Category: humour

Merry Mad-mas..

 

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(Knit your own golden retriever)

I was reminded of this post today (along with the feeling that the madness seems to strike earlier each yea)…..it sums up such a interesting feeling that I believe it deserves another viewing, along with the proviso that whilst the spirit is there, the links probably aren’t…

 

When looking for presents, I start every Christmas with a simple shopping list of good intentions..

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..But somewhere along the line something happens.

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I can’t decide whether it’s because I’ve been beaten down and seduced into embracing the madness of the season..or it’s a bizarre reaction to the obscene commercialism that’s always lurking round the corner..
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But it always reaches a point when suddenly giving a gift of earwax seems the most natural thing in the world..

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(Plush Roadkill)

And why shouldn’t a stuffed toy include the inner bits as well?

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Mouse taxidermy? It could be the new baking…

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As The final finishing touch, Firebox – the source of all this wonder (and recommended to me by the wonderfully talented Beth, through her Blog The linen Cat Blog ) add their own distinct wrapping service.  Pure genius.

 

Now if I could have an unlimited supply of ‘crap wrap’ stickers, I think I would be happy for life…grunge wrapping is the new black…

 

Laters, Kate x

Oh the joys of packing…

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This an old post, but so apt for today when once again I’m knee deep in suitcases: The children may have changed, but the problems haven’t!

 

When the kids were babies I soon realised that to avoid the crying of souls (mine) I needed to be excruciatingly anal about packing, particularly as it’s not and never will be an art form that comes naturally to my psyche. The truth be told:

1. I hate it.

2. Even the impending thought of it gives me brain-swell.

3. I am a self-proclaimed light-packer. Until I pack.

4. I could just take cut off shorts, a white t-shirt and flip-flops..but why suffer clothes envy if you can avoid it?

5. How DO you take the minimum clothes for the maximum occasions?

6. I’m continually haunted by the idea it’s all wrong anyway.

7. There’s a profound anguish that the weather is undoubtably going to go through an unprecedented solar flux and be the opposite of what I’m reasonably expecting. Even though it never happens.

8. Will it really be hot/cold at the equator/in the mountains because it’s not hot/cold here (delete as appropriate).

9. How can I pack the stuff I’m wearing now?

10. What do people mean when they ‘throw a few things in’?

11. How do I know I won’t be invited to tea with the Queen or Beyonce or Karl Lagerfeld?

12. Why do I always have the most cases? I packed light..

13. And why do they never shut?

Burnt too many times, I learnt to make furtive lists on the computer in the hope that nothing vital in my then sleep-deprived-likely-to-find-hairbrush-in-fridge-state like nappies, nappy sacks, first aid kit, tranquillisers..would be disastrously and time/happiness sappingnly forgotten and there could be hope yet for my marriage.

Those days are (almost) gone, but the discipline has proved invaluable and certain rules still stand:

1. Start packing 5 days in advance and wear tea towels if necessary.

2. For a week or more pack 5 sets of underwear plus 3 of each for the rest (t-shirts, shorts etc)

3. Summer holiday for me…just dresses, the ultimate capsule wardrobe…beach dresses..other dresses..end of.

 

Now I just have to learn to take my own advice…

Laters, Kate xxx

The alternative Christmas x

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Good intentions be damned, the only thing I’ve learnt since writing this post is that they never last and the only way to go is big, bad and ballistic..

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With that in mind I will be fully embracing the anti-commercialism at Pencil Agency’s Rubbish Shop.…and buying all my presents there.

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Who could resist Beyonce as an angel?

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A set of fine minatures?

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Or four handmade napkins?

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A multi-purpose iphone case for that person who always has little accidents?

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Or a naivly crafted nativity scene?

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(All pictures The Rubbish Shop)

Just pure elfing genius.

Laters, Kate x

Why?

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It’s dark and raining heavily today as though even the Gods are crying.

And Donald Trump will be the next leader of the free world and President of America.

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How? Why?

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You’ve really chosen a fascist over…a woman?

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The man who epitomises ‘if all you have is a hammer, everything looks like a nail..’?

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(All cartoons from Google)

For all the grieving people in the States – we empathise: This is what it feels like not to recognise your country any more.

Who ever thought Isis could win via democracy?

Laters, Kate x

In celebration..

Of GB olympic success (whooo hoooo!), particularly in the cycling which finished last night (sob), I give you Jack Whitehall who manages to sum up both the brilliance of the athletes and illustrate  everything we Brits hold dear in the most stupid way which is just so effing clever.

You want more?? How about Jack meets the boxing team..

And possibly my favourite…Jack, the rowing team and Sir Steve Redgrave.  Enjoy!

Laters, Kate x

The Essex Taj Mahal x

 

Grayson Perry

Grayson Perry

When was the last time you were touched by someone so brilliant they made your head start sub-dividing?

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Stand back and welcome previous Turner Prize winner and national gem, Grayson Perry and his new project, a House for Essex: a collaboration with Charles Holland and the architecture studio FAT.  Built in Wrabness this huge marmite piece of art is a monumental shrine to a completely fictional character, a lady called Julie May Cope and is dedicated to the ‘Single mums of Dagenham, hairdressers in Colchester and the landscape and history of Essex’. The house holds testament to Perry’s visions of Julie’s life, through her birth in Canvey Island in 1953 to her two marriages, her children, her work all the way to her sudden death at the hands of a pizza delivery moped on Colchester High Street at the premature age of 61.

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On the outside there’s a shining copper roof and 1924 glazed terracotta sigils of St jules.

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Inside, the main room is in the style of a chapel to pay homage to the life of an ordinary woman.

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There are biographical tapestries and pictures over the ceilings with snap shots of her history.

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In pride of place and hanging as a chandelier is the very moped that killed her.

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Upstairs, the two bedrooms are dedicated to her two marriages..the second of which was a story of true, tender love which permeates through the whole building and draws it together.

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Kitsch, ebullient and eccentric it may be, but the joy of Perry is that in his work, as in his life, he describes the truth as he sees it.  Underneath the undeniable humour, there’s a deeper, thicker message running through.   This is a celebration of a modesty of aspiration and acquisitions that uses high art to pay homage to the notion of hard work and normality.  It’s one mans couture shrine to the silver linings and special moments that bless every single life, no matter how hard or down trodden.  Which ties up nicely with why it was commissioned in the first place: It’s part of philosopher and critic Alain de bottom’s (great name hashtag-childish-sense-of-humour) Living Architecture programme to allow members of the public – that’s you and me – to stay in buildings by world class contemporary designers. Click here for more details for your own personal taste of Julie’s life.

Imagine…a weekend away…here??

Laters, Kate x