Hidden Treasure Chest in Maidstone

Cakes forks and plate

Off Week Street, hiding down a alley is a new vintage/secondhand shop. They sell all sorts of beautiful things: vintage cutlery, china, clothes coats and bags, jewllery...and well all sorts of lovely things. Upstairs, they have furniture. Nothing ancient but I did see a lovely iron hat stand which unfortunately I would not have been able to carry back home. The lady who works there is very nice and told me they get new stuff in every work so it's worth returning regularly as the nice things go quickly.


It's not on the main street and the only clue to its existence is a 'trash or treasure?' chalk board directing you down the alley.

Worth a visit if you're in Maidstone and like the whole old-fashioned/vintage thing. Or if you just want something beautiful but the money tree in your backgarden isn't faring so well this year.

A lovely relative, who likes tea and cakes,  had a birthday coming up so I paid the shop a visit to see if they had anything that would make a present for her. I actually had to make a short list but finally settled on a plate and some cake forks which looked like this!:

Not made in China!

Cake forks

Happy Birthday Harriet!

Showers and shell seeking in Whitstable

A premature autumnal coolness and unexpected (and unwelcome) rain showers made today's trip to Whitstable very different to the warm golden sunsets and ice creams of previous September trips here. On the plus side the chips were, once again, amazing. Soggy with onion vinegar and gritty from numerous zealous shakes of the salt jar-just how I like them. Post-chips and in need of sugar, we zigzagged, via eaves and other makeshift rain shelters, to the coffee and donut stand and I ate a hot donut.

There was a melacholic air to Whitstable today. Perhaps it was the oppressive cloud cover and 'end of tourist season' weariness which hung over the town. The yacht masts whistled and jingled eerily in the gusts of wind and the sea looked murky and uninviting. The hand towel I brought to dry my feet should the urge to paddle take me stayed in my bag. We whiled away most of the time in the quirky shops which populate the main street and found some interesting things. I got some lovely fabric and cheap thread in a haberdashery opposite the chip shop.

There is a plan for this fabric which will come up on the blog at a later date.

My hunt for a secondhand teapot continues but the secondhand shops in Whitstable proved fruitless. As a consolation I did found a little glass bottle to keep my rosewater in. There are few things I like more than beautiful glass and it is only my lack of funds this month that prevented me from buying every glass vase, dish, decanter and bowl I found today. You can't beat secondhand shops for glass items. (unless you like things to match of course-secondhand shops are not for those who like matching sets!)

When the showers ended we headed to the beach (via the old fashioned sweet shop where we stocked up on fudge, sarsaparilla and aniseed boiled sticks and fizzy strawberry tubes) and walked up to the Old Neptune for a lemon and lime. The pub was warm and spellt of damp people who'd got caught in the rain too. I envisaged sitting in there in the winter and felt cheered. The rain considerately started (again) while we drank her drinks and stopped for an interlude when we left. We went shell seeking on the way back and found a nice selection of shells which I have plans for once I've found some waterproof glue (the end results will doubtless be blogged about here). The hunt culminated in 'stealing' two of Whitstable's famous oyster shells from the little mountain of them ("please do not take") near the yachts. They're quite pretty and could be made into something useful I think with a little imagination (and some strong, waterproof glue. I really must buy this glue).

The sky looked beautiful as we left. Some rays escaped through the clouds and the sea shimmered. I bet we missed a lovely Whitstable sunset.

Underaged Lavender Water Fan

For me, few things are more evocative of summer than the rich, spicy scent of lavender. Lavender water sits side-by-side with toothpaste and conditioner on my toiletries list as a mandatory item for my dressing table.

Without a vast income I have always settled for Boots' own lavender water. That suited me fine. It is a pleasing purple colour, smells not too strongly of chemicals and resided in a reassuringly heavy glass bottle.  The price increased over the years and more often than not, I needed a note rather than a few coins to make my purchase. I willingly coughed up-lavender water is vital to my well being. Then one day I made a lunchtime trip to Boots armed with a small list, lavender water sitting proudly at the top. I bent down to pick it up from its usual place on the shelf (always the bottom one; I suspect the only other lavender water enthusiasts are ladies in their seventies)...it looked different...the bottle was more cylindrical, they must have changed the shape of the bottle. As I grasped the bottle, it left the shelf with an unfamiliar cheap, lightness. Plastic! They'd replaced the glass bottle with an inferior plastic one. I put the bottle back and refused to buy it. Sometimes you just have to make a stand, against all reason and rationality.

I know I am probably being stubborn for the sake of stubbornness but as far as I'm concerned something as refined and beautiful as lavender water should never, ever be sold in a cheap plastic bottle.

I switched to lavender essential oil but we didn't get along as well. I never mastered the art of scattering a restrained few drops, instead preferring to sprinkle it liberally like my old friend lavender water. No wonder I usually sleep so well, I was probably knocked out. I decided that buying the water in the plastic bottle and decanting it into a glass bottle wasn't cheating too much. In fact, I feel somehow as if I'm rescuing the water from a sordid life in plastic. After a few failed bids on eBay for perfume bottles, I visited a shop called Merchant Chandler in Maidstone, which sells an eclectic mix of home ware. Almost straight away I spied a little collection of glass decanters and a favourite was immediately apparent.

I've carefully poured 400ml of lavender water into my new glassware and gleefully added a sprig of my dad's homegrown lavender.

Sometimes paltry, unimportant things are just important.

The sprig floating romantically

My dad's lavender







Merchant Chandler's website