Velvet curtains & blogging for idiots

First rule of blogging for idiots: write the post first, in fact write the post in Notepad before you start fiddling with the technical stuff.

Somewhere, floating in the techno stew is the most brilliant post about French velvet curtains redolent of provincial hotels – however, I stopped halfway through diverted by uploading the picture and options on offer and lost it forever.

We’d got up at the crack to drive a van over to Manchester and help Garden Guerilla Girl get the last sticks out of her old family home. A 1930s bedroom suite, some bits from the garden and an anvil being all that remained, it barely made a vanful to bring to an end 3 or 4 generations in the same house. We left GGG performing a last neighbourly act and mowing the lawn for the batty old lady next door that she’d known all her life.

On the way back we stopped here, at Cafe Nats in Buxton, one of my favourite places. Not just a cafe, but they sell old textiles, velvet curtains and engaging bits of junk as well. She goes to the giant flea market in Lille, the lady here, and sold us our bedroom curtains, big enough for chapel windows, dark green with slight fading in streaks where they’d hung through long quiet dusty French afternoons.