On the way home from granny and grandad’s on Wednesday we stopped at the ancient henge at Avebury. It’s a glorious monument set in beautiful wiltshire countryside. We only had a brief stop, but will deffo be back for longer next time.
On Tuesday (the day I was starving ) I went to see my best friend at her house and she told me all about this amazing place called the scrap store. This is a local initiative where businesses donate all the stuff they don’t want for arts and crafts. There is one in Lacock in Wiltshire, one in Dorchester for Dorset and one in Yeovil for Somerset (we went to the Yeovil one). I don’t know if they’re nationwide or just peculiar to this part of the world. But they are AMAZING. There is everything you could ever possibly want for a project – empty jars, empty washing up liquid bottles, scraps of paper, bits of sticky back plastic, cotton, fabric. You name it, it was there! And you could fill an entire basket for £5.60 or a trolley for £16. A hoarders paradise! The big M filled her basket with damask fabric samples she’s planning on making a patchwork dress, patchwork curtains, patchwork draught excluders, patchwork pin dogs and erm lots more patchwork things
Yesterday we made great use of both the fine weather and our National Trust membership by visiting a local property called Barrington Court.
I liked the higgledy piggledyness of the house and had über fun sliding around the highly polished floors.
It has an interesting recent history having been the NT’s first major acquisition around the turn of the century (that’s a really long time ago!). However, it was fraught with money issues so the trust leased it to the Lyle family of the sugar fame and they renovated it completely. They also installed a very cool ‘thunder box’ in the bathroom. That was my other favourite bit.
In other news it’s my birthday in a week. I’m very excited as I saw my present (wrapped up) and it’s big….
They (not sure who) say it’s good luck if a bird poos on you (although a seagull once did it’s business above my gran-gran and broke her nose… I don’t think she felt particularly lucky that day!). They also say it’s lucky to catch a falling leaf.
Today a conker fell on the hood of my buggy. Now this might not be an unusual occurrence in the depth of Devon, but I think it’s got to be a fairly uncommon thing to happen in central London! But low and behold there is a horse chestnut tree slap bang on the Pentonville Road.
In a quiet corner of Smithfield, just by St Bart’s, Benedict Cumberbatch fans have converted a red London phone box into a shrine, marking the place where Sherlock allegedly died by throwing himself off the roof, in the hit BBC drama.
It looks like people have come on the pilgrimage from far and wide (both home and abroad) with their messages of praise. I’m too young to watch stuff like that as it’s past my bedtime, but if there was a shrine to my hero Peter Rabbit (I love both the books and the TV cartoon) I’d probably visit it!