Junk in the trunk?

Panama hat? I can't sell that, I look so cool in it!

Car boot time...I've been threatening for around three years to do one...the time has come. The past's treasures (aka junk) are piling up into an unmanageable mass almost visible from space.

Into the boot it goes. Destination - a field on a Sunday morning. Of course the forecast is for rain. It would be the same if we'd decided to camp. I am undeterred. Serious buyers will turn up in the rain. The will be unable to resist our wares. I'm hoping the Dr. Who fish tank will be a big earner, what about those Barbies  (only slightly matted hair) must be worth a £1 to make a small girl happy?

I've been busily filling up boxes and bags, family have been busy retrieving treasures "we can't sell that" is the cry. Why can't we sell it? You haven't seen or used it for five years. Well...I have news, I'm home alone and it's all in the car boot already. Hopefully the 7am start will mean offspring is too dozy to notice I'm selling off her egg cup collection. 

Are we cut out for London?

A trip to London Town was well overdue. Daughter in the midst of revision for test week at school…a whole weekend away was out of the question, so a day trip on the train to primarily see a textiles exhibition was ideal. We have an incredibly early start, on the train for 6.40. We treat ourselves to a bacon buttie and a coffee from the buffet and we are there…London baby.

The Textiles museum doesn’t open until 11 am so we hop on a bus to Oxford Street. It’s just gone 9 am, which appears to be the perfect time to go to one of the busiest shopping streets known to ladies with a desire to spend. No other shoppers. Unfortunately not all the shopkeepers are there either - 10 am start - what southern softies. From the bus we spy a desirable open shop and all pile in. I wander round aimlessly, wife and child spot the sale rail. New skinny jeans tried on and purchased all before 10 am! Impressive. That's teenagers for you. Right - on to Muji!

Textile time. On the tube and on foot to Bermondsey. Lots of walking, but it's in the glorious sunshine to it's all good.

John Rombola "circus scene'

We love love love the textiles. Artists textiles form Picasso to Warhol. There were fabric samples, videos, stories, dresses made out of the fabric from the relevant eras, women bending Maisie’s ear saying when I was your age I would have loved a dress like that and a decent cafe. All happy. 

Still life with jug

We head off in a Tate Modern direction. I’d located a Sushi bar which looked fun. What’s this? Closed! Pah. We are hungry and choose the restaurant opposite which looks OK. Trendy with trendy prices but very acceptable, even provided a still life should you wish to sketch at the table. We didn’t. 

Cy Twombley 'Untitled'

After a bit of stamping around the Tate, catching up with old favourites...it's cut out time. "Henri Matisse The Cut Outs" Along with hoards of others we are filed into the exhibition. We met up with my cousin and all together we vaguely manage to translate some of the accompanying text to his artist's book 'Jazz'. We are in awe of Matisse's cutting out skills and loved the video of him pointing with a large stick at his art work. Assistants then dutifully pinned the scrap of paper to the wall as directed, all under his watchful eye. I want to do that! I wonder if child would be amenable to being my assistant? Moving on...I really appreciated seeing images only previously seen in reproductions. I loved seeing the holes left by the drawing pins, the imperfections in the paper and the scale of the work. Cut outs - far out!

How much more stamping around can we do? Not much. Weary day trippers head back to the train, back to home and to bed. We didn't see the queen but we had a right royal time. 

Every one was taking this shot...so I did.