A very grey day today, and the wind is a bit wild.  We are having our annual winter bonfire today to get rid of all the stuff that we can’t recycle in some way or other.  I suspect that we won’t be very popular with the neighbours but all I can say is that the ash is also good for the soil and sorry!

The Antique Fair at Wicksteed Park, Kettering was quite a nice, buzzy little fair and even though it is only a one dayer we might well contemplate standing it some time this year.  We have lots of gaps in our diary that need filling.

We really miss the Fair that we used to stand in Derby which was convenient but sadly its change of venue seemed to be its death knell and although it still exists it is a mere shadow of its former self.  Only about 50 stalls now and only stands 3 times a year.  Not for us I am afraid!

I sit here facing the French Windows and every time I look up I can see the smoke swirling in the wind and Geoff and my Other Half vanishing into it but it doesn’t stop them gossiping.  Already this morning they have discussed the problems of Football, the traffic system, Carnival Glass (my Other Half of course) and I expect now they are putting the rest of the world to rights.

I bought well yesterday, which always makes me cheery.  A Victorian book of Yorkshire Churches with good engravings for next time we stand Harrogate.  Some old, probably Victorian as well, French playing cards and something that I have wanted for ever a ‘Crest and Monogram Album’ print in High Holborn, London around 1880 by William Lincoln and nearly complete.

The Victorians were very taken with collecting stamps but before that they already collected letter and envelope crests and monograms and almost every strata of society from Schools and Orphanages to Royalty used their own embossed crests etc on all paper communications.

Paper in all forms was their equivalent of our social media networks today, and even before the postal service got underway embossed letters were delivered by servants, and calling cards left on silver salvers.

I expect that the peasants, if they could write tied scruffy scraps of paper to stones and delivered them that way!

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