I am writing this whilst listening to my Other Half giving me chapter and verse on the load of Glass that he bought yesterday.

He had a lovely day, talking Carnival Glass with an old friend who wanted to clear some out to make room for some more. In fact I think that some of the bits that he bought are ones that he sold to her years ago.

And for all serious collectors, there is always another more covetable piece around the corner to displace the now less exalted pieces and there comes a time when even they have to move some of it on.  Or just become buried under the sheer quantity, hence his wheeling and dealing trip yesterday.

And I stayed at home and pottered around, they didn’t need my input on Carnival Glass they both know more about it than I ever will.

Time to go now, on a bit of a schedule today.

Boots to the mender, stuff to appraise, and hopefully lunch with Kate!



‘Hush my mouth’ my last post was showing off about my Ebay prowess.  And now it has come back to bite me on the bum!

I sold and carefully packed 5 vintage/antique punch cups.  Each individually packed in Bubble wrap, then packed in a bubble lined box, packed with bubble between each one so there were no gaps, sealed and the whole wrapped with paper and tape marked ‘Fragile’ and paid extra postage to be delivered into the hands of the recipient………………………………..

And one cup was smashed on arrival!

Each of these Cups was different, and although I do have many more,  I do not have another the same to replace it with.  So the customer and I have discussed it and she has accepted a refund.

But how annoying is that.  Very!

And yes, part of the extra postage was Insurance.  Have you ever tried to claim?  It is rather like catching quick silver and takes forever.  So for the relatively small amount I will take the pain and be thankful that it wasn’t all of them that got broken.

And with my fingers crossed I have some more to put up for sale and they will be packed extra, extra carefully, believe me!

I am feeling quite proud of myself at the moment.

I have recently been putting a few bits and pieces on Ebay.  Very time consuming and something that I haven’t done for a long time but hey!  I have sold several pieces.

Some glass and some postcards, little bits and easy to post, simple and straight forward.  Just the way I like it.

I have more, so when I have a couple of hours to spare I shall be repeating the process and long may it continue to be stress free.

I stopped selling on line because even if you are very savvy , things can get too complicated but hopefully as long as I stick to the ‘cheap and cheerful’ there won’t be so many ‘sharks’ out there with an angle to try ripping me off.

As far as I can see everyone who sells on line has at least one horror story to tell and if it is not the ‘opportunists’ trying it on,  it is the postal/delivery services causing problems.

9 times out of 10, they are great and reliable and the 10th time it can be a nightmare and generally once it all goes horribly wrong they don’t really want to know.

Even reading all their small print, paying for insurance and tracking really doesn’t help when it all goes wrong.  We have in the past tracked parcels across Continents and watched them end up in the wrong place and then vanish!

We used to watch a programme called ‘Hill Street Blues’ a police thing, and it always had a daily briefing which finished with “BE CAREFUL OUT THERE”.

Today’s handy hint!





I am feeling at little grouchy at the moment.  I have been feeling proper poorly ever since we came back from Builth Wells.  A change of tablets, a bad back and something I ate seem to have conspired to lay me low, and I even took to my bed for a day!

I usually don’t like to crumble and give in but this time I was grateful to abandon all and retire clutching my hot water bottle and a book.

My Other Half , as he does in a crisis, cooked his signature ‘Cheese and Potato’ pie, although I really didn’t do justice to it but the resident Blackbird and his family thought the remains were delicious, so someone appreciated his efforts.

And today I am up, not quite to my usual fighting speed but working on it.

Earlier this week I had planned in my head that I might stand the local carboot sale this morning!

Maybe next week and then the weather might be warmer as well.

Enough of my moaning, although it could have been worse it could have been about politics and I think we are all fed up with that at the moment.

My Dad used to say ‘Enough is as good as a feast’,  very true, on all fronts.




I am sitting here in my nightie and dressing gown, putting off the evil moment when I must go and get washed and dressed.

Once  that happens I have to join in the real world and do domestic things and computer things and make a shopping list of all the things that we forgot when we did shopping yesterday.

When really I am quite happy sitting here, visiting the real world through the computer screen and filling the keyboard with toast crumbs.

From here I can nurse my creaky back, and exercise my fingers.

When I was 14 at school they taught us all how to touch type.  The offered career choices were, hairdresser, typist or factory, unless of course you aspired to staying on and doing exams and going to Uni.

Staying on wasn’t an option, and I tried all of the other suggestions and failed dismally but the good thing about the 1950/60’s was that there were plenty of jobs about and even with a touch typing speed of minus there were jobs to be had, and I had a little go at everything and decided that the only real option left was to marry a millionaire.

A short-lived plan, Millionaires were few and far between where I came from and then I met and married my Other Half and have worked ever since.

Some politician or other has suggested that burden-some Pensioners could work in the fields, harvesting fruit and veg!  I am not sure which stone he crawled out from under but what with my bad back I would like to be excused.  However,  my touch typing speed is much better now perhaps I could type invoices until the Dementia kicks in.

Just a thought!

Builth Wells was every bit as enjoyable as I hoped, although a little chilly at times but I packed my hot water bottle so I didn’t really care, and we came home with a couple of empty boxes.  That’s the way to do it , and we have several weeks before our next Fair, unless of course we slot one in, you never know.

But before we can unload what we didn’t sell we need to sort things out a bit.  And at the moment there are several ‘no-go’ areas in the house.

The front room for instance is full of bound volumes of Punch Books, I must have at least 80.  Over the last few Fairs I have had a central display of Maps, Sea Charts and Atlas’s, old and new and sold them well and I feel it is time for a change and I would love to take the Punch Books and pile them high, they would be quite spectacular and these days you have to catch people’s imagination.  No good putting them out in serried ranks of spines.

I want to take as many as I can carry (and there is the rub, they weigh a ton) and lay them out open so people can come and browse, and hopefully buy.

So the Carnival Glass and Punch Books are going to be vieing  (another word the spell-checker and I can’t agree on) for car space.  Even a large vehicle like ours can only carry so much weight before it is a nightmare to drive.

We once, in our younger days, cleared a big old house of several generations worth of books and comics and wonderful they were too.  But to get them all in we loaded the car until it was almost resting on the top of the wheels and that made for a very hairy ride home.

We were young and foolish in those days, about 5 years ago, we are older and wiser now maybe!


And if I can sell a few large books we can probably, at least get our feet into the front room and I could fill that space in the blink of an eye with something else.

“Job’s a good’un”, as the kids would say!

Any minute now we are setting off for Builth Wells, or within the next hour or so at least.

We have a fluid plan, as always.  We have all day to suit ourselves and we don’t actually have to be at the Royal Welsh Showground until tomorrow morning, so we allow ourselves a little treat.   A long gentle drive into the middle of Wales and an extra night at our lovely B+B and even maybe an evening at the Village Pub to round off the day.

Sounds good doesn’t it.  And also the beauty of a day all to ourselves is that we can shuck off all responsibilities, forget domesticity just be us, together in the now.

If you think about modern life that doesn’t happen often.  Usually there is an agenda, your own or someone else’s.  And life dictated by the clock, well just for today ‘clock – smock’, we are doing our own thing and back to real life tomorrow.

All though I am not sure that Antique Fairs count as real life, they can be a bit surreal like escaped time machines!


We got up early and went to ‘Runway Monday’ yesterday,  less stalls than usual due probably to the threatening weather and the chill wind.

There were some lovely things, beautifully worn old leather armchairs and a glass fronted cupboard, full of tiny drawers and a long, long church pew, all very covetable but not practical for us.

A book Dealer friend got around the stalls before us and snaffled some lovely Victorian picture books for a crackingly good price.  I should have got up earlier, he showed them to me just to make me jealous.  But I didn’t really begrudge him them, any one who got up at 5am to stand all morning in the cold deserves to find treasure.

And sadly as yet my creaking back is not up to heavy Victorian books, or even a paperback book to be truthful.  I think that my Other Half is going to have to do all the heavy lifting at Builth Wells this coming weekend.

Yesterday, walking around for a couple of hours was kind of ‘kill or cure’ and my back isn’t worse today so I am hoping that with the help of a few pain killers it will behave over the weekend.

I love Builth Wells Antique Fair at this time of year.  The Royal Welsh Showground is in a pretty Valley surrounded by hills and the first thing you hear every morning is the lambs calling and the birds singing.

Looking forward to it.

Where to start?

It has been a chaotic few days, what with one thing and another.  And so now that I am forced to sit as I seem to have clicked my back out, I thought that I would just have a little catch up.

Uncle Robbers, friend Sue, staying with him over Easter had a massive nose bleed and has spent half the week in one of the local Hospitals and we have all rallied around to dog-sit the 3 seven month old Great Dane puppies, who for obvious reasons can’t be left for too long on their own, otherwise they eat the house and generally get into more trouble than a cart load of monkeys.

And we are still on high alert, as she has to go back on Friday and they may have to cauterise it and I shall be sitting the Dogs for as long as it takes and Uncle Robber is working his shifts and running hither and yon,  trying to cope with it all.

Actually working with small children all my life seems to have stood me in good stead.  It turns out that baby Great Danes are very similar, just much bigger and they are very sweet and haven’t got a nasty bone in them.  And providing they don’t converge on mass and knock me over I can cope.

We had a good busy Fair at Peterborough although only a week ago it seems like forever  and we are well into the throes of getting ready for our next big Fair,  Builth Wells, the weekend after next.

And on top of all that Theresa May has called an election and I really can’t fit serious politics in at the moment although my Other Half and I have already started with quite a few heated debates.  I fear that it is only going to get worse before it gets better.

You know when you watch an old married couple on the television ” We have been married for 50 years and never  had a disagreement with each other”,  that isn’t us!


I just don’t know where the days go, before I have really got going they are all used up.  Three or four times I have started a blog, saved it to finish later and never got back to it.

Basically we have been getting ready for Peterborough and Builth Wells and in between as always real life creeps in.

Last Wednesday I had a glorious day in London with Kate.

We wandered along the Thames in the sunshine in Pimlico.  Had a nice pub lunch spent all afternoon at the Tate and saw the Hockney exhibition.  I am saving up for one or two of my favourites!

And after afternoon tea, we went to Tottenham Court Road on the way back to the car and drifted around Daunts Book Shop, if I ever run away, you will find me there, a delight of a shop.

Then we just window shopped for an hour or so, such lovely things and shops,  stopped for a little snack at Brent Cross on the way back to the car and were home for 10pm.

Mind you my feet didn’t stop moaning all of the next day, not used to pounding the pavements. And I didn’t know whether to be insulted or grateful when a young woman on the underground got up and offered me her seat.  (My feet were very grateful).

And in between we have sorted, washed, polished, labelled and packed a very strange assortment of things.

Along with our usual Carnival glass and books, we have pots and Victorian glass and modern glass etc.  And some 1870’s bayonets!

Yes,  you read that right, it is amazing what you find when you buy an old chest full of ephemera.  They were buried under all the layers of old love letters, photo’s, newspapers and magazines.

Along with and this turned out to be even more amazing, an old automatic pistol!  Turns out to be German and dated to 1914-ish and was probably brought back as a souvenir in the first world war.

I thought it was a toy but we took it to a friend who is into guns, and it turned out to be a 10 round automatic pistol, fortunately with no firing pin.  Illegal to own without a certificate to say it was deactivated properly, and it turns out firing pins are not that difficult to get hold of in spite of its age.

So whilst I was tripping the light fantastic with David Hockney in London, my Other Half was filling in myriad forms at the local police station and trying to prove that he wasn’t a  gun runner!