Well, that was an exhausting weekend!
(I know, for all you Americans it was probably even worse, but bear with me)
Twelve hours of travelling on Thursday, two days filled with family and announcements (I'll get to that later), and twelve hours of travelling on Sunday, with Mr. Cisco with the flu. Poor Mr. Cisco. We've slept and slept, ate junk food and watched TV today, trying to get back into the rhythm we'll have to keep in the next few weeks of work, and more work, before we go back to Portugal again in less than a month. (By work I mean PhD, finally getting the shops up, and Portuguese tutoring, which is fun but tiring at the same time)
We took the opportunity that we were seeing our families again (all the grandparents were surprised, only parents knew we were coming) to announce that Mr. Cisco finally decided to make an honest woman out of me, and proposed last week. There's still no date (sometime in the Spring), no place (somewhere by the sea) and no ring (when we somehow have money - I found the perfect one, but it's £700, which makes it impossible. Sniff.) Our families didn't seem surprised at all (we have been living together for 6 years now, after all), but all our friends did, especially the ones I asked to be my Godparents (sort of like Best Man and Maid of Honour, except both Groom and Bride have both). I think it's because we're all 14 in our heads, and certainly not at an age to get marry. I still do! Even Cisco has to be constantly reminded of what number comes after 2 when he's asked for his age (he's apparently stuck at 22, which, I guess, is a good age as any).
We want something very small, and not religious. It'll only be Parents, Grandparents, Brothers and Friends, which are the really important people in our lives. (if we added uncles, aunts and cousins, Cisco's side would swell by 17). So, around 25 people. That won't provide a very big buffer between Mother and Father, but they'll just have to behave (Mother has already told me she'll bring a knife in her garter, which sort of indicates how much she likes her ex.) Even with such a tiny wedding there's a lot of stuff to take care of, which we'll have to do over the Christmas period.
Of course, what Cisco is really excited about is the honeymoon and the stag/hen night (we're having both together.) Ever since he's been to Aswan with his parents he wanted to go back there, and so he's taking me! The Old Cataract hotel seems truly magnificent, and as an avid Agatha Christie fan I'm very happy to spend my honeymoon there.
I'm very happy in general, if tired today. Thanks to all the ladies that left comments! I have a busy week ahead of me, but I really hope I will be able to take the damn photographs once and for all. I've also discovered french knitting, thanks to the lovely Carolyn. I have a few ideas of what to do with it, but does anybody know of a good resource about this?
Abandoned things always have something evocative about them, I think - maybe that's why places like Venice are so popular. Make us think of who owned the objects, who lived in the houses, of lives that no one remembers any more.
I live in a small private road, and on the other side of it, in front of my house, there is a small complex of sheltered housing. When someone dies (and this happens often), the caretaker simply piles up all the things that the family and the charity shop didn't want out on the street. This happened yesterday. There were old chairs and furniture, paintings, a velvet box, a little vase with plastic plants. Everything was already somewhat ruined by the rain that had been falling all day. Thrift shops are picky - they won't take anything that has even the slightest damage. No old sofas because they don't meet fire regulations, no old prints because they look faded. So the last everyday possessions of the elderly get piled out on the street, waiting for the garbage truck.
Sometimes it is just tat; sometimes, like the antique sewing machine with the thread still in the needle, it's heartbreaking. I had to take it home with me.
That happened a couple of months ago, in the Summer. Me and Cisco were going shopping in Didsbury, and he had gone back up the stairs to fetch the cellphone he had forgotten. Right in front of our house was a nondescript wooden cupboard, that had obviously seen better days. One of the doors was slightly ajar, and as I peeked inside I could see a black iron curlicue. By playing with the top, I found a beautiful antique sewing machine, with gold and red decoration, and inside the cupboard was its table and pedal. It still worked, and, as I've said, it still had thread on the needle.I finally managed to get it home after shopping, with the help of my lovely neighbour Lisa, with whom I broke away the old wood chip to reveal it in all it's glory. Cisco carried it up; it's still waiting for a bigger house to be displayed as it deserves. It's the one int the picture.
I've always been fascinated by the idea of antique and bric-a-brac shops. When I was little I would write short stories about these stores, describing in detail what was on the shelves, where the things had come from, who used to own them. There were magicians implements, and old charts from long dead sea Captains, love letters that were turning to dust, and boxes from China that no one could open.
I think this still translates into what I design. I still use a lot of ephemera - children's scraps, trading cards, old postcards - because I still love things that have a sense of history, things that were handed down, or played with, or collected, or loved, before they got to me.
I like working with little treasures.
My favourite house is still in Cascais, a grand villa that has a tree growing inside it, and no roof.