Cottage chic

Now I’m seeing evidence of cottages everywhere in my house.

And then there are the many miniatures – a sort of ‘cottage chic’.

It’s no wonder that my brother said, on Friday, that he hopes he dies before I do so he doesn’t have to clear out my house. That comment prompted me to weed my bookshelves in the weekend and give away two boxes of books. I expect he won’t notice the difference!

I suspect childhood reading was the source of my fascination with cottages. These pictures are from books I won’t be giving away.

Books with cut-away interiors intrigue me, such as the last photo (above) of a neolithic French rural cottage. As Katherine Mansfield wrote in The Doll’s House: “Why don’t all houses open like that? How much more exciting than peering through the slit of a door into a mean little hall with a hat-stand and two umbrellas!”

My favourite childhood book was Miss Happiness and Miss Flower by Rumer Godden. In it, a Japanese dolls house is built, similar to the one in my copy of The Ultimate Dolls’ House Book by Faith Eaton, along with other interesting cottages, reminding me of the Folk Museum I visited in Korea which replicated the interiors of houses over time.

It’s not only children’s books which feature cottages. There are many books about women (or men, as in The Searcher by Tana French) who retreat to a country cottage to regroup and reshape their lives, with mixed success, such as in Falling by Elizabeth Jane Howard. Miss Marple lives in a cottage in the English village of St Mary Mead. Tove Jansson’s fictional family in The Summer Book live in a cottage on a Finnish island. Other authors have shown the disadvantages of the cottage: Jane Austen in Sense and Sensibility, Claire Fuller in Unsettled Ground. Still, somehow, the romance of the cottage lives on, whether it’s a place of retreat or a place to set out from on adventures.

Wombat adventures

As I picked up my paper at my gate this morning, a woman walking her children to school came over to thank me for the books I’d given them a couple of weeks ago. She said her daughter particularly liked the one written by the same author who wrote the wombat books. “I’ve got those books,” I said. “So have we,” she replied.

The wombat books are by Jackie French, beautifully illustrated by Bruce Whatley, and are based on the true story of Mothball the wombat who takes up residence in a backyard. Imagine having a wombat battering down your back door demanding carrots! In the second book, the residents’ toddler befriends a baby wombat.

I am pretty sure I bought the first wombat book in Australia. My trip to Adelaide and Melbourne was in September-October 2003. The book was published in 2002, so it is likely I did. I definitely bought the plush toy wombat there. It sits on the top of my computer screen.

I looked out my travel journal. I found myself immersed in it and read the whole thing.

I have a couple of shelves for my travel photos and journals. As you can see, I have bought plush toys from other countries as well. The homemade red and black albums on the top are of the 1981 OE (from South America to Europe to Canada), the yellow albums are of China Dec 87-Jan 88. The most recent journal is of Scandinavia, France and Portugal 2018 – the albums are digital; some are on this blog – in fact, that 2018 trip was why I started blogging, not intending to carry on afterward! Every now and again, I will get out a journal and relive the experience.

I sat reading in my egg chair today, watching the occasional plane flying high overhead and wondering why so many people choose to fly. The book I was reading was set in Sweden. Before I knew it, I was reading that journal…