She sells sea shells

Jun9

I love learning new things. I had a prospective customer contact me recently about an Art Deco abalone and mother of pearl brooch for sale in my Etsy shop. She mentioned it would pair nicely with her maireener necklaces in the same colours. I’d never come across the word maireener before, so scurried off to google for a quick search, and learned it is a type of sea shell found only in Australia, is also known as the rainbow kelp shell, and has been used by Tasmanian Aboriginal peoples in their jewellery for millennia. Aunty Dulcie Greeno is an Aboriginal woman living in Launceston in Tasmania, and she continues the tradition, making beautiful necklaces which she sells. She travels twice a year to the Furneaux Islands, where she was born, to collect the shells.

A maireener (rainbow kelp shell) necklace by Aunt Dulcie.

A maireener (rainbow kelp shell) necklace by Aunty Dulcie Greeno. Simply gorgeous!

I find shell jewellery so attractive, and I’m guessing other people do too as it accounts for a good proportion of my sales so far. I have already sold a stunning Arts and Crafts abalone brooch attributed to Scottish jeweller Mary Thew, and a small abalone and silver brooch with a triangular motif. I have a couple more still for sale—my favourite of all my pieces is an Art Nouveau abalone and silver brooch, and I also have the funky Art Deco brooch mentioned above, and a Mexican abalone and silver pendant and chain.

There’s something about the iridescent peacock colours of abalone I find absolutely irresistible—the opals of the sea! Or as my prospective customer so eloquently put it: ‘Excellent elegant mermaid wear’.

Arts and Crafts abalone and silver brooch, attributed to Scottish jeweller Mary Thew (NOW SOLD).

Detail of the abalone plaque

Silver and abalone brooch (NOW SOLD).

Stunning Art Nouveau abalone and silver brooch, for sale at Inglenookery. (NOW SOLD).

Art Deco abalone and mother of pearl brooch, for sale at Inglenookery. (NOW SOLD).

Vintage Mexican sterling silver and abalone pendant and chain, for sale at Inglenookery. (NOW SOLD).

Making space for nature: swallows

Jun6

Recently Chap and I were at the Dorchester Curiosity Centre, a favourite spot for rootling about among antiques and bric a brac, looking for treasures. It’s on an old industrial estate in a series of interlinking hangar-like rooms. One of the areas has high sliding doors to the outside and is used for furniture storage rather than display—and what drew us in there was the twittering of swallows. As we were admiring them as they flew in and out through the open doors, the owner (?) of the centre came by and chatted with us about how they come every year and nest in the eaves and holes in the gable end of the wall, and how he had hung up some protective sheets overhead to keep the droppings from landing on the furniture (and punters). He mentioned that some customers had said he should shoo them away and prevent them from nesting. We were so glad he chose to ignore those people—swallows are such a delight and their nesting spots are increasingly under threat. And they will certainly draw us back there!

Swallows (image from Richard Crossley - The Crossley ID Guide Britain and Ireland)

Swallows (image from The Crossley ID Guide Britain and Ireland, by Richard Crossley).

Our village church has a Swallow Mess Committee (I don’t think they call themselves that …) as swallows nest every year in the porch. The members of the SMC duly clear up after them. I think they might even have a rota for oomska duty.

Swallow chicks in their nest (and oomska). Photo by User:Wsiegmund on Wikimedia.

Another church I know has an umbrella hanging upside-down below the nest in the porch to catch the mess. We are so grateful that people go to this kind of trouble for our feathered friends: an English summer wouldn’t be the same without them. Chap and I keep a nature diary and every year we note the date of various spring ‘firsts’—first brimstone, first bat, first clump of frogspawn in our pond, first hedgehog poo on the lawn—but the first swallow is the one that means the most.

One of my favourite mugs, by Emma Bridgwater (Photo off eBay)

One of my favourite mugs is a swallow one by Emma Bridgwater. I was going to link to it in her shop but it looks like the company doesn’t make that design any more. I shall have to be doubly careful of mine, in that case. And of our great bustard one: that’s a special one and I’ll squeeze a blog post out of it at some point …

Sunday stroll: Fonthill Lake

May25

Chap (my better half) and I went for a walk this afternoon around Fonthill Lake, in south Wiltshire, near the small village of Fonthill Bishop. Here the eccentric and phenomenally rich William Beckford (1760—1844) built his famous (or perhaps that should be infamous) Fonthill Abbey—while it still stood one of the great tourist attractions of the country. Construction on the Abbey, which despite its name was never a religious house, was started in 1796 and after its 300-foot high tower fell for the third time in 1825, the Abbey was demolished. The Fonthill Estate is now owned by Lord Margadale.

Fonthill Abbey, before it fell down. A modest little pile, wasn’t it?

As well as building the Abbey, Beckford landscaped the estate grounds. He dammed a small stream to form the long, sinuous Fonthill Lake, and built an impressive gateway into his estate on the Fonthill Bishop to Hindon road. He scattered grottoes and statuary around the estate. Money was no object.

We parked up near the village cricket ground, where a match was in progress. Neither Chap nor I follow cricket so we had no idea what was going on. It looked very picturesque though.

Sunday cricket match at Fonthill Bishop.

We walked past sheep and lambs grazing on the lush green pastures to the gateway with its fabulous green men keystones—talk about making an entrance!

Fonthill Estate gateway near Fonthill Bishop

Green men on both sides of the two archway keystones.

View from the other side. They look a bit grumpy, don’t they?

The lake might look familiar—all the river scenes in the Johnny Depp and Juliette Binoche film Chocolat were filmed here.

Fonthill Lake.

The estate parkland is beautifully planted, with some wonderful mature trees, including pink-flowered horse chestnuts. I love this time of year—the green of the grass is almost unreal it’s so zingy. May is definitely my favourite month.

Parkland in Fonthill Estate.

The may blossom (hawthorn) is just starting to go over, and the cow parsley is too—together they make such a beautiful white froth of blossom.

Cow parsley (Anthriscus sylvestris).

Looking northwards up the lake.

At the head of the lake by the dam is a hydropower unit installed in 2011 that generates enough electricity from the dam outflow to power 11 typical houses. Yay for green power!

Beyond the dam once stood a massive woollen mill, long-since demolished.

Where the little building is now, in 1820 stood a 105-foot long, six storey woollen mill, powered by three water wheels and employing 200 people. It wasn’t a financial success and so was removed in 1830 by the new owner (Beckford had sold up by then) to restore the aesthetics of the lake.

Yellow flag iris (Iris pseudacorus)

Pretty yellow flag irises grow around the lake edge.

On the way back we saw a fresh, newly-hatched lacewing fluttering about, and it settled on Chap for a bit. They have the most beautiful coppery coloured eyes.

Lacewing (Chrysoperla carnea) on Chap’s finger. (For the benefit of readers of a nervous disposition, I’ve cropped out his hairy knuckles!)

We stopped to investigate one of the grottoes—this one was built out of tufa blocks and had the most massive ivy plant (more like a tree, really) growing atop it. Someone had been having a fun evening there: there were the remains of a bonfire and an empty glass perched on the grotto (bonus points if you can spot it!)

One of the many grottoes at Fonthill Estate. This is a wee one compared to most of them!

As we walked back to the car the cricket match was finishing to the sound of clapping—and then tea and cakes in the pavilion, no doubt.

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She sells sea shells

Making space for nature: swallows

Sunday stroll: Fonthill Lake