Magpie Cottage on Treacle Mine Road

A miniature setting should be able to stand on it's own without explanation, and I believe my Cornish cottage does that. However, since so much of this setting has memories or special meanings for me I will indulge myself and explain some of the bits and bobs that I consider quite special. In truth, this cottage has been about 20 years in the making, some of the pieces picked up during early trips to England. Once I constructed the room itself (it was a weekend project requiring my daughter's very able assistance) I found I already had most of the pieces that eventually found a home inside & outside the aged cob walls.

In Cornwall you are never far from the sea, so my resident is a fisherman with a model ship on the wall, and his nets drying outside along with a few glass floats and the odd seashell.  He is sitting down to breakfast - his wife has been up for hours and hot Cornish pasties for his lunch are cooling on the stove.

Don't miss the English Robin perched on the open kitchen window.

The table is set with a full English breakfast, a Brown Betty teapot, last weeks 'Beano' for amusement, and HP Sauce for the sausage. Someone has left a Meccano set of the Tower Bridge on the chair - I have a soft spot for the Tower Bridge My Tower Bridge Bathroom

That's a Cornishware jam pot with the cold toast.

 I knew exactly what kind of stove I wanted and I knew I needed just the right mantel. My son-in-law took on the task, choosing just the perfect piece of rhododendron branch and carving and finishing it to perfection. On it I placed a Toby Jug, pewter platter, a bottle of Beefeater's gin, ciggy's & matches - all traditional British brands. In the cupboard are more British brands - Wheatabix, Hobnobs, Smartees and all the necessary Cornishware dishes.

The magazine on the mantel is a Coronation souvenir.

For the wife, breakfast makings are just waiting to be cleaned up.

As much as I love the traditional English postbox, I love the way one finds the flat fronted mail drops stuck in the odd coutryside stone wall or cob building. Street names are also often posted on the buildings so as a massive Terry Pratchett fan I couldn't resist Treacle Mine Road for an address.

Peeping out of the barrel...what else...a hedgehog!

One last item needs to be mentioned, the cat lounging at the front of the cottage. Not just any old cat, this is THE Mousehole cat. A bit more here: Mousehole Cat

Most of the particularly English miniatures I have collected have been used in this setting. The word 'most' is important here because I find there is still a quantity of teapots to be dealt with. Stay tuned, Teapot Cottage is coming soon to a blog near you!

 More Magpie Cottage

I am NOT a Hoarder...

Is a collection something you work at, or something that just happens as a result of your interests, affections, inheritances, or personal quirks?  I think it can be any of these things or a combination thereof and I suspect there are other reasons that have simply not occurred to me.  What about collections where you have lost all interest in collecting further, but still appreciate what you have accumulated? What about the collection you have inherited from your Mom or great aunt – something you are not remotely interested in but which for you hold a great fondness because of the previous owner?

I started reading a book once about people who collect, I thought I might find some insights about myself.  By the end of Chapter One I had rejected the premise that I had had a deprived childhood, that I was wreaking revenge on one of my parents for God-knows-what, or that I needed psychiatric help.  While these may all apply to a greater or lesser degree to the type of hoarder which reality TV has recently embraced, I am sure there are a great many collectors who quite simply collect because they are drawn, for whatever reason, to a certain type of object.

Yes, we sometimes overspend on our collections (I gather by now you have figured out I am a collector).  Personally I confess to a penchant for things that are numbered – things which have a finite number and a list I can gleefully check off as my collection grows.

When I was a very little girl my mother started a collection for me of little shoes – china, glass, etc.  I don’t know why she didn’t just collect them herself, but I expect she had been raised to think there was something wrong in spending money on something so patently useless, so in classic parental self-deceit she started buying me shoes.  In the interest of complete disclosure, I confess to starting a collection of small heart boxes for my daughter.  I have absolutely no idea what possessed me.  My daughter never actually collected heart boxes on her own and I never actually collected shoes.  But after disposing of the majority of the collection when I was in my forties, I now have a small collection of shoes which I treasure.



An undusted collection of citrus juicers

My house is afflicted with a lot of collections, some of which I began determinedly and with much enthusiasm.  Some just seemed to happen…they happen like this: you see (or are given) something which pleases you immensely.  You set it out where you can enjoy it.  One day you are walking through a shop and you see something similar which pleases you as much as the original, so you buy it.  Here is where it gets a little tricky.  Everyone knows that two items do not display as artistically as three so it is just a matter of time until you find the third and voila! you have a collection.  Pretty soon people notice you seem to have a fondness for Minnie Mouse, or Brown Betty teapots, or glass paperweights and come your next birthday you realize you couldn’t stop this collection if you wanted to.



Cornishware - named after the blue skies and white cob houses of Cornwall

I expect to share most of my collections with you at some point – with information, photos, and rationalizations.  But it has to be said here and now that if you think collections are just “clutter” you may find it disturbing.  I refer you to a blog I have been following for most of this year: A Collection a Day, 2010 by artist Lisa Congdon.  I see a lot of items I grew up with, and quite a few that sit in some of my collections. 

http://collectionaday2010.blogspot.com/



This is my studio bathroom wall inspired by Lisa Congdon

The important thing about a collection for me is having at least parts of it out where I see it everyday.  I think, for the most part, I am inspired to collect visually…antique postcards, or books by certain illustrators. 

We won’t talk about the numbered, listed thing – that might actually require a few visits with a shrink.  But I promise, I have no collections of plastic margerine tubs or old newspapers...and I can still walk anywhere I want to.

A Long Climb - Porthcurno

I am in the process of transcribing a journal I wrote on my first trip to England in 1986.  It has been a very long time since I read through it and I certainly have become a more experienced traveler since then.  Everything was so new and exciting on this trip for both my daughter and myself.   So as I go through it, I will share some of the bits that I find amusing, interesting, or embarrassing with you.

Porthcurno is close to Land’s End in Cornwall and home of the famous Minack Theatre (which is another entry altogether).  This is the entry, only slightly edited, as we made our way there for the first of what would eventually be three visits.

We passed by famous Land’s End with only a glimpse from the top of the road.  We just couldn’t work up any enthusiasm for it and so went straight on into Porthcurno and began looking for the Minack Theatre.  We had already discovered, to our great disappointment, that we were in the middle of the two day layover between productions, but we wanted to see the theatre itself regardless.

At this point we did what has become something of a joke for us; that is, take a path or a road or a carpark when we arrive someplace, only to find there is another one (or two) which is  much shorter, closer, or less steep.  We took the “Coast Path” up to the theatre, not realizing we could have driven right up the land side of the hill to a carpark within mere feet of the ticket booth.  We rather suspected we were taking an alternate path when we began because of the sign posted warning against use by the aged or the infirm.  I can tell you firsthand that if you weren’t aged or infirm when you began the climb, you were by the time you reached the top.  The path took us up the cliff – I’m not stretching it at all when I call it a cliff – to a viewpoint overlooking the lovely sand beach across Porthcurno Bay.  At that point the path divided, we took what we hoped was the less challenging of the two with survival in mind.  When we finally made it to the top we labeled a new category of experience: ’ I’m glad I didn’t know then what I know now or I wouldn’t have done what I’m glad I did.’  This applies most often to long climbs necessary to get somewhere and it seems there is a long climb necessary to get anywhere in England, so the list is growing fast.

What made the climb more than worthwhile was the breathtaking (no pun intended) vistas every time you stopped for a minute.  It was at this point that it occurred to me for the first time that I was looking at the Atlantic Ocean.  My rather limited experience with oceans had allowed me to subconsciously think of any body of water that extended beyond the horizon as the Pacific Ocean.  Obviously, this path was used only  just often enough to keep it visible in the grass, because there was not a single piece of litter to be seen and the wildflowers grew and were blooming everywhere.  It was a memorable experience.

The path went up the right side of this photo, somewhat above what can be seen here.
Photo by Oliver Beattie

And just for the record, we walked back to the carpark down the regular road.

A Bookish Idea

Thomas Hardy's Childhood Home, Lower Bockhampton, Dorset



I have a lot more good ideas than I have time or money.  Unfortunately, I usually find enough of both to start something – but often not enough to finish.  Let’s be honest, I’m just not good at finishing things.  So if it’s a good idea that can be worked in stages, there is a chance for some success.

Most of my trips to England have several slots in the itinerary for the homes of my favorite English authors or locations associated with their lives or books.  This is not difficult as England is just crawling with both of these.  If I like an author, I want to read everything he has written and I want the books on my shelves because I am one of those odd ducks who rereads books on a regular basis.  (This is something I will probably discuss at a later date.) I try to buy used books whenever possible – it saves money, it saves books, and I often get a pleasant little surprise that has been inadvertently tucked in the book by the original owner.  I’ve found such things as a French train ticket, a vintage London bookstore receipt, and a ticket stub from an early Star Trek movie – not to mention bookmarks from exotic locations, like Cleveland. 

So here is a lovely idea I had which I would like to recommend to any avid readers out there.  When you are ordering prints from your vacation – get an extra copy of any that are associated with a book on your shelf, write the date and general information on the back, and tuck it in the book.  I can imagine someone, perhaps a grandchild, opening Hardy’s “Mayor of Casterbridge” and finding a photo of  The King's Arms' Hotel in Dorchester High Street - its "spacious bow-window projected into the street over the main portico," through which Mrs. Henchard saw her husband being entertained as Mayor of Casterbridge.  More likely, they’ll open a Harry Potter book and find the Gloucester Cathedral Cloisters, a filming location for several of the movies.

Here is an example: The Book

The photo of an actual Mousehole Cat taken in Mousehole, Cornwall in 2007:

A photo of my miniature Cornish Kitchen with the Mousehole Cat sunning himself:

(more about this kitchen later)

 I’m actually doing this – and someday, someone’s gonna really love it!

A little library, growing every year, is an honorable part of a man's history.  It is a man's duty to have books.   - Henry Ward Beecher