Handmade Renegade

So, moving on from the emotional sideswipe of the Queen's visit to Ireland...

Last weekend, the Renegade Craft Fair came to Brooklyn.  How exciting!  This is a fair that moves around the country, only coming to Brooklyn once a year (though I think they might also do a special Christmas fair as well).  So, I've been excited for weeks about this, and imagined all sorts of goodies to buy.  And it had been hot as a furnace all week, so I thought if anything it would be too uncomfortably hot for a stroll around.  In fact, I covered the market at a sprint because it rained.  Not the kind of rain where you simply can't justify venturing out, but the kind of drizzly rain, where you convince yourself that it's just about to stop and you end up damp and cold for your effort.  That kind of rain.  We sat in a cafe nearby for ages and nearly went home.  But I could hear the stalls across the park calling to me, and in the end I convinced myself that it wouldn't be fair to all those poor people who'd made the effort if I disappeared off home.  I probably didn't do it justice.  Each stall had about five seconds as I rushed by to attract me with its wares, and I have to say most didn't.  But I still managed to come away with a few treats.

Now, I will admit in advance that I am clearly going through some kind of escapist second childhood thing, because none of my purchases are exactly sophisticated.  But they all make me smile, and right now, that's important.  So, here goes....

An owl, called Severine (though not by me) made of recycled jumpers.   Wonky and cute and the kind of thing I should give to a baby.  If I had a baby.  Or indeed knew anyone with a baby...

 My new favourite mug, because it feels so good with a pot belly in my hands, because it's white on the inside (I don't like mugs where the tea goes a funny colour because the inside of the cup turns it green/pink/anythingotherthanteacoloured).  And because it's got an owl on (I'm having an owl moment.)

But my favourite thing of all, and the most daft by a mile, are these:

Aren't they just the business!  I've never seen a russian doll set anything like this.  And every one of them makes me laugh out loud.  I mean who could resist?

A chicklet with an Elvis coif!

Genius!

They now live on a bookshelf in the hall area between the living room and the hall to the bedroom.  I pass them at least a dozen times a day.  And they crack me up.  They all have that expression of "how the hell did we get here!?", and I have to say I sympathise.  They are clustered in front of some pretty heavy-weight books because, after all, I am a Serious Person, with a Serious Job.  But right now, I'd rather me playing with russian dolls....

Mr. P. has decided that I have clearly lost the plot.

C.x