a photo taken of Mr. Bradley before he was even born, had been given away as a donation for a charity auction to raise money for wounded Boer War soldiers, years before I ever came to work for the Miss Bradleys.”
“That’s awful!” Edith cried in horror at Queenie’s story.
“What’s worse is that,” Queenie blushed red as she spoke the next words. “You implied in Mrs. Chase’s that I might have been with child, which I’m not,” She put up her careworn hands in defence of herself. “But only because luck’s a fortune.”
“Did Mr. Skellern try and take advantage of you?” Edith asked Queenie anxiously.
Queenie confirmed Edith’s worst fears with a shallow nod. “In the library. I was dusting the books, at his instruction, and was up the library steps. He tried to get his hands up under my skirt, and my camiknickers***** from John Lewis****** down, but I fought him off.”
“That’s disgusting!” Hilda burst hotly. “Good for you, Queenie!”
“Yes, but Mr. Skellern took offence to my refusal of his advances, and now I’m concerned that he’s trying to put his aunt into a convalescent home. He keeps threatening to dismiss me without a reference, and I’ve only been saved from that disaster by Miss Florence’s presence. Miss Florence won’t hear a bad word said about her nephew, nor will she contemplate writing me a reference because as far as she is concerned, she isn’t leaving her home, and I’ve been very happy within the employ of she and her sister. So, I’m trying to find a job as a hotel chambermaid in Manchester.”
“A chambermaid, Queenie?” Hilda asked in horror.
“They are less picky about references, and the pay’s better.” Queenie admitted a little guiltily.
“But you may be assaulted by a man like Mr. Skellern, Queenie!” Edith gasped. “You’ve heard the stories.”
“I don’t have many other options without a reference from Miss Florence. Thus is the plight of a poor, humble parlour maid. I could do far worse than be a hotel chambermaid, Edith.” Queenie cocked her eyebrow knowingly. “I’ve been told by more than Mr. Skellern that I’m pretty.”
“Don’t even consider it, Queenie!” Hilda shuddered. “Please!”
“Not all men are like Mr. Skellern.” Queenie replied with a cheeky glint in her eyes. “There have to be nice, wealthy men out there, who are just waiting to meet their Cinderella and sweep her from the ashes.”
The subtle clearing of a male throat near to her interrupts Edith’s reminisces about the conversation she and Hild had with Queenie in Alerley Edge earlier in the day. She gasps and looks to her left.
“I’m so sorry, madam.” a suited man says politely in an educated Mancunian accent. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“It’s quite alright.” Hilda replies for her friend.
“I was just wondering whether there was anything I could assist you with, today, ladies.” he goes on.
“Ladies?” Edith pulls a face and nods at Hilda. “Well!”
“It isn’t often we get two such well dressed visitors from London in our humble establishment. You are from London, aren’t you, ladies?”
“Indeed we are!” Hilda answers for she and Edith in surprise.
“It’s your accents.” the floor walker goes on, answering Hilda’s unspoken question. “You’re either from London, or perhaps Cheshire?”
“London, most definitely.” Edith affirms.
“Then is there anything I can show you two London ladies that might be of interest?” he asks politely.
“See, I told you,” Hilda hisses to her best friend. “They aren’t all like Mrs. Chase and her cronies.”
Edith smiles at her friend before addressing the male assistant. “I was wondering what you had in the way of napkins, but not white ones. I’m rather partial to ecru or yellow.”
“Well, as you may have seen on the table over there,” he indicates with a sweeping, open palmed gesture to the round table where Hilda had found the dainty diamond shaped doily. “We do have some rather pretty mats with a yellow embroidered trim, and some rather fetching yellow napkins.” He reaches under the counter, out of sight of Edith and Hilda, and withdraws several placemats and napkins neatly folded and pressed into triangles. “Perhaps these might be of interest.”
*Deansgate is one of Manchester’s oldest thoroughfares. In Roman times its route passed close to the Roman fort of Mamucium and led from the River Medlock where there was a ford and the road to Deva (now Chester). Part of it was called Aldport Lane from Saxon times. (Aldport was the Saxon name for Castlefield). Until the 1730s the area was rural but became built up after the development of a quay on the river. The road is named after the lost River Dene, which may have flowed along the Hanging Ditch connecting the River Irk to the River Irwell at the street's northern end. ‘Gate’ derives from the Norse gata, meaning way. By the late Nineteenth Century Deansgate was an area of varied uses: its northern end had shopping and substantial office buildings while further south were slums and a working-class area around St John's Church.
**In the first half of the Twentieth Century, Deansgate was a route for trams operated by the Manchester Corporation Tramways, and subsequently carried numerous bus services when the trams were decommissioned.
***A hope chest, also called dowry chest, cedar chest, trousseau chest, or glory box is a piece of furniture once commonly used by unmarried young women to collect items, such as clothing and household linen, in anticipation of married life.
****One hundred years ago, postcards were the most common and easiest way to communicate with loved ones not only across countries whilst on holidays, but across neighbourhoods on a daily basis with the minutiae of life on them. This is because unlike today where mail is delivered on a daily basis, there were several deliveries done a day. At the height of the postcard mania in 1903, London residents could have as many as twelve separate visits from the mailman.
*****A camiknicker is a one piece form of lingerie which comprises a camisole top, and loose French Knicker style bottom. They are normally loose fitting enabling the wearer to step into them although some feature poppers or buttons at one side to give a more fitted look or a self tie belt to accentuate the wearer’s figure.
******John Lewis opened a drapery shop at 132 Oxford Street, London, in 1864. Born in Shepton Mallet in Somerset in 1836, he had been apprenticed at fourteen to a linen draper in Wells. He came to London in 1856 and worked as a salesman for Peter Robinson, an Oxford Street draper, rising to be his silk buyer. In 1864, he declined Robinson's offer of a partnership, and rented his own premises on the north side of Oxford Street, on part of the site now occupied by the department store which bears his name. There he sold silk and woollen cloth and haberdashery. His retailing philosophy was to buy good quality merchandise and sell it at a modest mark up. Although he carried a wide range of merchandise, he was less concerned about displaying it and never advertised it. His skill lay in sourcing the goods he sold, and most mornings he would go to the City of London, accompanied by a man with a hand barrow. Later he would make trips to Paris to buy silks. It is said that in 1905 John Lewis walked from Oxford Street to Sloane Square with twenty £1000 notes in his pocket and bought the Peter Jones department store. Sales at Peter Jones had been falling since 1902 and its new owner failed to reverse the trend. In 1914 he handed control of the store to his son Spedan. Lewis was regarded as an autocratic employer, prone to dismissing staff arbitrarily. The stores had difficulty retaining staff (there was a strike in 1920) and performed poorly compared to his rivals such as Whiteleys, Gorringes and Owen Owen. His management style led to conflict with his sons who disagreed with his business methods. It was only after his death that the company was transformed into the John Lewis Partnership, a worker co-operative. By the 1920s, when this story is set, there were John Lewis stores up and down Britain, including in Manchester. Today located in the Trafford Centre, John Lewis Manchester is one of the largest department stores in Europe, carrying half a million product lines.
This may look like a wonderful array of linens you might like to lay upon your table, but you might need a smaller surface for them, as this whole scene is made up of 1:12 size miniatures from my miniatures collection including pieces I have had since I was a child.
Fun thing to look for in this tableau include:
All the lace around the shop come from different places, including: Kathleen Knight’s Dolls House Shop in the United Kingdom, Mick and Marie’s Miniatures in the United Kingdom, and Beautifully Handmade Miniatures in Kettering. There are also a few miniature artisan pieces from private collectors and there are even a few life size lace doilies cleverly disguised in this scene. The two lace doilies on the central table in the midground I have had since I was a child, and were acquired from a high street specialist shop who stocked 1:12 size miniatures. The placemats with their hand sewn gold trim and the lemon yellow napkins I acquired along with an artisan picnic basket from America. The lace tablecloth on the round central table is in reality a small lace doily that I bought from an antique shop in Inglewood in provincial Victoria. The dainty floral edged piece hanging on the wall at the back to the far left also came from there. The blue and yellow embroidered floral cloth in the foreground is an old hand embroidered doily from the 1920s that I have had in my possession for a long time. The starched sheets tied with ribbon on the table in the foreground and the clothes horse you can just see the edge of to the left of the photo come from Kathleen Knight’s Dolls House Shop.
All the floral arrangements come from Mick and Marie’s Miniatures in the United Kingdom.
Edith’s green handbag and Hilda’s brown one are handmade from soft leather is part of a larger collection of hats and bags that I bought from an American miniature collector Marilyn Bickel.
The black umbrella came from an online stockist of 1:12 miniatures on E-Bay.
Another football season will be here before you know it! You'll be the envy of the Who Dats with this black and gold thread crochet doily duo. Measuring 6.5 inches across, theese doilies are crafted with #10 crochet cotton and a #7 steel hook.
One doily is in shiny gold spangle thread. The other is solid black.
Perfect under bowls of peanuts, bobble heads, voodoo candles
When dressing a stage for a political event, Flags are a must. Seven foot pole with base included.
Flag Protocol: When used on a speaker's platform, the flag, if displayed flat, should be displayed above and behind the speaker. When displayed from a staff in a church or public auditorium, the flag of the United States of America should hold the position of superior prominence, in advance of the audience, and in the position of honor at the clergyman's or speaker's right as he faces the audience. Any other flag so displayed should be placed on the left of the clergyman or speaker or to the right of the audience. CLICK HERE For a printable list of flag protocols:
Headline: April 23- We're off Story: After a check that we had everything, Fred's parents took us to the airport. We were afraid that we would be late, but our luck was holding and we were fine. As a matter of fact, our luck was holding so well that we were delayed 2 hours becuase of an electrical problem in the plane. Since the 777 is completely electronic, it won't fly if the computers indicate a problem. We finally get off of the ground, and the person in back of us gets a small shower courtesy of the "condensation problem" over the wing. "It happens all of the time" the flight attendent assured us. The thought of a water condensation problem on an electronically controlled airplane was a little worrisome.
Headline: 4/24- England day 1 Story: We are so jetlagged! We decide not to do much that day except sleep. We arrived at the Wokefield Executive Center, which is near Mortimer and on 200plus acres. It is very green and very pretty. The food is not great, but oh well.
Headline: 4/25- England day 2 Story: Today was the day to go exploring. We took the train into London and took our first tube trip to Baker Station. We walked along Baker Street of Sherlock Holmes fame, saw the really long line at Mdm. Tousand's. We took a tour around London and saw some great sights. This helped us get oriented to London. The architecture is amazing! It makes Dallas look really boring. We ate at a pub (mashed potatoes like glue) and wore ourselves out. We went on a river tour of the Thames and had a great view of Parliment. The Tower of London was neat, and Fred took a "picture" of me with a Beefeater. When we asked if I could get my picture taken with him, he gently reminded me that "pictures are drawn, photos are taken" :). The gardens and parks around London are amazing. I never thought I'd see this much green in the middle of the city. There are flowers everywhere, and I'm abosorbing it all so that I can remember it during our hot Texas summers. We got back to Paddington station, grabbed some burgers at the Burger King takeout, had drinks with Keith (one of Fred's co-workers), and drag ourselves to bed.
Headline: 4/25- England day 3 Story: Off we go to tour London again. This time we are taking the other two routes and Keith is coming with us. We got an extra day because the conference doesn't start until Thursday. We tried to take a picture of the statue of Paddington Bear at Paddington station, but we're told it isn't allowed. The second tour takes us by the V& A and Harrod's. We are taking so many pictures! We love our Cannon APS camera. It lets us change the film and lens quickly. The blue line is the museum line, which takes us by the British Museum and the V & A. The weather is wonderful, and I am having so much fun!
Headline: 4/27- England day 4 Story: Teri's off to shop in London! First stop, Covent Garden. This was so cool! There are tons of shops and I go exploring. There is a juggler performing and tons of people. The china shop has beautiful china and I'm glad that I have a full set of China so that I'm not tempted to buy anything. The next stop on my agenda was Liberty's, and I walked through Picadilly square to get there. Along the way I picked up cashmere and wool scarves for this winter. Along the way, I got lost. By wondering around, I found Soho, which was the general direction that I intended to go. In finding Soho, I found the fabric shops. At Soho Silks, I found some wonderful washed silks that are going to be perfect for scarves and had a great conversation with the owners. After a little more strolling, I found another fabric shop and was stunned by the amazing fabrics to be had. There were embroidered, beaded, and woven fabrics like I'd never seen before. The fabrics were every hue and texture that the small shop could have stuffed in. I could have spent days and a great deal of money in there. After finding Crabtree and Evelyn (for the jojoba lip balm that works like magic and tastes better than carmex), a pub lunch of "bangers and mash" (susauge and mashed potatoes) that were flavorless, I finally found Liberty's. What a wonderful place to look at fabric. I say look because the fabrics were beautiful, but very expensive. They had designer silks and wonderful satins. I got to see fabric that costs 1000 pounds ($1600) to the meter! It was almost overwhelming. After a fun but exhausting day, I went back to the hotel and showed Fred my treasures. Next stop, Portobello Road.
Headline: 4/28- England day 5 Story: Another day of shopping! This time, I have one place in mind to go shopping and one thing I am intent on finding. I'm off to Portobello Road for a tablecloth. I love tablelinens, and I wanted something from England. First stop was to get the film developed in Redding. While waiting for it to develop, I went wandering. To what should my wondering eyes should appear, but a decorator's shop having a moving sale! I went down to the basement and found the most amazing fabrics (very english) that I could use on my Scarbourgh Faire costume for very little money. I was thrilled. I bought those that I couldn't leave without and picked up my film. Now, what am I going to do with these packages while shopping in London? Luckily, Paddington Station has a "Left Luggage" business that for a fee will hold you packages for you. According to the map, Portobello Road was supposed to be right near the tube station. Needless to say, I got lost again. I didn't mind though, because I saw some of the prettiest homes and private small gardens in my tour. The homes were elegant, the roads were quiet, and I felt like I'd stepped into a Victorian novel. After much wandering, I finally found Portobello Road. In direct contrast to the quiet of the earlier streets, Portobello Road was a long street of vendors selling mostly flowers and fruit. Because it was Friday, most of the antique dealers were closed, but it was fun to stroll down the Road all the same. I'd been wondering where people who live in London did their grocery shopping, and it seemed that this was one of the places. I wish I had brought my camera, but I had left in in the hotel room. There were folks of many nationalities selling stuff. I bought and english pastry from an amish woman and some olives from a middle eastern stall. About half way down the road, I finally found my tablecloth. It was damask and had a pattern of fluer-dlies and shamrocks all over it, which seemed perfect. I finally finished my walk and happened upon a perfect little park in the middle of some apartments to have my lunch. It was wonderful to see this perfectly maintained park where no tourist is generally going to find it. After lunch, I went to find Bond Street. A short tube ride was all that was required. I wanted to see all of the really expensive stuff I couldn't afford, just for fun. It had started to rain, and my umbrella was with my stuff in Paddington Station, but that's fine. My first stop was to an antique jewerly store. The most amazing Art Deco jewlery was to be had for more money that I possessed. The jewlery stores had pink and yellow diamonds, and pearls the size of marbles. The people who shopped there didn't even have to open thier own doors, because most stores had doormen. After all of this affluence, I was ready to go back to the hotel. Besides, I had to pack to go to France
Headline: 4/29- We're off to Paris Story: We're off to Paris. To save money, we decide to take the tubes to the Chunnel (Eurostar) departure point. What a mistake! Oh well, lessons learned. We decided to go first class on the Eurostar for the leg room and becuase I didn't want to compete as much for room for our luggage. We settled in and had lunch served to us. The food was great! What a wonderful taste of what was to come. After a few hours, we landed in Paris. By then, I had a splitting headache, and I'm afraid we took the first cab that approached us. He took us for a ride in more ways than one. He overcharged us by about 2X, but the ride to the hotel was interesting. He went across 4 lanes of traffic to make a left hand turn and went down the wrong way on the bus lane. More than that I didn't want to know. We made it to the Hotel Combon in one piece, took a short nap, and walked to the Concorde (about a block away). From there we could see the Eiffel Tower and the Champs E'Lessey light up at night. Talk about romantic. We then went and had a great meal at the resturant across the street. My salmon was terriffic and my creme brulle had the perfect crust. No wimpy vanilla pudding like I was used to. Time for bed. Tomarrow, sightseeing.
Headline: 4/30-Paris day 2 Story: Today we go sightseeing! We had purchased tour bus tickets in at the Eurostar for Paris, and today we planned to make full use out of them. We did the complete tour, and came back around to do the Lourve. Paris is so cool! Everything is so old! Unlike London, who had to reconstruct everything after the Great Fire and the Blitz, much of Paris is still very old. Like London, the city has some wonderful parks. It was so cool to see things like the Sorborne, that I had only read about. The Lourve was the only place that we went into that day, but what an amazing couple of hours! We saw the Mona Lisa, the Venus d'Milo, Winged Victory (turns out, the origional is smaller than the reproduction in front of Old Main at TWU), and more treasures than I can count. As amazing as the treasures on the walls were the amazing ceilings and floors. The marble piecework simply could not be reproduced today for less than a fortune. As a history major, I loved the Greek and Roman statutes and the frescos from Pompaii. We had dinner in the same resturant as the other night, and while to food wasn't quite as good, the conversation was interesting. We sat next to a couple of women from the US who worked in a museum, and the told wonderful stories of some of the places in the world they had been. We decided to spend one more day in Paris, since we've not begun to see everything we want to see.
Headline: May 1st-Paris day 3 Story: Today is the day for sightseeing since it's a holiday and all of the shops are closed. First stop is the Eiffel Tower. We want to get there early because the line was so long yesterday and there are many other things we want to do today. The gardens at the tower are so pretty that we have to get pictures. We're a little worried because it is so foggy, but we figure it will burn off. In the meantime it is very cold. I don't mind becuase it gives me the excuse to cuddle with Fred. Wouldn't you know it, the fog didn't burn off. We did go to the top of the tower, with me right next to the glass. There is nothing between me and a very long fall expect a piece of glass, and I have to close my eyes. We finally get to the top and walk around with our heads in the clouds. By this time, I'm still cold and hungry, so I need something to eat. We get hot chocolate and a croissant and find out how they make hot dogs here. They take a piece of French bread, put it in machine that makes a hole in the center, and slide a hot dog into the hole. Interesting. Next stop is Notre Dame. What an amazing place. It is so old that the history is almost suffacating, but awe inspiring at the same time. The windows are magnificant, and I wouldn't have traded the experience for anything. After the tour, we saw a performer and although we didn't understand any of the jokes (it was all in French), it was still fun. We were ready to go back, and went over to the tour stop. What we didn't realize is that the full tours end at 4:30, and we had missed the last one. We then had a long but interesting walk back to hotel, and a long nap. By the time we woke up, we were both hungry. We walked down the Champs, which was romantic. I remembered a resturant that said Pizza, and that's where we stopped to eat. It turned out to be a delicious Italian resturant. Fred had veal and I had steak, and we loved it. After dinner we headed back to the hotel.
Headline: 5/2- Paris day 4 Story: Today was in interesting day. Teri had more fun than Fred did because Teri can be an idiot sometimes. We needed to get our laundry done before wewent to England, so I got it ready to go. Unfortunatly, I accidently sent all of Fred's pants down, so he was stuck in the Hotel room while I went window shopping and taking photographs. When the laundry came back, we went on a very romantic cruise down the river Siene. It was a dinner cruise, and the food was fabulous. I had foie gras for the first time, and it was delicious. The cruise had a live band, and we had a lot of fun.
Headline: 5-3 back to London Story: We went back to London today, and said goodbye to Paris regretfully. We really enjoyed Paris. The Chunnel ride back to London was peaceful, and we went to our hotel in London. After being pampered by the Hotel Cambon in Paris, the London Town Hotel was a letdown after the Hotel Cambon in Paris. We were determined to have a good meal in London, so we hunted out the Texas Embassy. This is where when Texas was it's own country they had an embassy in London, and they serve Tex-Mex. Fred decided that they could keep thier sign since they tried to import Shiner, but Shiner wouldn't agree. I never thought that I could miss flour tortillas, but they tasted really good that night. We met another Texan that night and sent him over a beer. It was nice to have a bit of home. After dinner, we went to the London Eye, which was pretty cool. It was cold and windy, but the walk was neat except for the grafitti near Whitehall from May day. The socialist and the anarchists had sprayed things like "kill capitalism before it kills us" everywhere, which was a pathetic sight. We went back to the hotel afterwards, and tried to go to sleep. The walls were thin, so it wasn't easy but we pervailed.
Headline: 5-5 Heading home Story: Well, we got our shot of adreneline. The desk person slept through our wake-up call! Thank goodness Fred is a morning person and woke up at 5:35. We got ready in a hurry, grabbed our bags and threw ourselves in the Taxi. The plane ride home was fine. I finally got to see American Beauty, and if that is what suburbia is like, I don't know if I want to get to know all of my neighbors! Mansfield Park was better, and we were glad to get home. Fred's parents picked us up and we had a good time telling stories and sharing pictures and pizza. I will always remember our trip as an amazing experience. I hope you enjoyed the stories. Teri and Fred
Colour: Pomme
100% washed linen - lin lavé
Embroidered by hand
Available in various colours
For more information about sizes and colours and ordering, please send mail to info@decopur.com