Bonjour/Hello, You will, I am sure, be delighted to learn that I have finally found my glass candlesticks. They were exactly where I left them. I have no recollection, mature or otherwise, of putting them where I eventually found them.  Of course, they came to light when I was looking for something else entirely. I am almost positively pretty sure that I had checked that particular box before. I suspect my brain of hiding things from me. It’s guilty of this quite often. As every time I go back and check through the boxes, I find something new. Well, not new exactly. Just things I’ve failed to notice.


A brocante bargain brought to life in Babouche by Farrow & Ball, and dressed in Okno. I like to think Van Gogh would be pleased… and flattered.

Noticing is harder than you might imagine, which is why more than one book has been published on the exact art and subtle science of seeing. Being still is a good start I find. And purposeless. It’s amazing what you notice when you’re not looking for something.


I like to rearrange my things periodically, so that I see them in a new light. So that I actually notice them as I pass by. And seeing anew the things I already have is a lot less expensive than buying new things.


I find the repositioning and regrouping a mindful and soothing occupation. And am never happier when all is arranged as it should be. For aesthetics are important. Otherwise why would things set askew bother me so. One millimetre can make the difference between delight and dismay. As the saintly patient Boyfriend has discovered. I suspect that his “yes, dear” encapsulates a multitude of meanings when we’re (re)hanging pictures. Or positioning shelves in the pantry. Or moving the really quite heavy planter… “slightly to the right. Ah, no, a little to the left. Hmmm, maybe a little more right. Yes, that’s it. Or maybe back a bit? What do you think?” But he agrees with me that the effort is worth it, for…


“The Beautiful is everywhere; perhaps more in the arrangement of your saucepans on the white walls of your kitchen than in your eighteenth-century living room or in the official museums.” – Fernand Léger


We could all do with beauty in our lives. And you don’t even have to leave your house to benefit from it. Now, I just need to find my old garden lanterns, which I am almost pretty sure I saw in one of the boxes recently. I am in desperate need of them for the citronella candles. Mosquitoes and I really do not get on…


A bientôt


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