St Polycarp treasures.

A quick stroll around one of our favourite villages the other day: two previously undiscovered post-mat objects. Ancient concrete washing thing (what are these called?) now full of irises and house leeks.

Wonderful green and rust gate made of lattice metalwork, fence and possibly some parts of an old

ornate day bed.

The future is in a bright green shed.

This is a sensible man.
We need more people like this and we need to stop thinking about our human waste as something that must be removed with vast quantities of water.
My mum says she remembers that her dad used to store 'it' up in a big compost heap and then was well rotted, in it would go into the garden, the veggies and then ultimately back into the members of the family.

Mark (Howie) designer and fabricator of the Ecolette loos, makes, sells and hires them, often used at festivals and other large events.

The 'end result' compost he showed me was like perfect top soil, odourless, and rich looking, just after a few months. Perfect recycling.
Just one of the million things we all have to address after the non-end of the world . . .

Link to Mark's site: http://www.ecolette.net

Everyone must watch this . . .

Simple, engaging explication of how we have got into such a global nightmare of 'stuff'

And the animals went in two by two

I wasn't sure which blog category these should come under.
Art, general life, or Post-mat.
I opted for the last as I think they are just such a perfect example of odd wool usage; also they would survive any form of apocalypse and still be around in the true age of Post-Mat.
A lovely friend brought them round knowing I would wish to photograph, and immortalise them on a blog. She was given them by an elderly lady, whose life mission is to knit. Hot water bottle covers, bed throws, baby clothes and slippers . . .this pair are called Fifi and Mitzi and were, in some previous life,  poodles, skipping on jewelled leads on the Champs Élysées.

coffee cosy

Dual purpose wooly hat. I just rather liked it, sitting on Helen and Malcolm's breakfast table.

Old dog new bed

Poor old Una, we think she must be at least eighteen!! We have banned her from the sofa as she leaves certain . . . smells and sometimes . . . other things — aaahhhh!!

I found this green plastic box/tray/? thingy on the woodpile and with a swift cut of a jigsaw, thank you Ed, and added unwanted cushion and throw, we have a lovely cosy dog bed. Una hasn't tried to get back to the sofa, in fact I wouldn't mind a similar arrangement myself . . .as winter approaches. 

Wall decor

I saw these . . .things in a backstreet in Sigean. Someone did tell me what they originally were for, but I have forgotten. Are they not wondrous Mr Darcy: how much more beautiful villages would be if everyone were so inclined .  . .

Death of a teapot

Not quite . . .our fave teapot from, can't remember which V.G lives again. It's lid knob has been re-glued about eight times, and the superglue cost versus saving teapot equation was no longer valid. two corks and a piece of wire . . .ta dahhh!

Holy holy holy

No big deal, a colander, but I was so pleased to meet it at the last V.G.and then take it home . . . Reminiscent of a B movie space satellite, it makes me feel cheered every time I see it. The fact that it cost fifty cents was even more gratifying.

Yes . . !! vide grenier season for real!

So far they have been a bit drab. Now the cold waether has gone (maybe) there is a new air of delving deeper into forgotten cupboards. This morning's finds: an 'abs improver, this stunning tureen, a pruning knife, two pairs of dangly earings, a book, and a lovely water bottle all for ten euros . . . yeeha.

Take me to the river . . .

To our local source actually. We have been filling bottles at the source for about nine years now. A friend told me the other day about the risks of storing water in plastic bottles . . .no surprise really. So, now we are using mostly old glass ones. These come from Parchemin (recycling heaven store) and furnished with new rubber seals (easy to find in our local supermarche).

Bath water irrigation

New exciting development after the bathwater butt was put in.
Huge length of swimming pool hose (found in the garden) and some other hoses that were knocking around, joined with a length of discarded downpipe, which reach around the house and over the terrace. Turn water butt tap on, and then have fun making little channels and damming them appropriately for each line of plants.
I think Mark is getting worried about water recap obsession chez moi!

Resting place

This is my bike that came from the tip about seven years ago, I upgraded it when I bought a fancy newer one from a Vide Grenier a couple of years back. It has no gears and is monstrous heavy—Jane Austin had one just like it—I took it to the bike shop in town to have its pathetic breaks repaired. I know it just sat there for a week, it was exactly in the same place in their workshop when I went back. He charged me five euros for garage space and I took it squeaking and grinching back home, where it sat sadly, propped up against the back of the house—sadder still when I started riding the new one down to get bread.
I steeled myself to take it back to the tip and then thought maybe it could become a post mat feature of the garden. Had to buy a non P.Mat can of spray paint, but it will be only once.
Now it lives on in its new blue incarnation against a quince bush, giving me happy memories of trips to the market, the bread shop and nearly getting squashed under a articulated truck on that awful junction near the fire station.

Make your own . . .earth!

I made a huge pile of weeds in this spot two years ago as I didn't have the energy for another tip run and it was too wet for a bonfire. When I took a more recent layer of weeds away I discovered, not a lost mosaic or the skeleton of a previous gardener, but . . .lovely loamy soil, really GOOD stuff. This my Post mat stone sifter, which I think was a bottle carrier in its previous existence: we have a circular, smaller holed one somewhere, which will no doubt come to light after a garden clear up.

Waste not 2

This uninteresting photo is of my 'Heath Robinson' waste water distribution device.
A plastic 'bidon' cut in half, spout downwards, like a funnel, attached to a length of discarded swimming pool hose. Thus cans of water can be emptied into it and the pipe directed to various parts of the garden. Super, except being me the idea is good but the practical skills lack a bit and it falls apart every now and again. Shall improve however with a tube of hyper glue of some sort.

Waste not

I'm so happy, tra la la. Super Ed has fixed up a pipe from the bath upstairs, through the attic, down the wall and into this sturdy green plastic item. Alan the plumber had already made a system at the end of the bath so that you can choose to run the waste water either to drain or into said new pipe. Fab!
Bio soap only, bien sur, and no lovely bath foam, but the plants should be joyful as this dry season approaches . . .well we're already in it An elderly man came to deliver sheep poo to us the other day: we had a good chat about weather, the garden etc. He asked whether we had water, i.e a well, I described my endeavors to catch any spare water, he thought this admirable and said goodbye, his parting comment was, "water, the battle of the future." How true I think.

Best present

Awww, Ezra, what a star.
Bit late as a post, but I lost the photo.
The boy person made me this wonderful gardening bag out of a sack. It has compartments for trowel, gloves etc and a shoulder strap. He hand stitched it all and added a wooden button. It is a thing of great beauty and I couldn't deside which blog to put it in as it is art, but is made of recycled things, and is also an important birthday marker . . . went for Post Mat, as everyone should be so creative with an old sack.

The three doors of the apocalpyse.

Chris Kershaw, wood worker par excellence has made us a beautiful new front door. The only problem with this is that all the other doors in the Hothouse now look vile.
These three are extraordinary in their miss-matched, ad hoc way. Why is one much higher than the others? Why do they appear to be made of wood as pathetic as egg boxes.Why did someone stick pattened plastic onto the glazed one after getting paint all over the glass first?
The choice was to start again, throw them all out, and buy/fit new ones. Or sand them all properly and apply a lovely time cosuming coat or two of cream satin, or . . .have a bit of silly bodging fun.
Went for the latter, having little time, and even less patience.
Cheap, P.Mat status, very good. Only the cost of half a tin of paint and a few squirts of acrylic colour, bit of sandpaper and some elbow grease. Three less doors at the tip.