Curse the iPhone and all its wonderous techie delights. Where I used to delight in spending hours puzzling over problems like where I'd seen an actor before, or who so-and-so used to be married to, now I just Google it.
My husband (a BlackBerry devotee - zzzzzz) takes the piss out of me constantly about it, but I like answers - and quick, damnit. I may have to stop before my memory is as shot as my hearing seems to be (too many raves, too few earplugs, but no regrets). For now though, I thought you voyeurs might like an insight into what I've been searching this week...
Thursday, 21 July 2011
Thursday, 30 June 2011
How to replace deckchair fabric
After being given two deckchairs (one faded, one with just its frame), I thought I'd have a go at doing them up for summer. A quick Google revealed an easy 'how to replace-deckchair fabric' tutorial on the Guardian site, as well as several good canvas companies, so I was all set.
Now, those of you who know me will know that I rarely refuse a freebie and have a keen eye for a project. I'm always taking things home to be painted, sewn, recovered, stuck down, changed or repaired in some way. Seeing potential isn't a problem for me. Realising it, on the other hand...
Now, those of you who know me will know that I rarely refuse a freebie and have a keen eye for a project. I'm always taking things home to be painted, sewn, recovered, stuck down, changed or repaired in some way. Seeing potential isn't a problem for me. Realising it, on the other hand...
Most of these projects never see the light of day. They're at the back of the wardrobe with all the projects (at the moment there's neglected fabric for cushion covers, table runners and bunting, all hiding in the unpainted chest of drawers that I've had for about three years).
I was determined to do this though and gave myself the deadline of Mr Haines' birthday barbie (Saturday).
And here it is – my step-by-step guide to recovering a deckchair.
1. Choose some cheerful canvas. I got mine from Deckchair Stripes (who were brilliant - get selection and I received the material in two days. Always go for decent heavyweight material or you risk embarassing rips/falling through the seat scenarios.
Saturday, 4 June 2011
Maltby Street market in pictures
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| Ales from The Kernel Brewery - I bought Mr Haines a bottle for when he gets back from Bath |
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| Flowers. Yes, that's about as specific as I can be |
The weekend guide: SE London (part two)
Sorry for the break in service but here's the rest of what's on offer in the south east this weekend.
WEST NORWOOD FEAST
Around Norwood High Street, SE27
Sunday 10am-4pm (first Sunday of every month)
Space Makers, the driving force behind the regeneration of Brixton Village, have been weaving a little of their market magic in West Norwood for a few months now. Some friends have been a couple of times and say it's small and friendly and getting better every time they go.
WEST NORWOOD FEAST
Around Norwood High Street, SE27
Sunday 10am-4pm (first Sunday of every month)
Space Makers, the driving force behind the regeneration of Brixton Village, have been weaving a little of their market magic in West Norwood for a few months now. Some friends have been a couple of times and say it's small and friendly and getting better every time they go.
The weekend guide: SE London (part one)
I'm a big fan of SE London. I live here (East Dulwich) and work here (Bankside) so am keen to champion its best bits - of which there are many.
I noticed loads of stuff about SE15 (Peckham) in Time Out last week so am glad to see that others are realising that more goes on round here than stabbings on Rye Lane. Although by even typing that I feel like I'm helping perpetuate that myth. It doesn't happen that often
This weekend (4-5 June) is one of those where there's loads going on, so if you're looking for some inspiration try these:
MALTBY STREET MARKET
Maltby Street, London SE1
Saturdays 9am-2pm
An alternative to busy Borough for London's discerning foodies, this little street market under some railway arches is garnering a reputation for the place to be seen of a Saturday morning. I've yet to visit (I'm heading there once I've written this) but have heard good things.
I noticed loads of stuff about SE15 (Peckham) in Time Out last week so am glad to see that others are realising that more goes on round here than stabbings on Rye Lane. Although by even typing that I feel like I'm helping perpetuate that myth. It doesn't happen that often
This weekend (4-5 June) is one of those where there's loads going on, so if you're looking for some inspiration try these:
MALTBY STREET MARKET
Maltby Street, London SE1
Saturdays 9am-2pm
An alternative to busy Borough for London's discerning foodies, this little street market under some railway arches is garnering a reputation for the place to be seen of a Saturday morning. I've yet to visit (I'm heading there once I've written this) but have heard good things.
Life on the edge
If there's one thing you can be sure about in life, it's that you can never be sure about life. 'You never know what's around the corner' or 'you could be hit by a bus tomorrow' are such cliches. But they're true.
I'm the queen of putting things off till tomorrow or leaving things till the last minute. 'It's fine,' I tell myself. 'I've got plenty of time.' And usually I do, but that's the arrogance of youth (early 30s is still young, thank you).
Often the experiences lurking behind these 'corners' everyone likes to bang on about are amazing, life-affirming, heart-lifting, positive. In my 33 years, I'd say I've had my fair share of these, and feel hugely grateful for that.
But sometimes, something happens that's just so sad and shocking and awful that your heart feels like it's shattered into tiny little pieces. Pieces that are too small and numerous you'll never be able to find them all and put them back together, even if you had the right glue. That's how I feel today, for my oldest friend who's just lost her husband to cancer. He was 45 and they'd been married less than three years. It's not just her heart that's in bits, it's her whole world.
I'm the queen of putting things off till tomorrow or leaving things till the last minute. 'It's fine,' I tell myself. 'I've got plenty of time.' And usually I do, but that's the arrogance of youth (early 30s is still young, thank you).
Often the experiences lurking behind these 'corners' everyone likes to bang on about are amazing, life-affirming, heart-lifting, positive. In my 33 years, I'd say I've had my fair share of these, and feel hugely grateful for that.
But sometimes, something happens that's just so sad and shocking and awful that your heart feels like it's shattered into tiny little pieces. Pieces that are too small and numerous you'll never be able to find them all and put them back together, even if you had the right glue. That's how I feel today, for my oldest friend who's just lost her husband to cancer. He was 45 and they'd been married less than three years. It's not just her heart that's in bits, it's her whole world.
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