Ode on a Turf Fire

I love a turf fire. The smell, the red heat … and, why, if you have a glass of whiskey in your hand at the same time, the overall experience is the epitome of warmth on a long, cold winter’s night.

My mother – who likes nothing better than playing with fire – has been giving me lessons in fire-lighting.

This is one of my efforts (note superior turf to foreground):

And the appreciative audience:

They Say It's Spring...

So, the temperature here hasn’t risen above 10º this year.

So, it’s 1º in Dublin as I write this and there's a thick frost on the ground.

Spring is on its way - I have proof.

The sun is shining:

The daffodils are about to bloom:

And there are little lambs in the fields:

Spring, I tell you.

What I've learned from Exhibition Design I: Salon Hangs

I was inspired by some exhibitions I’d worked on and others I’d visited to do something crafty with some of the family photos at home.

Exhibit A - a project I worked on, graphics inspired by Victorian scrapbooks:

Exhibit B - District 6 Museum:

Word got out among my siblings that I was planning to create a typical Irish family shrine. For those not familiar with this concept, it consists of photos of the family offspring in their First Communion and/or Confirmation clothes, ranged round a piano (or a picture of the Sacred Heart, depending on the family’s interests.) No, no, I said. Not a shrine – a salon hang.

To create my salon hang (as we call it in the business) I purchased ten or so wooden frames of different sizes from Ikea. They’re all the same basic wooden design, but come in different sizes and colour. I chose mostly black, with a few white and red frames for contrast.

Using my newly-acquired Takker (as featured on Dragon’s Den – apparently; I never watched Dragon’s Den) I hung the frames above the dresser. I did make a rough plan before I started and while this was useful, I did change it a bit as I went along. My advice is to step back after you’ve added every frame so you can get a sense of how the next one will complement the whole.

Et, voilà:

My parents conceded that it didn’t look so bad, after all. My sisters wanted to know how many times they featured in the shrine (and woe betide if the other sister was in it more).

I just want to play with my Takker some more.

Róisín!

Róisín, I didn’t send you a card, but INSTEAD you are the star of my blog today.

It used to be that you were very much The Big Sister and the three-and-a-quarter-years age gap loomed very large.

Now, you’re still my big sister, but we’ve come a long way from the hair-pulling and name-calling of old. Now you’re just Róisín, who I can call anytime I need advice, who loves Friday Night Lights as much as I do, who lends me her shoes (Jimmy Choos even!), who provided me with a super-cute nephew and (via George) a whole Greek family, who speaks Rooby-Roo, who comments on my blog, who taught me everything I know about organisation and shopping, who introduced me to the Café Gourmand - and much, much more.

Who knew, when you were pouring Body Shop bodywash into my hair as I slept, that things would work out so well for us?

(This photo was taken very early in the morning which is why we both look a little sleepy.)

Happy birthday, Róisí-Ró, I love you lots. MAAAAH!

V & A Vandering

Good morning! Today we're going on a tour of the Victoria and Albert Museum.

I love the V & A - it's the original box of delights. My favourite thing is to wander and see what catches my eye. There's always ( because of the never-ending refurbishment) something new and different to find - or perhaps that should be old and different.

Last week I started off in the new Medieval and Renaissance Galleries. Lots of statuary.

Luckily, the Museum has big, dramatic spaces to fit all the saints and gods and fountainyurnyfont type things.

One gallery, representing the medieval church, was laid out - appropriately enough - like a church.

Smaller galleries explored themes in design and society. Well, I think they did - if I had a gripe it was that the you really had to look for the themes. This is a shame because I would have liked to understand the rationale behind the displays better.

In a nutshell, the Medieval and Renaissance look absolutely beautiful, but some of the spaces left me a wee bit cold. More context please! I noted that they had been designed by architects, rather than specialist exhibition designers ... it shows.

Yes, I am a nit-picker.

Moving on, the ironwork gallery hasn't been refurbished since about, oh, 1925, but I love it. Something about the randomness of the bits of railing, bench ends and other wrought-iron odds and ends hanging from the walls always appeals to me.

Another great thing about the V & A is views like this:

No idea what all of this is - some spares they had lying around? - love it anyway.

Onwards into the Sculpture Gallery where you can trace the process of making sculpture. The whole thing is well worth a look, but I only had eyes for these boys:

Through the Leighton Gallery, down some stairs and into the Jameel Gallery of Islamic art. This gallery always makes me feel cold - maybe it's the choice of paint? The star of the show is the huge carpet in the middle which is only lit for a few minutes every hour. If you're a geeky exhibition designer type, you may pay attention to the glass structure surrounding the carpet which is one of the most expensive display cases ever made. (I've told this story before, but I'll tell it again: the case is made of non-reflective glass, but people kept walking into it, so they had to put a metal barrier around it.)

From here I doubled back to the Fashion Gallery. I really like the thematic way this is laid out, with displays focusing on different centres of fashion (Paris, London, New York, Milan etc) and others mixing clothes of different periods through common purposes - evening dress, underwear, wedding dresses.

The following ensemble, from Ralph Lauren circa 1981, may shock some viewers:

This one, on the other hand, was so beguiling I pressed my nose to the glass to see better. Just look how gorgeously elegant it is - crying out to star in a 1930s murder-mystery.

Here's a rather dashing suit from Molyneux whose name, I recently learned, is pronounced Molynukes. And he was Irish, what's more.

Last, but oh so far from least, I paid my traditional respects to the V & A shop. Truly this is one of the best shops in London. They have an amazing range of jewellery inspired by the collection - but not in a ticky tacky reproduction á la Past Times kind of way. The prices are very reasonable, starting around £5 for little brooches and earrings. (I used to have a sweet pair of button earrings which cost me about £3. Sadly they came to a bad end in a drain pipe.) There are also great toys and decorating ideas for kids, wonderful cards and prints and hundreds of delightful fripperies.

Tour finished, it's time for a hot chocolate. I had mine in Brindisa, where they make the hot chocolate in the traditional Spanish way: so thick a spoon can stand upright in it. Mmm mmm.

Hints to Lady Travellers – Original Flavour

One of the most exciting things I did in London was pay a visit to the Royal Geographical Society. I wish I’d had more time to spend, because they had an exhibition of photos taken in the footsteps of Isabella Bird Bishop. But my main focus was the library where I had a date with a very special book: the original 1889 edition of Hints to Lady Travellers by Lillias Campbell Davidson.

Oh the joy. The elderly gentlemen who were the only other readers in the library must have wondered why I kept chuckling to myself. The list of contents included such topics as cushions, etnas, footwarmers, literature, luncheon baskets, return tickets, tea, wedges for doors.

Miss (Mrs?) Davidson and I have different takes on travel, but I admire her practical good sense and her pearls of wisdom, for example it is a great convenience to take one’s own bath with one in travelling.

I’ll be returning to Hints to Lady Travellers regularly, but for now I leave you with the words of the preface:

That it will fulfil the object of its compilation and prove a useful handbook and companion to her fellow-women who travel at home and abroad; and that, by its aid, the number of those who travel may be increased, is the hope of THE AUTHOR

(I’m going to start signing myself THE AUTHOR more.)

Woodstock is Cool, Officially.

I was very excited to read in the magazine section of yesterday’s Observer newspaper a page feature on Woodstock, where I lived (or stayed, if we’re speaking South African) in Cape Town.

Woodstock is described as follows: largely inhabited by a Cape Coloured community that was spared segregation under apartheid law, the ramshackle suburb of Woodstock runs from the docks to the foot of Devil’s Peak mountain, east of the city. It’s home to a new set of artists, designers and foodie haunts, though, as in most of South Africa, there’s still incongruity – donkey carts piled with scrap metal are often seen limping next to shiny 4x4s trawling for the finest artisanal bread or must-have artwork.

Yes, all true, though it leaves out the bread shop that looks like a brothel (all red with a leather sofa in the window – no sign of any actual bread), the endless stretch of rustic frames shops, the dodgy Nigerian nightclub/sports bar and the crack-dens (alleged crack-dens, Mammy, ALLEGED) and the many 5Rand Chinese shops (though I found these fascinating and visited them often on my way to or from Greatmore Studios.)

I was especially excited to see Neighbourgoods Market featured (you can read my post here) and also the Superette (the same people run the two). Superette was one of my absolute favourite places in Cape Town, conveniently located just between where I lived and where I worked. Like an eedjit, I never got round to taking any photos of it, so I’ve screen-grabbed these from the Superette website, so I can pay tribute to them (if you can't visit Superette itself, the website is still worth a look. Not if you're feeling hungry, though.)

The coffee was great, the cakes were divine, the sandwiches sublime, and their cheese on toast world-class. Loved the concrete floors, the light fixtures and the touches of yellow everywhere.

Oh, I miss you Woodstock!