St David's Day daffs

The first of March means we can now look towards the arrival of spring. 

Early daffodils are here, with their sunny disposition they stand determined, blooming and smiling in the frigid breeze.

Alex came home with ingredients for Shrove Tuesday pancakes last night, with two bunches of daffodils clasped in his hand. I've clearly trained him well.

Their trumpet-like blooms are bursting open and bringing lots of cheer with them. I put them on my new (to me) Edwardian oak plant stand, the first furniture purchase I have made for the cottage we move into next week.

This move can't come soon enough, until then, the daffs are keeping me occupied.

Kate  x

January citrus and antique markets

For my birthday I planned a trip to the ICAF antiques fair in Shepton Mallet. One of the things I was most excited about our move to the UK was all the antiques and vintage homewares that I'd be able to buy. So, I eagerly anticipated this particular birthday treat. I had visions of baskets, French dough bowls, milk glass vases, plant stands, kitchenalia and all manner of curiosities coming home with me. In other words I expected to be parted with cash, and be happy about it. After all, I'd heard good things about ICAF fairs HERE and HERE.

Although I did make a purchase- or should I say Alex made the purchase, being the one to haggle the price while I pretended not to know him and look busy on another stall... But, I didn't come away with a car load of beautiful-but-maybe-not-practical wares like I had imagined I would.

My sole purchase was some beautiful Edwardian era transfer ware.  I'm hopeless when it comes to resisting blue and white ceramics. And I have long admired the Asiatic Pheasants design first released in 1862 by Burleigh.

This is a lovely pie dish which I promptly filled with the season's best clemetines.

Accompanying the pie dish is this small platter plate, shown here with my grapefruit breakfast.

They weren't bargains per se (Alex did negotiate 7 pounds off the total) but they make me happy, and I am sure I couldn't have bought them back home in Australia at the same price.

I'll just have to keep looking for more treasures.

Kate  x

Daffs

We've got cheery spring daffodils in the house this week. These are the paler 'white' daffodil variety, and at $7 for two bunches I think they more than brighten the house up, affordably!

I wander'd lonely as a cloud

That floats on high o'er vales and hills,

When all at once I saw a crowd,

A host of golden daffodils.

William Wordsworth

I love they're happy disposition so much, and they remind me a lot of my childhood. Daffodils were the only cut flower I remember my Mum having in the house. 

Kate  x

En Saison

En saison, or the very opposite, in this case. 

It's a blustery winter Saturday here. I set out to buy an inexpensive bunch of daffodils to bring some cheer indoors. I've been patiently waiting for the daffs to start appearing in florists and green grocers this season.

Then, my usual flower man had David Austin roses. In winter! A little more expensive than a bunch of daffodils or jonquils, but Oh-so-worth-it.

The smell is divine. But that's a redundant statement when talking about David Austin roses. They tick every box. 

Simply a superior rose.

We also came home with kalettes. The kalette is the newest vegetable on the Australian market, a cross between kale and brussel sprouts. Should be interesting. 

Kate  x

Latest thrift find + enduring milk glass obsession

This little Coalport dish was a happy find for $4 at one of our local Vinnie's last week. I ummed and ahhed a little deciding if I would buy it (another thing to wrap and pack into shipping for our move to the UK), but I justified it because I am going to use it as a soap dish. I plan to stop buying liquid pump soap and instead keep this with a little bar of soap by the bathroom basin. (Alex is forever coming home from business trips with pilfered hotel toiletries- so I rarely need to buy hand soap). So that $4 is actually a bigger saving, in plastic waste too.

I happily splashed the cash (a whole $12.50 *sarcasm*) on these darling dahlias on Saturday though. That dusky pink colour had me hook, line and sinker. The combination of pale pink with the stark white of vintage milk glass is stunning I think.  I can't get enough of my milk glass vases. My collection is small right now, but I continue to grow it any chance I get. Milk glass isn't common place in the vintage/collectable/charity stores of Australia, but it should be more prolific in England. Fingers crossed.

My milk glass obsession started HERE in case you need convincing of its beauty. It is relatively cheap because it isn't to everyones taste, and I'm grateful for that. The real Fenton pieces can be a bit expensive, but the generic vintage no-name ones are quite affordable. I don't discriminate, and buy whatever I can spy and fall in love with. This one above was $17, and a Fenton hobnail one that I have was $20. I'd love to get a compote style one. I think they're lovely.

So, that's a big tick for milk glass, and a big tick for the last of the dahlias for this season. Although, I'll get round two when we're living in England. 

Kate

Styling and photographs by Moss & Vine

Summer roses and milk glass

It has been a wet start to summer, but the first of the roses still manage to look and smell divine! 

I snipped these beautiful old roses from my Dad's garden over the weekend, and I carefully nursed them in a mug of water on my lap on the drive back to the city. The lengths I go to...

Each variety has a subtly unique fragrance. The smaller milk glass vase is on my bedside table, and is a soothing sight and scent to open my eyes to in the morning. 

The large blush flower I believe is 'Albertine', an old variety raised by Barbier. Dark salmon coloured buds open out to large blush pink blooms, and occasionally a pale apricot bloom will appear. It is a rambling rose producing many flower heads. 

The small white rose in the foreground (above) is either 'Albatross' or 'Kiftsgate'. It is a prolific flowerer, smothering its branches in small, delicate, single-layered white blooms.

As usual with mother nature, photographs don't do these roses justice.

I have also brought back with me a large armful of mint, rosemary, lemon balm, sage, marjoram and thyme. And stalks of silver beet and rhubarb. Dad's place is better than a farmers market.

Kate  x

Styling and Photographs by M o s s & V i n e

Covet

If it is not a sin, it probably should be. But I covet a whole lotta things...

Mostly antique furniture,

vintage kitchenalia, 

and

a never-ending supply of ranunculus.

I am beginning to put together design and decor ideas for a home*. Which sees me trawling blogs, instagram, and etsy like it's my job. Which it kind of is these days. 

SOURCE

I would love a kitchen with open shelves, styled with silverware, flowers, milk glass, and ceramic treasures.

SOURCE, SOURCE

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An armoire would be fantastic. A beautiful piece of furniture, and so functional too.

SOURCE

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I think I will be waiting a long time for the scientific discovery that allows me to have ranunculus in my home, all of the time.

Kate  x

*Tentative plans are afoot for a home in the countryside.

In my nest this week

I bought a $5 bunch of erlicheer on Saturday, I split the bunch in two, plopped them into two matching vases and put them on each side of the bed. We're waking up intoxicated on the scent.

Could somebody please bottle it? I would buy that perfume, pronto!

I then spent the rest of the weekend internet window shopping on etsy. I'm lusting after so many things...

a hobnail milk glass vase,

a silver tray,

an antique letter press drawer,

an old garden sieve,

rustic wooden chopping boards,

vintage kitchenalia, etc etc.

I really cannot get enough of vintage kitchenalia.

Or the smell of erlicheer, it seems.

Kate  x

Styling and Photographs by M o s s & V i n e

May?

It's May already. Really? I feel as though it was only last month that I was sat cross-legged on the lounge room floor wrapping Christmas gifts in brown paper. Now autumn is in full swing. Even with the startling amount of rain we've been enduring lately, I still love and embrace this season in all its glory. I adore autumn and the filtered sun that accompanies it. I love the crisp morning air, and the promise of snow soon to settle on the mountains back home.

I drove home to the mountains for a fleeting visit last weekend, hopeful that even with the approach of winter there would still be something interesting flowering in the garden that I could cut to bring back to brighten our little city flat. 

Sadly but not unexpectedly, anything that had flowered and flourished over the summer had retreated beneath the cooling ground in anticipation of early frosts. The vegetable patch was almost bare, save for the small clump of rhubarb that seems to defy all seasonal obstacles. Over the fence in an abandoned backyard, however, there was an ancient very old apple tree heavy with an abundance of blushing apples. For me, apples are synonymous with autumn. I didn't hesitate to take advantage. I returned to Sydney with a gluttony of refreshingly imperfect fruit, and little idea of how I am supposed to eat my way through them before they start to go bad. I've been eating them fresh for breakfast all week. And I keep meaning to stew some to have with porridge. But I also wanted to turn some of the apples into something slightly delectable and otherwise banned from our diet. Something naughty.

I carefully halved and cored a handful of them before baking them in the oven to eat with butterscotch sauce. I appropriated THIS recipe for butterscotch sauce. It's not the healthiest way to enjoy apples, but I don't regret it one bit. It is definitely a sometimes only food. Until next autumn...

Kate  x

Styling and Photographs by Moss & Vine

Bowerbird

I was in a city bar recently, two glasses deep into the house-white when someone amongst our party asked the group what they thought their spirit animal is. I had immediate flashbacks to an exceptionally awkward job interview where a similar out of the blue question was asked. 

Out of the blue. It's from the blue that my answer comes. I'm a bowerbird, fussing over my nest, filling it with beautiful objects (blue, and otherwise) that I've scavenged from just about everywhere. Yes, I relate to the bowerbird completely. The "otter" in the group replied, "that seems like a very florist answer".  Is it? I think I was a bowerbird loong before I was a florist. I'm less a florist, and more a nester, a home-body, a frustrated interior designer. I only believe in beautiful things.

This past year, I overhauled the cutlery drawer by purging it of all plastic. I replaced the ugly plastic divider with a nicer wooden version and put baskets either side. All plastic handled cutlery was thrown donated in favour of silver spoons, bone-handled knives, and wooden serving utensils. It was a total gentrification of the top kitchen drawer. My inspiration for this project was Catherine at In The Fields, previously A Country Farmhouse. The images from this post of her own kitchen drawer sparked in me a burning desire to cultivate my own rustic, beautifully mis-matched top drawer.

I'm not sure how many readers out there would get similarly excited over something as mundane and utilitarian as the cutlery drawer, but a true nester, a fellow bowerbird would understand irrevocably. Catherine is my style idol. The queen of collectables. And a fellow flower enthusiast. To say that I am a big admirer is falling short of the mark. Catherine and her husband are currently undergoing a second home restoration. Their first home featured on her A Country Farmhouse blog was something dreams are made of. Impossibly impeccable.

I try to hold most other aspects of our own nest to a similarly rigorous aesthetic standard. It is not always an easy task, because the man in my our home doesn't recognise why the sheets and covers on the bed need to match, or why I need to buy another lamp, and trying to convince him of the beauty of coloured depression glass will be eternally futile. In his defence though, he thinks nothing of my buying yet another wicker basket, is in full-support of my quest for the perfect wing-back arm chair in which to read, and has readily accepted that the entire contents of our recently gentrified drawer require hand-washing and can never under any circumstances be put through the dishwasher. He's easily trained. I think i'll keep him.

Kate  x

Styling and Photographs by Moss & Vine

Bottoms up!

We are officially back in the "big smoke".

Our little (temporary) apartment has little more than a few white goods and a bed at the moment, but we are once again Sydney-siders.

I've been slow to dive back into the rush of city living, I dipped a proverbial toe in the waters first.

But, I'll admit to be being a little excited to experience some new aspects of Sydney living.

Cheers!


Kate  x


Styling and Photograph by Moss & Vine

Good taste

When I was growing up this painting hung on the wall above the television. I didn't pay much attention to it, frankly I didn't care for art very much.

I feel differently these days of course. I squealed with delight when I found a room filled with Degas in the Met when I was visiting New York. I am consistently green with envy when I see beautiful paintings on Antiques Roadshow. And I often think art collecting would be an exciting hobby if I ever had the money.

My Mum has wonderful taste. This painting belongs to her.

The delicate blue plumbago seemed like a pretty accompaniment. 

I've just spent a few weeks at her home on the south coast, picking flowers and taking photos. I can't wait to return at Easter time and see what is flowering then.

Kate  x

Styling and Photographs by Moss & Vine

26 nectar moments OR comparison is the thief of joy

 It's my birthday! I am 26 years old.

 My twenties (so far) have been more wonderful than not. I am healthy, educated, fiscally fit, and happy. It is more than many people get in a lifetime. But there has also been an abundance of self-doubt, and harmful comparison of my life with other "more successful" people that I know. I am gradually realising that it is far more useful to focus on the things you have accomplished, than to always look to the things you hoped to have already achieved.

Have you heard of the Nectar List?

It's the opposite of a bucket list. It's fun, and if you do it right, it breeds a feeling of satisfaction and, even more rare, contentment.

So for my 26th birthday, I sat down and wrote 26 entries on my very own nectar list.

1. I've photographed the rooftops of Paris from the Eiffel Tower

2. I've had a brilliant view of New York's Central Park from a plane window

3. I've had a bonfire in my garden

4. I've watched the new year fireworks beneath the Sydney Harbour Bridge

5. I've had jewellery bought for me at Tiffany, 5th Avenue

6. I've lived in a multi-generational household

7. I've climbed to the top of St Paul's Cathedral, London

8. I've swum in a muddy dam

9. I've swum in an infinity pool

10. I've fed the monkeys at the top of Murugan temple, Kuala Lumpur

11. I've dined at Rockpool

12. I've dined at the Auckland sky tower revolving restaurant

13. I've lived abroad

14. I've seen the Olympic torch being skied down a mountain

15. I've rode on the back of a camel on the beach

16. I've walked The Mall, Washington DC

17. I've felt euphoric with the realisation that there are empty seats next to me on a long-haul flight

18. I've perused Degas' famous works at The Met

19. I've been brought to tears by music

20. I've been brought to tears at a wedding

21. I've chopped my hair off with reckless abandon

22. I've seen Girl Reading by Renoir (one of my favourite paintings) in the Musée d'Orsay

23. I've held the soft-cover, published work of my brother in my hands

24. I've bathed by starlight in a hot mineral spa on the edge of Lake Rotorua

25. I've watched the sun set over the Indian ocean

26. I've planted a herb garden

Of course, there is far more to my life (and everyone's life) than those 26 simple things. I could probably write a list of 260 things and still not be done. 

I'm hopeful that my 26th year will bring more nectar to my existence. 

Let's eat cake!

Kate  x

Flowers, Styling and Photographs by Moss & Vine