Cath Kidston eat your heart out and come to Morvah - and a bit about the baby.

So I don't like Cath Kidston. I loathe the forced supposedly retro - kitschness of it all. The odd item is ok I suppose, but too much is, well too much. Plus - who the hell would spend £8 on a sodding tea towel? Not me, that's for sure.

 

I do however like proper retro - kitsch - genuine stuff is good but going into her shop is a sensory overload and not in a good way.

 

I went to Morvah tonight where I had done a quiz for The School House art gallery. You want to see genuine old stuff that will warm the cockles of your heart? Then come to Morvah!

 

This was the refreshment table!

 

 

Proper gingham, proper china tea plates, proper sugar bowls  and proper cakes. My god it was certainly heavenly.

 

I have a bit of a thing about church halls and village halls and old fashioned community places. It evokes a huge sense of nostalgia in me and takes me back to Brownies, youth groups, fund raising jumble sales etc etc when I was younger and the fact that there would always be a slab of cake and  cuppa at some point during the day. The cakes that I incidentally resisted tonight were looking lush and when they seductively peeled the cling film off I had an orgasmic whiff of lemon drizzle, swiss roll and heavily buttered scone.

 

I had a strong coffee which I sipped with a smug grimace on my face. I wanted nothing more than to sample the items on that table but I didn't. Life sucks sometimes doesn't it?

 I sent Leanne a photo and I know she would have had a wave of pleasure seeing it. She is coming to the next one. She will love it.

 

Oh and while I'm on it - those arty types up Morvah are more rowdy than the Polmanter lot. They are all highly intelligent ( or so they think ) and some actually had a pained expression on their faces when I did an X factor question or anything to do with telly or films or anything vaguely popular culture. I'm not quite sure they were expecting or wanting me to ask but I did get a bit grumpy towards the end when they kept asking me to repeat the question that they had mumbled all the way through. Someone else is doing the next quiz there. I am going for the mumbling and the cake.

 

Oh and a new king was born. I am generally anti royalist, but I still watched the news most of the day. I hope they call him something normal and I hope they are happy.

 

You see - I'm not all bad.

 And to prove it, I am going to post here one of my favourite poems by Philip Larkin as it's about a newborn baby. The poem was written for a girl so I have changed the  words slightly.

 

 

Tightly-folded bud,
I have wished you something
None of the others would:
Not the usual stuff
About being beautiful,
Or running off a spring
Of innocence and love -
They will all wish you that,
And should it prove possible,
Well, you're a lucky boy.

        But if it shouldn't, then
May you be ordinary;
Have, like other men,
An average of talents:
Not ugly, not good-looking,
Nothing uncustomary
To pull you off your balance,
That, unworkable itself,
Stops all the rest from working.
In fact, may you be dull -
If that is what a skilled,
Vigilant, flexible,
Unemphasised, enthralled
Catching of happiness is called