A Shop on Wheels

Great photo and an interesting little piece. Caulis the size of footballs!

The Dangerously Truthful Diary of a Sicilian Housewife

Do you like this Sicilian Greengrocers? If you look carefully, you can see its wheels.

His weighing scales are hanging off the brake light. They hold them up with one hand and slide the ball weight along a metal bar to get the weight of your fruit and veg.

if you query the sweetness of their merchandise, they will instantly chop a fruit in half and force you to eat it on the spot to prove its quality.

These mobile greengrocers can be seen everywhere in Sicily. I have been meaning to photograph one for ages, but was beaten to it by my friend Brita. Thanks for the picture, B!


View original post

Sometimes it just happens…

Sometimes it just happens...

There I was looking at an idea for a little job I do regularly and for no apparent reason came up with a couple of dancers, this is a detail of the drawing.It’s the sort of drawing that some years ago I might have spent an enjoyable few hours working up, redrawing and then presenting on a fine piece of board as the ‘final’. With modern technology there is always no final. One can be faffing about for hours but the restricted budgets mean that one cannot afford to.

Finely balanced with good quality socks.

HolidayhorrorWe British know how to holiday, get yourself a half decent camera and a strong strap to hang it around your sunburnt neck, decent back pack with spares for the camera and a sausage roll to keep your energy level at the max and venture forth. Strong sturdy sun hat that you’ve had for several summers and has seen action on cricket grounds around the country and then get out there. Oh and don’t forget the regulation black socks to go with a decent pair of brogues, it might be hot out there but that’s no excuse for shoddy footwear.

Wheels on a suitcase, whoever thought of them?

SuitcaseModern inventions are at times just taken for granted.
In the days when travel was glamorous and only the select few could fly or afford to, suitcases were carried and generally not by the traveller. Because this is what they were: travellers and not tourists.
So now we all ‘carry’ our own cases and the result is that someone comes up with the idea of little wheels, so that airports are like shopping malls complete with one’s own trolley.They are also almost all now a regulation size and will have none of those fancy labels stuck on the leather with the names of sleek hotels in Cap d’Antibes.They are also inevitably not leather, nor do they carry a suit.
Instead they may well have attached someone who wears their hat on back to front, shorts with massive pockets, a shirt that looks like a paint tin has exploded on it nearby, leatherette sandals,metalwork within the body ( of the person, not the case ) and on the way back what they call a tan, but is in fact third degree burns.

Holiday fun, version 2. Where’s the string vest then?

bofb seasideweb

Publishing Version 1 resulted in a message about our holidaymakers string vest.I replied that it was, of course, under the very thick shirt that he always wears for his hols. Revelation of same would only occur in the event of temperatures in excess of 80 degrees.Rolling up the trouser and the sturdy shirtsleeve precluded any fancy ideas about wearing shorts.

Ice cream came in one flavour: vanilla, and was normally sandwiched between two very thin layers of what appeared to be very thin insulation board, but was actually called wafer.
My brother had a job selling such ice cream and lollies and was asked by a small child ” How much is a tuppeny lolly?” A born salesman he replied that they were sixpence, it’s no coincidence that he is now an antique dealer.

Holiday fun, would it were so simple!

BofB holidaysHaving just returned from a holiday abroad to a job about how holidays used to be, here’s my rough idea for a piece on British hols.It happened now and again, the sun shone on this country and instead of going pink abroad we managed to go pink on our own shores.Occasionally one could spot a ‘dad’ contentedly bathing his lily-white feet in the almost warm English seas, whilst the recommended protection of a large white knotted hankie kept his head protected from the English rare sunshine. Shorts of course were never worn, what on earth was wrong with just rolling up those strong serge trousers that serve him so well for the rest of the year. In those days no such thing as an ‘active waist’ style trouser. Braces fro comfort and belt just in case. Active waist…for heavens sake!