table of elements

My boy builds coffins. Not really, that's Florence's boy.

Mine builds tables, sinks and other cool stuff. Check out his website.

Table of Elements is a design of his up for voting at stylefactory at the moment. 

The way it works is you click on "Make it" and, should he get enough votes, his table goes into production. How very bloody exciting is that. I shall tell you how: very.

You have to create an account, i.e. giving an e-mail address, but they do not spam, it is just to avoid bots, etc. 

 

Only six days left to vote. I am not good at pushing and that is why it has taken me forever to post about it here. I did not want this blog to turn into a promotional site plus there is the whole privacy thing too...

But, you know what. Sod all that. His table is bloody fab. If I do not support it, who will, ei?

The second and third pics are the prototype he has been using for months at his place. I have eaten, written and read the paper on that table and it is a fine piece of furniture. The simplicity of it is just great. I want one.

So, lovely people of the Interwebs. Would you help him get it made? Muchas gracias.

You can read more about the specifics in the links I am providing you with at the end.
The table is a very green design, assembly is easy, has been cut out of a single sheet of mdf and is very affordable. What else can you wish for.

Link extravaganza: voting at stylefactory, designer bio at stylefactory, his own website and the articles/features at designspotter and plusmood.

little vending doors full of fried goods (bads?) - hooray cv

FEBO is an institution in Amsterdam. I don't think I had ever eaten anything from there (believe it or not, in all these years) until this last weekend. However, I've always wanted to go for a photo session (a better one than this telephoto shoot above, that is) 'cos I find the concept fascinating. You stick a couple of euro in the slot and get a kroket, frikandel, cheese soufflé, burger or similar fried snack. You name it, it's there. De FEBO is the King of the Fast Food Automat in The Netherlands (I've just read there are 54 in the country and 22 of them in Amsterdam alone. 22!)

But this Easter w-end the opportunity suddenly arose. My mate E, visiting from London, and I were roaming around China Town and the old area (mainly trying to stay dry 'cos the weather was crap), when she mentioned she was a bit peckish. It was hours before we were to meet the rest of our party for dinner and brunch seemed a very remote memory indeed. I started thinking where we could go for an early evening snack when... Bingo! It hit me there was a FEBO bang in the middle of the Red Light District, just a few dingy and cobbled streets away. Perfect tourist attraction too.
Knowing my mate I was sure she'd totally love the tackiness of it. She did. You just don't get to open a little window on the wall and get a croquette out of it that very often, do you now?

Anyway, the first pics are rubbish as I was trying to capture the hand of the man filling the little compartments but he was too quick and I missed every time. What a job, ei (his, not mine.) I love the second shot, though. Us in the street, burning our tongues and holding our respective croquettes in all their glory; amidst tourists and prostitutes, during a dry spell on one of the wettest days ever. Hooray.

And hooray is exactly what I thought when I read this week's cv theme. How very convenient. Hooray, hooray and hooray again. Go, go, visit them all and check for new players on Jane's sidebar (it'll take you at least a couple of days, I'm telling you.) 
Oh yeah, and this was jyg's choice and I cannot wait to see what she comes up with. I can envisage lots of cool and shiny Japanese stuff.

rock birds

How I'd love to be able to visit The Barbican right now. How I'd love to be able to visit The Barbican on a regular basis. Full stop. It's been too long.
E, I'm definitely coming over soon. Alain and the Barbi it is, lurve. One for you and one for me. Deal?

Click here for more on this commission for The Curve by Céleste Boursier-Mougenot.
Fact: Apparently the number of hits on this youtube video has been near half million in four weeks! Original I'm not, it seems.

once upon a time, there was this wee ninja...

...who came tucked in a assorted b-day pack from this missy here.
Even though this wee one immediately became a cherished possession, I was yet to find a function for this little ninja (it has been hanging prominently on the studio wall but other than that, nada). Now, it's finally found its hiding place (very skilfully making itself invisible in a totally accomplished ninja manner... not) on the banner up there. Where is that ninja? Where is it, indeed?

Beware. Master of the stealth hug too. Kua-chaaiiiiiiii, d'woooooooo!!!

ninjas vs luchadores

Fab design by Michael Valadares Ferreira.

Unfortunately, the tee seems to be sold-out.
It would have been the perfect pressie for my Mexican friend G. I actually think I can see her behind that red mask brandishing a cactus as weapon.
I would, most probably, be the ninja sitting on the floor, totally knackered, hyperventilating and being climbed on by a dozen or so enmascarados.

nice one, buster!

I had totally forgotten all about summery outdoors cinema screenings. But, of course, it IS the summer and they are starting to pop up all over the city like every year.

Friends tipped us about "The General", a 1926 Buster Keaton film showing last Friday and it sounded like a plan... It definitely was. Fabulous comedic rhythm, old-fashioned (yet not that dated) plot, beautiful photography... Not to forget, a bunch of adults giggling (snorting with laughter on occasion) outside on a summer evening.

This are a few sneakily-taken shots of the massive inflatable screen. The first one against the summer sky above the park with the moon in the background (left, far, far away).

Note: The quality of the pics is rather drab 'cos I was trying to be inconspicuous and to not annoy other people with the glow of my camera (that's my excuse anyway).
Can you actually believe that silly mark on my feet, though? I reckon I tanned like that (by accident) two summers ago and I still haven't managed to get rid of it. They look pretty manky. They were not.

righting a wrong

It has been brought to my attention that what was shown on this here post was not accurate. It seems someone knocked the composition while cleaning (which clearly rules me out, then) and it should have looked like this: the Pedrera perfectly perched atop the Sagrada Familia.

But of course. How very silly of me.

All right, now it's when I think I can hear Gaudí turning in his grave.

corner view: best-kept secret

Okay, this is not really a best-kept secret at all, as apparently everyone seems to know perry it's THE summer drink in LDN. However, I've just been there for a couple of days visiting friends and, not knowing it was THE summer drink over there and never having tried it before, I have to say I was more than pleasantly surprised by it.

My friend E introduced me to this sweet nectar upon arrival (pictures taken at their kitchen). Immediately, the next evening, at my friend S's farewell do, I knocked down a couple of seriously scrumptious organic ones.
Normally I am a bit of a bitter lass, so I find it ,quite funny to acquaint myself with this drink while bidding farewell to the lovely bird who introduced me to cider so many years ago. I remember my first night out as a fresher at uni. Being a foreigner and all, I asked S what I should be drinking and she bought me a pint of sweet cider! Oh my word... Bright orange, sickly sweet, sticky vile stuff. Luckily, but not before nursing a pretty bad hangover, I started my quest for a better kind of tipple as well as for better booze experts (sorry pet!). Before long, I started drinking either Broon or Scotch, or whatever was on offer at the Student Union, to be perfectly honest.
I was a poor student. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

Either way, pear cider, my friends.
Definitely a sort-of-well-kept-secret-kinda-affair!

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
This was my first corner view and I'm aware it's a bit of a crappy secret.
That and that I ramble. I always ramble. Lots.

For more and probably much darker and/or funnier best-kept secrets, please click (below) on the names of all those corner-viewers scattered around the world.

Cheers to Jane, brains behind the idea, hostess and motivator extraordinaire (she had me joining a group, so hey, bottoms up!)

jane, ladybug-zen, ian, bonnie, esti, sophie, cele, modsquad, caitlin, joyce, ani, kim, a day that is dessert, natsumi, epe, kaylovesvintage, trinsch, c.t., jeannette, outi, ritva, francesca, state of bliss, jennifer, dana, denise, cabrizette, bohemia girl, dianna, isabelle, amber, a girl in the yellow shoes, mister e, janis, kari, jgy, skymring, elizabeth, audrey, allison, lise, cate, victoria, crescent moon, erin, otli, ida, caroline, lisa, dorte, kimmie, la lune dans le ciel, nicola, malo, vanessa, britta, april, b, kyndale samantha, karen, kristina, dorit, goldensunfamily, sophie, janet, mcgillicutty, desiree, travelingmama, aimee, sunnymama, amanda, ali, jenell, britta, juanita, pamela, inna, daan, myrtille, cris, ibb, susi, jodi, lily, gillian, athena, pienduzz, latisha, clairette, kelleyn, iris, demara, mus, ninja, guusje, di, sammi

fancy leaving two architects...

...alone with a bottle of whisky for the night.
Look what happened to Barcelona.

Gaudí and Van der Rohe would not be impressed. Or would they?

Note: Muji's Barcelona In A Bag

where is that ninja, indeed?

Off to LDN for a couple of days and this ninja cannot wait.
I shall be saying farewell to a very close friend, staying over and catching up with another lovely one and even meeting a blogger whose stories make me laugh more often than not (and whom I suspect to be rather lovely in person too).
Sad, exciting, fun. Mixed feelings, ahoy. Bollex!

Cut-out London poster from famille summerbelle (minus the silly marks of my base camps for the w-end, that is.)

a whole new (foot)ball game

¡¡Las pelotas, Cli Cli, las pelotas!!

A few weeks ago I read in passing on a networking site (still believe them to be potentially harmful when not used well) that ex-colleague and creative bird C was asking whether anyone had any punctured balls (!!) lying about. As you do.

When I inquired further she explained she'd gotten inspiration while visiting a jewellery fair and wanted to have a go at making something using old leather footballs herself. Her usual tactic seems to be just popping by her local football club and begging for any balls that are kaput. She also mentioned that they are rather drab, your traditional black and white sort.

At that moment, I thought to myself: "I may know just the person"; a certain someone who works at a small creative agency, outside the city centre, where they play footie during their lunch break. I asked him and, hey presto, colourful balls ahoy!

Miss C has been dying to get her hands on them and was dead excited to hear there was a pink one too! I, myself, find the golden one particularly gorgeous.

Right, Cli Cli, I know you are away on a long weekend and will not read this until you are back. Just wanted to let you know the hand-over has been successful. The ball is rolling. I've passed them on so that you can collect "las pelotitas" next weekend. Hooray!

Cannot wait to see what you create this time!

I love the jewellery C makes with recycled materials. I am the proud owner of one of her bicycle-tyre necklaces. You can visit her at kklak.

Note: Many thanks to the unofficial football supplier, much appreciated (nogmaals bedankt, hoor!) and to the selfless messenger-lady M (¡muchas gracias a ti también, eh, salerosa!).

losing a button: a basket case & lots of flowers

Boo hoo! I lost the middle button of my left shoe yesterday.

I know it happened during my cycle to work in the morning. I decided not to use my new bike basket (it makes the bike rattle and I was told this weekend that cycling like that was a bit silly and dangerous, oops!). Therefore, I kept my (too heavy) bag hanging from the left handlebar. I'm sure that's what knocked the button off the shoe as I remember the bag hitting me a couple of times.

On my way back home I kept my eyes peeled in a vain attempt to spot it on the road somewhere (nine hours later, wishful bloody thinking!) or somewhere amidst the grass in the park. I am a fool, I know, but stranger things have happened.

Well, this may just be the perfect opportunity to put into practice my soon-to-be-acquired sewing skills. My born-organiser-good-at-bringing-people-together friend, Ms. Thang M, has convinced a bunch of us to enrol in an all-day sewing workshop next month. I'd been thinking about doing something on that line myself forever so I jumped at the (perfect) chance.

I have attempted the odd stint at needle holding in the past (mainly brooches and the odd accessory on a top) but I tend to be slothful by nature so this will give me the much needed kick on the old butt to get going.

Every cloud has a silver lining, right? New buttons on not-so-new (and a bit knackered but much loved) shoes is as good a start as any!

And now for something completely different. These are the beautiful flowers we got our friends M & W, who had us over for dinner on Saturday. I also got myself some (even though I already had some red tulips at home) as they were gorgeous. Couldn't resist them (not only am I slothful, but also envious by nature).

We were extremely late (and I don't mean fashionably late, I mean nearing rude late...) but we had pretty flowers with us... af if!

And here's a quick snap (mobile photo in more than one way) of the two-wheeled flower bearer.

bad polka dot, bad!

Bag Girl Polka Dot is the real title this pretty print goes by. I immediately took to it visually but it really made me giggle too, not only due to its delightful quirkiness but basically 'cos I misread the title. (I hope the artist doesn't mind... As if anyone ever read this! Ha!)

Polka Dot is the nickname of sorts (or rather, battle name) my mate
E got after a rather interesting (for lack of a better word) and rascally night in London a couple of years ago. It started both because she was wearing a fab red & white polka dot dress but also because she had a namesake in our little gang and no-one knew which E we were referring to. (To be perfectly honest, at one point none of us really knew what in sweet baby jay jay's name we were talking about, let alone whom we were talking to).

The thing is that when I first saw the print this morning I mistakenly read Bad Girl Polka Dot (dyslexia? Freudian slip of da mind?) and immediately thought of sending it to E. Bad Polka Dot. Bad, very bad girl!!

Ai, nena, ho he pogut evitar. M'ha fet somriure aquest matí i ho havia de posar aquí! ; ) Potser una idea pel teu cumple?

la petite (full of snot) apprentie domestique

This is how my day off started last Friday. Eggs for breakfast using my new-ish curvy timer, which I wish worked as finely as it looks. Unfortunately, it is a bit useless at telling time, which is basically its only job. So, pretty as you are, you little Barbapapa of a timer, you are going back to the shop.

So, that was Friday. I potted and faffed about the house in the morning (I'm a big fan of lazying about in my pjs, reading the paper, that sort of thing), went out to do some errands and just enjoyed a very chilled and needed day off. I was already starting to feel a bit bleh but kind of ignored it. On Saturday, it sort of started to transpire I was really not 100%. (To be honest, I had been stifling it for a week; the weather had taken a maniacal and evil turn and gone back to Autumn behaviour, and it had been dead busy at work. However, I had just chosen to ignore all those signs and believe the blehness would simply go away at some point.)

It didn't. I'm now home nursing the last remnants of a bad cold/flu. [When does it actually start being The Flu and stop being a common cold? I very rarely have (what is considered) a temperature but still suffer the rest of the symptoms. Flu or no flu, "ça c'est la question"! Anyhoo... I ramble (fact!).] I'm still coughing my lungs out but seem to have slept an itsy bitsy (teeny weeny) bit better than the last few nights (probably something to do with that cough syrup, which should probably be listed under soft drugs; it knocked me out, like!) so things are looking up!

As you may have read, I had the brilliant idea of roasting a huge pollo on Saturday. I was still in denial about how crappy I was feeling so, to my amazement, it turned out well-roasted and well-tasty (was a good quality organic specimen, that chick). So, apart from a couple of tense expletive-laden moments in the kitchen and virtually managing to kill all vitamins in the "steamed" broccoli (I did manage to forget about the boiling water under the steamer and ended up with a beautifully charcoaled bottom of the pan) it probably can, all in all, be considered a success! There's a carcass in that fridge I need to sort out, though. Let's see how I feel in a while when my body follows my brain and starts functioning too.

So, should I achieve the purpose of actually getting my arse in gear, I might have a go at the scone recipe colleague and food-nut D passed on a few months ago. One morning, there was a small package waiting for me atop my keyboard at work; it was the cream of tartar bottle pictured left. Having had a go at making scones that had come out a bit flat (to say the least, they looked like plain biscuits), she recommended Nigella's recipe (her again! the feud continues!) and, a few weeks later, she even got me this, the alleged key ingredient. She's a star. I've made much better scones since (not opening the oven half way through the process is, apparently, a must... d'oh!) but I'm curious about this recipe now.

That reminds me I have yet to crack open this beautiful tin too. Another gift from another lovely friend and colleague, who brought it back from her last visit home. I love the old-fashioned design of the tin but, when I asked her what I could use it for, she looked at me in disbelief (another one) and, with a shake of the head, replied that most traditional Spanish dishes call for it. Ahem!

For the first twenty-odd years of my life (before I left the country to go and study abroad and never made it back) I never really showed any interest in cooking or any other domestic activity and I reckon this applies to most of my mates from home. It's a sign of our generation, really: trying to break with the traditional role of the woman, blah, blah, blah, shan't get into it here or now. We're all (just) starting to pick it up now (and, as I've mentioned here before, we're all on the very wrong side of thirty). Right, pimentón dulce, then. A new challenge, ei! They really want me to cook that lot, don't they?

Thank you, chicas, and, yes, I know I owe you a post on Súper López. I just don't quite yet feel I have my wits about me to try and be (well, if you'll excuse the repetition) witty. As if...

It's all domesticated ninja here lately, I'm afraid.
That and some serious snot! : )

of chicks, lemons, friends, mottos and the flu

To my friend's disbelief and horror I'm roasting my first ever chicken today. M (who is basically a pro) couldn't believe that being on the wrong side of 30 (so far into it I'm nearly coming out the other side), I have never roasted one before. Well, hun, I've always had other stuff to do plus it's never too late to start, right? Right! The whole place stinks of shallots, now let's get some citruses up that bird's derrière!

And... speaking of lemons, I bought the fab print below at the end of last year but had not yet gotten off my backside and round to buying a frame for it. Silly really, but that's the way things go around here sometimes. I got a simple black frame last weekend and this baby's finally made it up on the wall. My new motto:

The tulips were brought by above-mentioned friend together with croissants & pains du chocolat. She phoned from my local market to see whether I wanted to go for a coffee but I was still in my pjs and feeling rather bleh (bit flu-ish and under the weather this week). Instead, she came round with goodies to cheer me up. Bless!! She's actually a bit of a nutter but... bless!! Gracias mamma, it really did the trick! ; )

So, basically, it seems I'm now well on my way to becoming both domestic goddess and everyday philosopher... Tremble Nigella and tremble Alain (no offence E, darling, I know you've got a massive crush on him)!

However, as I cannot possibly acquire every print I fancy, I'm printing out the one below (the author himself is OK with that as long as it's not used for commercial purposes). I really like the take on the original WW II Keep Calm and Carry On British propaganda poster to be found everywhere nowadays (as well as many a spoof based on it) but what I love the most is the new proletarian crown! Another great motto!!

I'm getting excited about making roast chicken, does that count?

really taken a shine to my new friend here!

Hello gorgeous!! The story goes thus: I bought myself a very similar bracelet, probably three years ago now, at Camden Market in London, after getting off the tube at Chalk Farm just because we liked the name (and wondering whether, in the past, one could actually grow chalk and whether it would sprout in furrows in the ground or hang from trees ready to be picked; would it later be processed and bleached or was organic chalk white by nature?) running down Primrose Hill and having great day out with the lovely Miss P.
It was silver and beautiful, made of leather but painted/sprayed in a way it made it look metallic. I loved it. However, I lost it. In Málaga. Last year. Somewhere between leaving the bags at the hostel, going out for a bite and coming back. No idea how, when or where. Only thing is it was nowhere to be found the next morning. I was gutted. (I know, it sounds all very melodramatic and superficial but some things you're just very fond of and I don't lose stuff often.)

When I mentioned it to lovely E (who happens to live in London as well), she offered to go to Camden and get me another one. I had forgotten all about it when I got this jiffy bag in the mail (containing said bracelet + silly card) two weeks ago. It really made my day! Not only 'cos I am again the proud owner of a beautiful and shiny bracelet (this time a warmer, brassier shade), but because I love all kinds of epistolary exchanges. I'm sure I've mentioned it here before but it really makes me happy sending my friends cards and little knick knacks in the post. I really miss that a lot and I find the whole electronic correspondence (let alone all that social networking malarkey) has killed the snail mail star!
It makes me go a bit postal... sometimes! ; )

De veritat, em va fer molta ilu, però ja ho saps tu això, oi?

Merci, Polka Dot E! :)

under my (onion)skin

Nearly forgot to add this publication to the oniony theme of late.

I got acquainted with it some time ago via the same lovely, if slightly off her head, friend who kindly sent me the little onions necklace featured a few posts below!

She hadn't quite sussed out the real nature of the paper when she sent me the link. Apparently, she just thought of me and my wee nickname when she came across it online. Talk about obsessions... Ahem!
Me, I love its random fakeness. ¡¡Gracias, guapa!!

fingers crossed...

This is the b-day card (of sorts) I've just posted for a good friend back home. I'm a sucker for these quasi-retro prints!

She's moved house recently and I didn't have her new address so I looked her up on the white pages but, just in case, decided to give google maps a go too. (Yes, people at google, free advertising, not that you need any!!! Am I getting any free gadgets/widgets/whatever you call 'em in exchange? Nah, didn't think so!) Anyway, the swimming pool I saw on the satellite image looked familiar (I've only been in their new apartment once and yes, they have a swimming pool where they live! Some people, I know!) so... fingers crossed this is getting to the right place and on time (but in case it doesn't: "Moltes felicitats, reina!")

It's freezing cold out there, by the way. Just went out to do a couple of errands and post the card but no-one's getting me out of the house again today, I will resist any advances! (Unless, of course, they forcibly hoist me out with the help of a crane, that could possibly work...)

Note: Postcard by bizarrverlag.com

sweets for my sweets...

A couple of piccies of the biscuits I (me, me, little me!!) made for a friend on her b-day in December! It was my first time ever making biccies but I think she liked them (even though they were far from perfect, I sort of wrecked half of them (of the ones that weren't already too burnt, that is) on the way there on the bike, and I was pretty late for our lunch date! Oh yeah, I also ended up covered in flour, the kitchen looked like a disaster area and I probably hadn't sworn that much in days, and I am pretty consistent at that!) Raaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa.... Okay, not quite your Domestic Goddess yet, Nige, but beware of la ninja!!! :)

A few days later, another December b-day celebration (I hadn't made anyone blow candle(s) on a cake for ages!) with another lovely friend. It was defo a sweet month, this last December!

This is also one (too) sweet post, but hey, I reckon it's the influence of all this food-blogging lark, I blame you all!

knowing one's onions...

A few years ago, whilst a student living in the UK (ahem, let's re-phrase: many years ago, whilst a student living in the UK), my adorable yet bonkers friend E sent me this on the mail.
It came on a brown leather string (I seem to remember) and it is one of la ninja's old nicknames, born years ago playing around with the letters of yet another previous nickname. Either way, hilarious as it was I don't think I ever wore it or, at least, I never did in public. (Okay, if you are reading, E, just imagine yourself walking around a small Spanish town wearing a necklace reading "CEBOLLAS" hanging from your neck... Nah, it just doesn't work, too much attention-seeking and not necessarily of the right kind!). The hilarity of it all didn't go unnoticed by my flatmates but that's as far as it went, I decided not to share it with the rest of the world.

However, a couple of weeks ago, during the Xmas break I found the loose letters inside a little tin box in my old bedroom at my parents' apartment so I took them with me. I have just strung them (rather rudimentary) through a simple black thread and they are now hanging on the cork board in the hallway. I still know my onions, me!