the stanford country fair

we had a brilliant time at the very first stanford country fair, last weekend. it felt like a mini-grahamstown festival, with live music performances by arno carstens, albert frost, valiant swart and lucy kruger. we were riveted by arno and albert's unplugged performance on friday night; their perfect blend of rock 'n roll magic (including more than a few broken guitar strings) fuelling the heaving tent of culture-hungry onlookers. lucy graced the stage on saturday and sunday, with various musicians accompanying her on the bass and the cajon. news of her angelic voice swept through the village faster than a rumour - look out for her in grahamstown next week - she's something truly special. i also jammed a little jazz set and didn't collapse in a sweaty heap of stage fright! we partied with the bands every night and caught up with friends over breakfast rolls and bloody marys in the morning. it was a weekend of belly aching laughter, dancing, music, singing and joy. my son sang ziggy stardust, accompanied by lucy on the guitar - and thus became a legend.

love will tear us apart

 When routine bites hard,
And ambitions are low,
And resentment rides high,
But emotions won't grow,
And we're changing our ways, taking different roads.

Then love, love will tear us apart again.
Love, love will tear us apart again.

Why is the bedroom so cold?
You've turned away on your side.
Is my timing that flawed?
Our respect runs so dry.
Yet there's still this appeal
That we've kept through our lives.

But love, love will tear us apart again.
Love, love will tear us apart again.

You cry out in your sleep,
All my failings exposed.
And there's a taste in my mouth,
As desperation takes hold.
Just that something so good just can't function no more.

But love, love will tear us apart again.
Love, love will tear us apart again.
Love, love will tear us apart again.
Love, love will tear us apart again.

- Joy Division

don't f*ck with their puddings

One of my favourite excerpts on the subject of pudding, taken from Bill Bryson's 'Notes from a Small Island':

'Given the nature of the hotel I'd expected the menu to feature items like brown Windsor soup and roast beef and Yorkshire pudding, but of course things have moved on in the hotel trade. The menu now was richly endowed with ten-guinea words that you wouldn't have seen on a menu ten years ago - 'noisettes', 'tartare', 'duxelle', 'coulis', 'timbale' - and written in a curious inflatedlanguage with eccentric capitalizations. I had, and I quote, 'Fanned Galia Melon and Cumbrian Air Dried Ham served with a Mixed leaf Salad' followed by 'Fillet Steak served with a crushed Black Peppercorn Sauce flamed in Brandy and finished with Cream', which together were nearly as pleasurable to read as to eat.

I was greatly taken with this new way of talking and derived considerable pleasure from speaking it to the waiter. I asked him for a lustre of water freshly drawn from the house tap and presented au nature in a cylinder of glass, and when he came round with the bread rolls I entreated him to present me a tonged rondel of blanched wheat oven baked and masked in a poppy-seed coating. I was just getting warmed up to this and about to ask for a fanned lap coverlet, freshly laundered and scented with a delicate hint of Omo, to replace the one that had slipped from my lap and now lay recumbent on the horizontal walking surface anterior to my feet when he handed me a card that said 'Sweets Menu' and I realized that we were back in the no-nonsense world of English.

It's a funny thing about English diners. They'll let you dazzle them with piddly duxelles of this and fussy little noisettes of that, but don't fuck with their puddings, which is my thinking exactly.'

recipe taken from 'what katie ate'

click click, deliver

online shopping at 36boutiques is now pretty much the only way i now clothe myself, so i've been saving pics of some of my favourite pieces. i like pairing basic dresses with leather jackets or coats for winter, with stockings and boots, or oxfords. i love the dress-gilet-jacket-snood layered look and the oversized shirt-denims-leather jacket-scarf-boots look. i love a beautiful maxi skirt and have been waiting for 36boutiques to stock a few - this is just one of the designs and colours they have just brought in. if you click on the links underneath the pictures, you'll be taken to the garment...

 shirt dress

 dress with elastic detail

 

 the most exquisite leather handbags by gruber and whale

 delicious warm fuzzy snood

basic black frock with sexy low-cut back

soft lamb leather jacket

denim shirt with elbow patch

 military style shirt dress

  

 snood

 nine west leather boots

maxi skirt

 lace-up heeled brogue

'guy with camera' falls in love with stanford

andrew brauteseth (or '@guy_with_camera' as we know him from twitter) spent a few nights at pizbrooke country cottage in stanford this weekend, and posted his incredible photographs on his blog

second summer in may

the weather in may has been absolutely delicious and has to be the cape's best kept secret.

pie

i've always dreamt of finding a pie restaurant like the one in the film, 'true romance', where i could order different slices of delicious, warm pie. i'm still searching...

images from my 'scrumptious' board on pinterest

sara - bob dylan

I laid on a dune I looked at the sky
When the children were babies and played on the beach
You came up behind me, I saw you go by
You were always so close and still within reach.

Sara, Sara
Whatever made you want to change your mind
Sara, Sara
So easy to look at, so hard to define.

I can still see them playing with their pails in the sand
They run to the water their buckets to fill
I can still see the shells falling out of their hands
As they follow each other back up the hill.

Sara, Sara
Sweet virgin angel, sweet love of my life
Sara, Sara
Radiant jewel, mystical wife.

Sleeping in the woods by a fire in the night
Drinking white rum in a Portugal bar
Them playing leapfrog and hearing about Snow White
You in the marketplace in Savanna-la-Mar.

Sara, Sara
It's all so clear, I could never forget
Sara, Sara
Loving you is the one thing I'll never regret.

I can still hear the sounds of those Methodist bells
I'd taken the cure and had just gotten through
Staying up for day in the Chelsea Hotel
Writing "Sad-Eyed Lady of the Lowlands" for you.

Sara, Sara
Wherever we travel we're never apart
Sara, Sara
Beautiful lady, so dear to my heart.
How did I meet you ? I don't know
A messenger sent me in a tropical storm
You were there in the winter, moonlight on the snow
And on Lily Pond Lane when the weather was warm.

Sara, Sara
Scorpio Sphinx in a calico dress
Sara, Sara
You must forgive me my unworthiness.

Now the beach is deserted except for some kelp
And a piece of an old ship that lies on the shore
You always responded when I needed your help
You gimme a map and a key to your door.

Sara, Sara
Glamorous nymph with an arrow and bow
Sara, Sara
Don't ever leave me, don't ever go.