Sigh, Not for all the tea in china and all the corn in carolina would I miss Mabel and a monday morn in Covent Garden.

The stillness of London as it whizzes by, the promise of a good italian coffee and a toastie chez Toni.

Knowing notes in my back pocket, and the market lothario swooning a foxy “Bonjour Mademoiselle.”

Today – a heady mix of heavenly hydrangeas, poppy heads and sweetpeas…a mountain of mustard flowers and italian sunflowers for a summer feast.

And with a tea and a prowl the invite of the market summer party, Boys £10…girls, £5 is always anticipated but never attended.

“Come on gal get your dancing shoes on…”

Don’t they know I only sashy to Stevie, foxtrot to Frank and boogy to Basie?

This week, Cole Porter and Claridges, Pansies and Paris and an escape to lavender land.
xxx

This weekend brought us a weekend of hanging out on the canal watching happy boaters go by listening to jazz.

We salute:

Pink champagne.
Lovely friends Nat and Zac.
Framed butterflies.
Dizzy saturday nights.
Writing comedy.
Bike Rides.
O and his razorclams, shrimps and swordfish.
Old school Hall and Oats

Walking in high heels (I can’t).
Talk of 50’s frocks (I love).
Flower friends (you’re lovely).
Thinning fennel in the veggie garden.
Arnold climbing trees.
An interesting flower meeting.
The arrival of ribbons.
Les do’s and don’ts of weddings.
And…On Guard a sweet poodle loving tale by The Waughster.

xxx

Vavavooms in June – a month that rocks and rolls when it comes to flowers in bloom.

I’m loathed to choose between Hydrangeas, Delphs, Sweet peas and Garden roses as they come in to their own.

But my oh my, old school Sweet William is mos- def up there as one of my all time favourites.

Happy memories of my Yorkshire Grandma arranging them in glass jugs come whizzing back.

This week we’re in need of new teatowels on the boat, been searching for floral work frocks and finding williamesque pals ahoy.

Of the actuel William, Dorian Grey adored, a NY pal has an really aptly sweet shop named after them and I loudly bang on about their edwardian charms.

Last year we did a wedding with avenues of buckets bursting forth – a cheap chic and riotous alternative to the normal pomp.

Today, working outside we’re counting wooden crates for flowers, wondering where to find low buckets and love love loving these girls.

Back now I go to sourcing beatonesque wrapping paper, hot pink brocades and a reasonable ribbon supplier… do they exist?

Today I’m in love with higgledy piggeldy hydrangeas, this, and that and these . xxx

Whilst looking for inspiration for a turquoise moodboard I found this heartbreakingly sweet picture.

Check out Frannies fairytale adventures and get carried away with an afternoon of cool polaroids.

Pah who said we’ve got blooms to groom?

Tuesday brings boxes of lovely things, Arnold’s night time capturings, planting petunias, pining Paris and wait for it… planning an outing on my pashley (yes O), in search of peacock feathers for a posie.

is for crates, clematis, coveting, cranberries, crooning, cholet, cymbidium, crazy horses, creme de menthe, crocus, cats, cyclamen, Coco Chanel, cornflowers, Christian Tortu, caramel, chrysanths, creole, cornwall, camelia, capturing hearts, carnations, crinoline, clover, cavendish square, cornfields, cognac and cooing in your direction.

Aaah for the love of Judy, it’s forty years since her death but we still can’t get enough of the sligh slapping sho’ tunes she belted out, her trit trotts down yellow brick roads and her lovely leotard wearing legacies.

She can sing, she can dance but did you have her pegged as a Constance Spry wannabe? Back in 1939 she opened Judy Garland Flowers (aherm Garlands Garlands Garlands?).

Whilst we all know us florists can sing for our supper do you think Dorothy ever strimmed thorny stems with Toto at her sequined feet, got pollen stains on her pinny or romped home with flower shop fists?

Judy walked away from her flower shop to greater things with a love of lilac, white roses and a showy rosa in her name.

With no petals to pluck this monday I’m feeling all Hollywood Helibores, dreaming of Audrey and pink petal walls, mulling over Marilyn and wondering if Judes could teach me a tune or two, (whilst doing a long and low ofcourse) xxx

Here we are recovering from a week of fashion, flowers for a cool campaign, and seeing old friends and new.

Working on trelisses in teadresses and watching O wrestle with Oysters.

Loving 7am starts in the veg patch with Arnold peering on.

Making garden canopies from liberty prints.

Photo’s and tales to come but for now I’m going to concentrate on being a Sunday Girl.

Hope you’ve had a lovely weekend xxx

Feeling pretty in pink this week we’re sadly watching the best of the early summer peonies fade out of season.

But saying hi to carousel horses, farrow and ball greys and pinks, hot pink story boards and jugs of peonies frozen in time on the boat.

Beautiful but please don’t touch they’ll shatter. Sigh, pompoms of peonies will always be my loves. From their spring start as poet Mary Oliver waxes, ‘the green fists of the peonies are getting ready to break my heart to their honeyed heaviness, and their lush trembling’ as they part.

Still like fickle florists do we can comfort ourselves instead with fashion frolics courtesy of pals Stella and Luella and a summer full of sweetpeas.

Today on the boat we’re feeling blue, lousy rain and thoughts of you…somewhere sunny?

Stripping roses and sorting through ribbons and pouring through my lovely vintage posties found a wonderful frock that matches a clients gorgeous rock ‘n roll door.

I wonder if the two ever met…did she once girlishly swirl in town? Did her matinee idol once lie within…did that flower suffer being spray painted pink? xxx