French Impressions

I wrote earlier that I don't normally enter giveaways, and on the whole that is true - I often don't even read a post if the subject mentions a giveaway.  However, I did succumb to temptation on Tish's blog some time back when she was offering a book on interior design by her friend, Betty Lou Phillips.  Tish borrowed some of the book's text about French manners that was quite interesting and I thought I might pick up some more ideas.

I didn't even realise I'd won until Tish got in touch - the one post of hers that I miss and it has good news for me!  Then I didn't hear anything and decided I must not have played the game right; I'm clueless about how a lot of things work in the blog world.  Anyhow, my book came by parcel post last week, completely out of the blue!   A huge book all the way from Dallas!  What fun!

Now, you and I know that unless I win the lottery (slightly unlikely as I've never bought a ticket), I'm not likely to employ a decorator.  That said, I read loads of decorating blogs for inspiration; as in inspiration to do housework as much as do decorate.  However, it has occurred to me that given that we live in a slightly older pile of bricks, there is always the odd crack here or there that needs addressed.  For this reason (and Bill's retired anyhow, right?) re-decorating opportunities come around a bit more often than if we lived in a modern house. 


Whilst a good number of the ideas in French Impressions work best with ultra high ceilings, wood panelled walls, huge French windows and stone spiral staircases, there was a room I really loved.  The colour scheme was largely cream and brown neutrals, but with bright red accents:  a high backed chair, a book, a lampshade, some flowers.  The red drew the eye around the room looking for more red.  It was lovely.   Later, it dawned on me that I'd used these colours in our kitchen!   My favourite room appears on Tish's website as well, so I'm guessing she liked it, too. 

Lovely pictures aside, Betty Lou also highlights some specific ideas in the link above, in case you are like me and don't always see what you are looking at.  Sometimes I need ideas spelled out for me in words as well.

Bill had a look through the book and also admired the architecture.  One thing that struck him, though, was how shiny and new everything looked, which he thought gave it away as being aimed at the American market.  Europeans don't appreciate shiny newness in the same way.   Betty Lou's tips at the lower end of the cost scale include

Be very selective when purchasing the new.

and

Seat the humble across from the haughty, the ordinary across from the extraordinary; good taste is not about personal wealth or visual extravagance.

The Daily Connoisseur describes it as rejection of new materialism.  British interior designer, Nicky Haslam, describes this idea using the words 'patina' and 'pleasant decay'.  


One of my favourite books, Watching the English, describes the different ways in which the English classes decorate their homes:  

...the way in which we arrange, furnish and decorate our homes is largely determined by social class.  This has little or nothing to do with wealth.  Upper-class and upper-middle-class homes tend to be shabby, frayed and unkempt in a way no middle-middle or lower-middle would tolearate, and the homes of the wealthiest working-class nouveaux-riches are full of extremely expensive items that the uppers and upper-middles regard as the height of vulgarity. 

I don't claim to be upper anything, but I do prefer my old, eclectic furniture to anything too new and grand.  So, next time you look around and think everything looks a bit 'used', just tell yourself it's very 'European'! 

The WI

Some time back I wrote about wanting to find things to do that were closer to home and said I'd found something practically in my back garden.  What I found was the local meeting of the Women's Institute.  Now, before you start thinking Calendar Girls, I would like to point out that that was a very specific case and it was down in rural Yorkshire where there is hardly anything to do but milk the cows.

Funny enough, in some ways the WI almost ties in with my love of all things inter-war.  It began in 1915 with the aim of revitalising rural communities and encouraging women to become more involved in producing food during the first world war.    The focus has recently moved to an 'urban version' apparently, but I know the WI to be about homemaking / crafting skills and that's what attracted me.

I was intrigued when I read that this was a 'Young WI', though I did wonder if that would disqualify me, being 55 this year; I didn't want to ruin the youngsters' fun.  I was interested enough to ask the running club committee to move their meetings to the second week of the month, but then it took me several months to get up the nerve to visit.  I finally rang the Northumberland office and asked what was meant by 'Young WI'.  It turns out that the WI meetings have been stereotyped as having an average age of about 70, with members all having known everyone for about 50 years.  It can be hard to break into and feel a part of a group that well entrenched.  (That said, it pretty much describes my sewing ladies' group and I've always felt welcomed and embraced there, but then they would mostly describe themselves as 'working class' and a friend commented that she was surprised I would join the WI, it being so very 'middle class'.)  I was much encouraged to go along and visit the meeting and so I did.

I've been to one other WI meeting, back when I worked up in Morpeth.  The very cheerful, practical woman who was my secretary was a long term member of her WI meeting, having served in every administrative office at least several times.  The average age was older and my first sense of being foreign came when everyone stood and sang 'Jerusalem'...  I still remember the speaker:  he was a middle aged man recently retired from Northumbria police.  He talked about his career, where at the beginning as the new kid it was customary for him to make the tea.  He told funny stories about his first beat and sad stories about his work in the drug unit.  One had a sense that he had progressed well and had a successful career.  However about the time he retired, his wife finally got her wish:  to open a tea shoppe in Whitley Bay.  The address was (is) 129 Park View and at various points in his talk he would stop and have us all chant that address.  He ended his talk by saying he was back at making the tea again.  The meeting ended with the results of some floral arrangement competition.  I never went back, Ulgham being a fair distance from where I lived.

So, what was the meeting like that I attended?  Mostly full of 30-somethings, but there were nearly a dozen visitors, many closer to my age.  The speaker was a woman about 70 years old, from Riding Mill.   The title of her talk was 'My Year Behind the Veil'.  She immediately informed us that she hadn't ever been a nun - nor a belly dancer.  She had been married to a man from Iraq during the late 60s and she told us - for more than an hour - about the difficult circumstances she found herself in.  Her father was understandably upset with her for marrying 'the only poor Arab in all of Arabia'.  She'd no idea she would end up living as one of a household of 13 in three rooms over a shop.  The vast cultural and religious differences, her mother-in-law's superstitious nature, the grinding poverty and her great love for her husband all served to keep us spellbound for the whole evening.  She managed to escape Baghdad and return to England when her infant daughter became very ill and it turned out that an airplane ticket back to the NHS was more affordable than medical care; fortunately her husband valued his daughter more than his mother did.  It was altogether an amazing story and well worth the £2.50 I paid for tea and cake as a visitor.

The President of our meeting informed us that future plans include a visit from the local chocolatier and Sadie the Bra Lady.  I plan to return with my £30 membership fee and by the time you read this, will likely have experienced my first taste of 'zumba'.   I mentioned to her that folks at my running club seemed to think 'Calendar Girls' when I said 'WI', but that I was keeping my clothes on.  She said, "Don't be so sure about that!" 

Whipped

Bill and I have been dragging around for a couple of days with some sort of headache-y virus.  He's apparently recovered (and is currently doing my head in Hoovering) but I'm still sapped.  Not tired enough to sleep but too woolly-brained to think, it's annoying more than anything.

Anyhow, keeping my promise and making another - this will be the last etymological post for a while - I just thought it amusing to learn that

...'To whip' has such derivative senses as 'to move smartly or nimbly', whence that swift and lively dog the whippet.  Note also whippersnapper, one who snaps at the whip, presumption implying insignificance...

Which led me to wonder about the term as it is used in British politics, though it is an area I don't ever really try to understand.  I'm afraid I lost all respect for the lot of them one day when I was shopping in my local charity shop and they had the radio on.  It was a broadcast of a Parliamentary debate and notwithstanding the polysyllabic words and use of polite titles, the tone of voice used by both sides convinced me they were all wearing sunbonnets and diapers, sitting in a box, spitting out their dummies (called 'pacifiers' in OKC, 'binkies' in SLC) and slinging sand at one another.   The point appeared not to be to conduct business but to denigrate and humiliate the opposing party.  I couldn't bear listening to my (40%) taxes being wasted and I left the shop.  From the little I hear lately it's not much better on the other side of the pond, sadly.  So, where was I?  

Oh yes, whip.  Everyone knows that Brits are rather kinky but I always did wonder what the word meant in the political sense.  According to Wikipedia

A whip is an official in a political party whose primary purpose is to ensure party discipline in a legislature. Whips are party 'enforcers', who typically offer inducements and threaten punishments for party members to ensure that they vote according to the official party policy. A whip's role is also to ensure that the elected representatives of their party are in attendance when important votes are taken. The usage comes from the hunting term whipping in, i.e. preventing hounds from wandering away from the pack.

I remembering also hearing the term 'three-line-whip' early on at work.  I gathered from the context that it meant we had to show up somewhere, but now I can share that:

In the United Kingdom, there are three categories of whip that are issued on particular business. An express instruction how to vote could constitute a breach of parliamentary privilege, so the party's wishes are expressed unequivocally but indirectly. These whips are issued to MPs in the form of a letter outlining the Parliamentary schedule, with a sentence such as "Your attendance is absolutely essential" next to each debate in which there will be a vote, underlined one, two or three times according to the severity of the whip:

• A single-line whip is a guide to what the party's policy would indicate, and notification of when the vote is expected to take place; this is non-binding for attendance or voting.
• A two-line whip, sometimes known as a double-line whip, is an instruction to attend and vote; partially binding for voting, attendance required unless prior permission given by the whip.
• A three-line whip is a strict instruction to attend and vote, breach of which would normally have serious consequences. Permission not to attend may be given by the whip, but a serious reason is needed. Breach of a three-line whip can lead to expulsion from the parliamentary political group in extreme circumstances and may lead to expulsion from the party. Consequently, three-line whips are generally only issued on key issues, such as votes of confidence and supply. The nature of three-line whips and the potential punishments for revolt vary dramatically among parties and legislatures.

 I've yet to figure out how to get more than a 'double underline' out of Microsoft Word, but I'm not likely to be expelling anyone, anyway.

Russians and Chairs

One of the positive things about having people over is that it sets a deadline for certain projects, like house cleaning, food purchase and, in our case, re-covering chairs.

As dining room chairs go, ours has always been an eclectic collection:  sets of two from sources such as Bill's Aunts, my Grandma & Grandpa and a second hand shop in Whitley Bay.  We decided that at least four of these chairs required new covers and, more importantly, new padding before we had our next dinner guests, Svetlana and Alexei.  I'd intended to take pictures of the meal, had even re-charged the camera batteries, but in the event didn't remember, there were so many other things to think about.  I'm not sure it's polite to take photos of one's guests anyhow, but I could at least have done the table.  Maybe next time I'll have the camera out when we are getting ready at least.

The dinner went well, I think.  We started with a selection of crackers, Boursin cheese and smoked salmon.  Then Bill produced his bœuf Bourguignon, roasted bell peppers and parsnips, 'smashed' potatoes and steamed broccoli.  For dessert we trotted out the last pumpkin pie from Thanksgiving (served cold) and a spare Christmas pudding (served hot) with whipped cream.  Alexei brought a bottle of lovely light fruity red wine.  We ate until we were completely stuffed and then sat in the living room and chatted.  Since they were with us for about five hours, I was about to quit worrying about having stayed too long at their house.  We just have loads to talk about!

Bill took photos of his chair project, as one of Grandma & Grandpa's dining chairs was in bits and had to be mended.  Apparently the chair is put together with pegs and glue.  One of the legs had split where the peg was inserted.  Other bits had simply come unglued.  About 20 years ago, I had put some upholstery material on top of the existing fabric and padding.  I'd completely forgotten the chairs' former covering, a lovely old floral pattern on a black background.  Seeing that again was almost like stepping back into their house.  

In the spirit of using what we already had on hand instead of running out and spending money, Bill used the foam rubber from an old mattress cover that we didn't need and some £1 a metre fabric I bought several years ago for another household project to make the new cushioning.  I probably would have skipped the white fabric cover, but we decided that I would have the job of adding the outside fabric and he decided to use the white to anchor the foam rubber.  Bill was very pleased with the outcome of his furniture refinishing.  You can see the variety of chairs that we have in this photo and since most of the chairs have sentimental value, they are likely to remain.  

I never think of mahogany stain as being as red as it is (in spite of that being the name of my hair colour) and was surprised at how different the old and the repaired chairs looked.  I've come to accept that I have to let go of the tatty old appearance that looks familiar and let Bill do the refinishing in order to make the chairs more useful.  It's no good having broken bits in the loft, is it?

The second hand chairs revealed some interesting pieces of wood when Bill deconstructed them.  I began to wonder just how old they are given that the seats were made from something like the side of an old wardrobe, the padding some indeterminate composite stuffing that looked like it was strings and cotton wool, and the covering fabric was canvas, painted and shellacked, not leather as I'd assumed.

As we have a new curtain for the front hallway, to match the door curtains, and the former curtain was a pale green very close to the colour of the dining room carpet, one of the few remaining original carpets from when I bought the house. 

We discovered that one cannot get staples for my old American staple gun, so Bill ended up buying a new one.  Staple guns are wonderful inventions but I still had to use a few unaccustomed muscles in my arms and shoulders to wrestle and hold the fabric into place.  Still, the chairs looked pretty good when they were finished and everyone sat very comfortably during dinner.








Have you been doing any projects around your house lately?

Masks

I'm not Catholic and I don't live in New Orleans, so Mardi Gras has always remained a mystery to me.  That said, I once worked with a very bubbly Catholic woman who made giving up something for Lent sound so fun that I sacrificed meat one year just to keep her company.  I told you about her before.    But I'm not writing so much about Lent just now as about masks.   

In her book, Encyclopedia of the Exquisite, the author talks about Venice under the heading 'Masquarades'.  She says that in the 1700s it was the habit of the nobles of that city to go out disguised for about half the year - between early October through Lent.  

 

The costume of the upper classes included a black capelet, black tricorn hat and a white half mask.  Some women chose a moretta, a black oval mask which they kept in place by clinching a button on the mask between their teeth; this mask and their silence was thought to be even more disturbing.  Children were frightened of these creatures.  The nobility found their anonymity to be quite freeing.  

However, according to two other sources, the wearing of masks dates back to the 1200's.  

 

Another tells that Carnival (another term for  the celebrations preceding Lent)   

is likely an English corruption of carne vale (Late Latin, literally "farewell to meat"), the name Venetians gave to pre-Lenten revelry as early as 1092.

Apparently, over the years things got ever more decadent. Venice with it's incredible wealth and unique appearance attracted travelers from all over the world.  Gambling and sex could be found everywhere; after all, everyone was anonymous.  [Never mind anonymous sex, how did one collect one's gambling debts?]  Women's clothing became more revealing.  Even nuns and monks are said to have joined in.  Rome turned a blind eye so long as the money kept coming in.  

In the late 1700s, thanks to Napoleon, Venice found itself under the thumb of Austria, their neighbours to the East.  Under the Austrians the whole mask-wearing and anonymous partying  was discouraged.  

Things apparently calmed down a bit, particularly as Venice no longer had a monopoly on trade from the east.  By then, however, masked balls had become popular in the rest of Europe and even amongst the colonials of the US.

Mask wearing continued in Venice until the 1930's when Mussolini banned the practice altogether.  In 1951, a wealthy art collector held a masked ball and in 1979 Venice revived it's Carnival.

So, being neither Catholic nor in a place that celebrates Mardi Gras (the most exciting thing they do here is make pancakes), why did I decide to write about masks and all?  So I could show you these photos I took in Venice, of course!

Just Taupes

Taupe is my chosen colour for March, largely because I was running out of neutrals and I wanted to try for 12 different ones.  It is a weird colour, being half way between brown and grey.  Seems a suitable choice for a month that is neither winter nor quite spring, at least not here in Northern England.  March is always a bit iffy.

Taupe is also a wonderful colour if you happen to have cool colouring, which I do, or at least I do when I'm blond.  Auburn hair complicates it all but never mind.  Taupe still works.

But what works with taupe?  I was lucky enough to find this advice, meant for interior decorating, which I think is quite sound as clothing choices go:

Taupe Loves

- Pure white paint
- Dark stained wood
- Purple under toned natural linens
- Stones that contain grey or blue
- Metals such as silver, chrome and stainless steel
- The companionship of grey or brown
- Dramatic accents of green, purple or red
- Clear glass 

Taupe Hates
- Anything that contains yellow, such as buttery paint
- Golden woods, such as oak
- Yellow-hued linens
- Tan leathers
- Stones that contain beige
- Accessories that hint at yellow, such as dark cream porcelain

I've looked everywhere for similar advice for other colours, but haven't cracked that yet.  Do you know where this information might be found?

March in Retrospect

March has always been a busy month for us.  By this time of year I've usually been pretty much fed up with winter and with no guarantee of a real summer, in our richer days, we zoomed off to warmer localities.  Lately we've tended to wait until summer, particularly for our 'big' (Australia or US) holidays.  March is also when Bill's birthday comes around and as it turns out, two years ago now, when his mother passed away.  It also seems that in the first March of this blog  I finally found my writing stride, so I can point you to some posts for

2008:

• I shared my pantry list, an integral part of our frugal lifestyle and what allowed us to average about £107 per month for food in 2010.
• Bill gathered his family in Kettlewell to celebrate the date of his 60th birthday, but a larger party was planned for the summer.
• I discovered the fun of photography and captured the first of many images that, even if they don't do anything for me, speak to me.

2009:

• I was still enthusing about our trip to Prague, showing you the historical fashion exhibit and art nouveau / art deco furniture that absolutely bowled me over.
• I accompanied Bill on a business trip to Hull.  Not England's vacation paradise, but with its very own history.
• I showed you what excites a British male.
• I reported Ella's passing and found comfort in appreciating the nice surroundings she enjoyed in her latter years.  Her Quaker funeral was an interesting experience, too.
• Bill's family being gathered for the funeral, they were also there for his birthday and we all went to Craster and Alnwick, both in Northumberland for the day.  (By the way the daughter of the Duke of Northumberland got married recently, just in case you missed it.)
• After Ella's funeral service, I decided I wanted to know more about the Quakers.
• I shared from a book I have on 'How to Visit a Museum'.  (Jg might enjoy this one, given his recent post about museums.)

2010:

• I discovered the first Duchess of Marlborough at my local library.  Others will tell you about the second, another American, named Gladys.  I like my Consuelo better, in part because I discovered her myself, but also because - unlike Gladys - she managed to move on and make a happier life for herself.
• Helen and Martin moved into their new house, whilst Bill and I slid around in the mud.
• Vivien and I had an excellent day out in Newcastle.
• We drove up to see Sarah in Edinburgh and I managed to show you most of what I knew about the place at the time, things like Jenners, Armstrongs and Deacon's House.  Sarah took us to see the Royal Yacht Britannia, where I spent a good part of April...but of course that's next month.