Wishing the festive season still looked like this. No neon, no tack, just pretty.

Coming early to us flower people I sit amid rosehips, oranges, piles of ribbon, vintage baubles, cat shaped stockings, Bing Crosby and general festive flim flam.

And although I won’t yet be lighting my yuletide candle the wafts of herbs, oranges and cinnamon, as I weave away, are definitely doing the trick.

With the stall and all I won’t get the chance, but read up on the Christmas markets in London here, groovy gorgeous old fashioned fare – sounds cool.

A wreath for a wednesday…

xxx

Going to go image heavy on you this week – sorry, I seem to be rocking a kind of blue theme at the moment – prepping our pines amid pitter patters of panic.

Still, sweet Ben has updated my website with where I’ll be this weekend and Nellie noo, you are right, I may well need a brolly. xxx

Pensees for the weekend…what to wear mid-winter at the stall?

Can we get away with lace, wellies and frou frou’s in December?

And how to thank the dear darling foliage boys at the market?

Luggage labels, ribbons, wreaths and painting french furniture are playing a starring role this weekend a week before we tentatively open the pop up flower shop.

It is of course pouring with rain in London rendering painting and wreath wiring atop the tug…impossible. I weep, this and the hungry fox is giving a florist a fever.

There’s only one thing for it, get to drying my rosephips and lavender, a bit of blog inspiration, charmingly cool mentions and Captain cooking a St John classic.

Ooh and a song for a saturday, a flower girl getting an education in Ronnie lane.

xxx

Polaroids by Celeste

Enter the fray and get photographed gorgeously when a man with a vintage camara captures cool moments like this. Got to type about it…it was a brilliant wedding, Tiffany blues and old fashioned hortenses for a late summer party.

xxx

With a pop up shop to pull off, moving our cats to a new abode and a fetes du marriage months away things are suddenly stepping up a gear. Squeak.

Where to move my tutu? What colour to paint behind a victorian bath, will the invasion of books scupper the gypsy style? Can I pinch some of Damiens wallpaper and just how many logs will we need for winter?

To soothe my nerves planning a trip to Paris is on the cards with Captain and a pootle about before a mad dash to platform 13 and Normandy…peace.

And although I’ve never really been much of a city girl I have to confess to a yen for a year or so living amongst the rooftops, so yes I could rock this look.

As for ships and portholes, oh dear there are more to come…

This time last year we were in Paris and found this cool calender in Colette- a shop with way too many trainers and loud music for me – but it had already sold out. Darn, so pretty pleased to have found you again.

Rainy days this weekend spells boats a dripping, a lunch at the eagle and a fast pattering of heartbeats as we open In two weeks…more on that soon.

Happy Sundays x

Girlcrush alert. …

I know I know it’s pewkishly unoriginal to like Marilyn Monroe but I love this pic and letter.

Her scribblings were akin to cat scratches so she bashed at her Smith Corona murder she wrote style – uber glam.

What’s with the low rent carnation though?

Watch, swoon, learn.

Cecil Beaton, flowers and film stars.

LOVE. xxx

This morning I got a Christmas list from my niece pointing me in the direction of lavish items such as winter coats, MP3 players, make up and perfume.

Politely emailed, fashion items featured heavily, as did dvd players, castles, Sylvanian families, new pets, whole countries, the odd book and a pink blanket.

“Dear Molly you are 7 years old, what’s wrong with a tangerine and fuzzy felt?”

Still it got me daring to think about what I could scribble down on mine.

I promise not to do a Veruca Salt if I only get a card. And if some of these lovely things don’t make their way under our tree, I’ll try and get over it.

I’d even be happy if you were to get your pritt stick out and make me something clever we can drink wine from, now that would be cool.

Some cool bed linen and a stylee coffee table book are pretty up there too. Even a trip to Paris – maybe dinner at La Cigale?

So in no particular order (although I rather love the alphabet bags) …

x

Danger on the boats…

When it comes to protecting our cats from a well fed fox smacking his chops alongside and atop our boat, gun toting mothering instincts are kicking in.

I don’t mind you having teaparties on the terrace as long as I can’t see.

Demolishing my herbs and chewing flower buckets is boring of you.

But beating up the tow path cats, Arnold and Captain, was one foxtrot (sorry) too far. So let it be known, dear dear Mr Fox…you may end up getting stuffed.

The transformation from canalside killer to a rigid, russet-coloured chap doing crochet in tweeds is suddenly looking attractive. You like?

We’ve got the boots, the petticoats and with a flick of the holster and quick draw, we’re ready for a serious slice of Betty action. Be warned.

xxx

On the avenue in blustery winds wearing mitts for the first time.

Even the benches were rocking an autumn look. Like these shoes?

A bit of Gigi striking an old school Beaton pose, earl grey tea a plenty, boutique hotels and despite Peters post, thoughts of seeds for a potting shed x