Oh dear, all of a sudden it's Christmas...

Well, well, well – that didn’t go according to plan! It’s almost four weeks rather than the aimed-for two since I published my last blog post. It’s not that I didn’t have any ideas what to write. Rather the opposite. But – well, the blog comes second to whatever else is going on in my life and I simply didn’t find the time for it. However, I intend to make up for it and publish a few posts “retrospectively”, i.e. fiddling with the publishing date. If you are one of my more loyal readers, hopefully it may be worth scrolling back to check for “missed posts” come mid-January. If only I could fool myself...

Anyway, what I want to say is: I’m still here and as mad about all things “plant” and as keen about writing as ever. And to prove it, here is a small post on the eve of Christmas (I don’t want to ring my own bell, especially after what I just had to confess, but for a mum of two smallish ones who has to actually organize Christmas I hope you appreciate the dedication to you, lovely readers! ;-)  )

Earlier this week I went to Columbia Road with a friend. Every Wednesday evening in December the shops there – many of which normally are only open during trading hours of the famous Columbia Road Flower Market, i.e. Sundays between 8am and 2pm – fling open their doors  until 9 pm to welcome customers keen to hunt for presents away from the usual madness of thronged high streets and shopping centres. The whole experience couldn’t be more different: every small shop lovingly and individually decorated, mulled wine and mince pies or biscuits on offer, carols maybe, a sense of being part of community of “conspirators” or perhaps connoisseurs who know where to go and look.

Present shopping here is actually enjoyable! Not least because you will find so many things that are not “run of the mill”. Only trouble is: you are very likely to find at least as many gifts you’d like for yourself as you will for others. Sure enough, my friend and I were no different. And as wise old Oscar Wilde so sagely said: I can resist anything but temptation…  But, you know, despite pleading with my friend not to tell my man how much I’d spent on myself I actually do not regret the purchases (always a good sign if you still feel that way after three days). Least of all the most expensive one: several stamps.

No, not postage stamps. I’m talking of stamps that would be inked and then printed onto paper – in this case as illustrations in Victorian catalogues. It was a lovely vintage shop, tastefully decorated, with all sorts of bric-a-brac. When my friend found something that piqued here curiosity, I still felt detached enough to remind her asking how much it cost in a nonchalant way so as not to betray her interest and thus perhaps driving the price up. Ten minutes later and I’d completely forgotten my own advice – or rather, I was totally incapable of concealing my excitement.

I first came across several stamps of what could be old wash tubs or big bowls. The metal finely etched, the wood weathered and inscribed with numbers and letters in ancient handwriting, I asked where they came from and what they were used for. The shop owners had picked them up in the Netherlands, they told me, but they were likely produced somewhere else and they served (as mentioned above) to illustrate catalogues. They showed me others and within seconds I felt like a child in a sweet shop: four different cast iron stoves for heating greenhouses or conservatories, each highly ornate; four different types of shovels and spades, ...

I’d never seen anything like it for sale anywhere before and of course I HAD to have them. If anything, the shop owner seemed amused by my excitement and very kindly threw one or two in for free as I couldn’t make up my mind which ones to choose. He may even have given me a discount. I know he not only said so, because the stamps had prices attached to them. Proof, if it was needed, that nonchalance isn’t always the best way to go about such things. Back home, I handed the package over to my man and told him he could put it under the Christmas tree for me. He was kind enough not to ask how much they’d cost and I didn’t tell him. Still, considering that they are a sort of “true antiques”, I believe I didn’t pay over the odds.

Tantalizingly, there is a German address engraved into the wood in some of them – quite possibly the manufacturers. The products depicted however – the stoves, spades etc.  – seem to have a French or Belgian inscription or trade name. So who was F.A. Mueller, Fink Str. 26, Stuttgart ? I’d love to find out more, perhaps uncover the stamps’ story. Can’t wait to unwrap them in a few hours!

Have a very merry Christmas and a great start into the new year, wherever you are!