This morning got off to a good start when I fired up the computer to find lovely positive responses to yesterday’s post on here and on Twitter.
I’d been nervous about confessing to my cringey little ritual with the pinking shears and the neurotically horded tiny pieces of ribbon – only to find that loads of other people save those ribbons too.
It’s funny how it’s always the posts and columns you think ‘This is a weird one, they’re all going to go right off me now…’ which get the biggest response.
After that I didn’t have long at my screen as we had to leave by 9.30 latest (husband’s orders) to drive to Oxfordshire to meet up with sister, brother and sister-in-law and mother for lunch, so we could then bring my mum back here for Christmas.
We meet at the country branch of Lassco, the amazing architectural salvage yard (they have two amazing sites in London as well), because it’s half way between me and my sister and mother, close to my brother, and two minutes off the motorway.
It’s also the most fabulously atmospheric place, with roaring log fires and you eat your lunch next to a row of elegant claw foot baths.
I love roaming around seeing what rusty treasures I can find. They’re so artlessly clever the way they mix them all up. A tower of industrial metal storage boxes, next to a marble urn, then a huge chandelier next to some beaten up old steamer trunk.
And to let you in on a little secret, it’s one of the places which inspired the setting of my new book…