chickens, wordlessness, pictures and bridesmaids.

A piece of chicken I ill-advisedly ate in Canberra has left me drained of words (and euphemisms). Instead, here are the pictures from July’s Issue of Country Style magazine, shot at the house.  Do you think the model looks a smidge grumpy?  They all seem to. Maybe it’s the dust and dirt and Hanging Ceilings of Babylon what does it.

The picture above was taken in what I HOPE will be the top floor bathroom.  I’m presently looking for baths anyway.  With my fingers crossed.

Taken (above) on the top floor landing.  That bunch of fake yellow orchids seems to have insinuated itself into most of the pictures.  Its friend was a birdless birdcage but that seems to have got lost. 

 On the stairs in front of the jungle lav.


Sometimes I feel destined for life as an eternal bridesmaid. You know, sidekick to the fab and the glam.

A while back I took my Linn Sondek into an audio shop for repair, and from the excited attention it received from the staff you’d have thought I’d taken in an ageing star of the silver screen.  It happens when I walk Remington, who also draws crowds like a (very unassuming) minor celebrity.  And recently we got a letter from a journalist on the Sydney Morning Herald, wondering whether we’d be willing to do a series of articles about our journey with the house. We would, I think.

Actually all the talk of bridesmaidism is disingenuous because I hate to the be the centre of attention.  To the point where, submitting to my mother’s desire for pictorial news when we moved here from London,  I used to don a vast feather hat for the videotapes.  I know, something I should have taken to my training analyst. So anyway, when we received a call from Grand Designs a while back, my heart skipped a fretful beat. Mr Pimp contacted them way back when, in the first flush of enthusiasm after the auction.  We didn’t hear and we didnt hear and we didn’t hear a bit more, and assumed they were not interested.  Then we forgot about them completely. Mr P is still keen, and Ms P is keen, which is fine, but they’re not HERE (or won’t be) and so it would be me left to rabbit on in front of the camera. Anathema!  Could I fish out my feather hat again, maybe?  A veil?

Remington is, as you can see, terribly excited by it all.

11 Responses to “chickens, wordlessness, pictures and bridesmaids.”

  1. Margaret Bishop Says:

    I had been thinking that the P family would make a great group portrait painting in the fine English tradition. A big photograph would also work well but I like the idea of including “the hounds” and “the house” and “the patures”. Not so sure about the cattle, maybe they could be off in the distance.

    I also fancy an article in one of the glossy supplements – such as BRW. I do hope there is some room for pictures of you and the house. Hopefully some professional make up can be donated your way. I used to find that wearing a mask or a large hooded cloak was enough to help me hide behind and play out a witch. Maybe that’s not a helpful comment.

    As Mr P is off to the salt mines – which in itself is another subject which might expand the blog into the history of trade between here and the east. I do hope he finds items for the house in his travels.


    • Hoots of laughter at the suggestion of masks and such. Something from the Commedia dell Arte could work.

      And as for trade with the East – Mr Pimp’s antecedents were, before Spore and Malaysia, based in China, and he tells me they smuggled tea in one direction, opium in the other. Of course, he might be romancing. I can’t say I’m especially interested in either of those commodities – I’m thinking more furniture, hand painted Chinese silk wallpaper…

  2. sue from sydney Says:

    Next you’ll be telling us you’ve had an offer from 60 Minutes, and I’m still trying to get my head around ” disingenuous bridesmaidism”

    PS: Want to sell the dog ?

    • Yes I know! I must admit to being a bit bemused by it all, but happy to go along for the ride.

      And if I said disingenuous bridesmaidism, I hang my head in shame.

      As for Mr Smoochypants – I couldn’t sell him but I would, at times, consider loaning him. You know – when he steals shoes, or chicken. Or when I have to go to Spore.

  3. Being currently lost to the world of paint and possibilities, our eyes were drawn to the copperas backdrop – maybe a cape draped casually – to your first Photoshoot and we still dream of chinese wallpaper.

    Remy could make any cover with that shot – do you have one with him and his farm house haunt?

  4. Baby Pimpette Says:

    oi! i took that foto of bog xx

  5. You go, girl. we love it when the house is employed! we had a house in Pasadena, California…..steadily employed….and she got all the money she made spent on her! Heavenly!

    then we sold her and duplicated her floor plan in Santa Barbara, Ca.

    (that is where you can go to heaven BEFORE you die!) that was 14 years ago! Now I am ready to move on! another project!


    I might be tagged as “spam” I have undone a lot of those!

    • Hello Penelope!

      That’s the place you’re moving to, or from?

      Because in either case – blimey!

      I think it’s time for you to get a blog, so we (I) can watch.

    • Hi Penelope
      I took some time to go and have a proper look at your house – so much that I love! Most especially the vine gates and the indoor/outdoor room. Miss P has been voting for a bit of parthenosissus quinquefolia up the ugly back brick extension block of the house and yours inspires me to give it space. I’d love it indoors too, but that would send Heritage into conniptions. I don’t know how you can tear yourself away from your house but I do absolutely understand the need for new challenges. Whatever you do, it will be brilliant.

  6. I forgot to say….Remington is divine.

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