Tag Archives: junk

How to turn a door into a shelf

1. Find an old door (a long time ago already)

2. Put it in a corner of the spare room and forget about it for a long time.

3. Suddenly remember the door and get the urge to do something with it. Carry it from the spare room to the patio, not realising how heavy it is. Put your back out. Spend the next three days lying on your back, swallowing Coxiflam, and decide you hate the f*$#ing door and never want to see it again.

4. Months later: take the wrong turn-off from the N2 one day on the way home from Milnerton and so drive past a vintage furniture shop in Salt River that you didn’t know existed.

5. Visit the shop immediately. See that much of what is being sold is revamped old stuff, and remember the blasted door and think about how nice it could look.

6. Be realistic and accept that you will not be the one to make it look nice because you never seem to have enough time. Also you swore never to touch it again.

7. Ask Rob to put the door in the car and go back to the shop and ask JP and Gerald to do their thing.

8. Go back when JP phones to say your door is ready. Take cash and Rob.

9. Get the door home. Allow Rob to put it up on the wall.

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10. Be as happy with it as if it was all your own work.

through the window

I picked up this old window frame from one of those little hole-in-the-wall shops off Main Road in Salt River. Set me back a whole R40.

window 4

This week, with all this lovely sunshine-in-winter we’ve been having, I finally a) got it outside, b) sanded it down a bit, c) blobbed on a bit of blue paint,

window 3 window 5

d) sanded it some more, e) screwed in some picture hooks on the inside, f) added some hearts, and g) hung it up.

window 2  window 1

As you can see, I left the back pretty much untouched and, even though I got a couple of splinters, I still couldn’t be bothered to fix it. It’s the rough look, okay. I like it. And yes, it’s because I’m lazy.

The mosaic double-heart was made for me by Rob, and the one underneath is a ceramic heart by a very talented Cape Town artist whose name I simply cannot remember. I do remember buying it for R90 at the Constantia Waldorf medieval market a couple of years ago.

Back soon x

Milnerton Market in pictures

I have over 30 scarves, and they are becoming a problem.  They don’t fit properly anywhere and get mixed up with other things in the wardrobe. I had the brilliant idea this past week of having a towel rail put up in my bedroom next to the dresser, so that I could drape all 40 30 scarves in one place and they would all be easily visible and accessible. This is why we went to the Milnerton Market today, to find a towel rail.

The Milnerton Market, which is actually in Paarden Eiland but on the way to Milnerton and is less of a mouthful to say, is a really extraordinary place.   It has grown enormously over the last couple of years,  and there must be over 400 traders on a sunny Sunday like today. You can get anything and everything, from kitchen ware and furry deerhunters made in China, to rusted spanners and vice grips from what might be Voortrekker times, to British royalty  memorabilia (there was a lot of Charles and Diana today, oddly), to handmade wooden furniture, bicycles turned into planters, long-playing records turned into dishes, and cosmetics and clothes and hats and batteries and and and

The buyers are as much of a cross-section as the traders. All classes, all colours, all ages, and I heard at least 12 different languages being spoken.  There were fashionistas, antique dealers, junk junkies (like me), grannies, bike and hobby enthusiasts, shop owners, DIY guys, and even ordinary people just doing their weekly vegetable shop. And cash, of course, is king.  

There is a beautiful view of the mountain from that side of the peninsula, so my gallery of photos will start with that; it ends with a couple of exhausted dogs, waiting for their owners to pack up and take them home, and last of all a picture of my feet in their wonderful new crocheted slippers that I snapped up. I chatted briefly to Jean, who made them, and suggested she try a more up-market market, as it were. She said she will just as soon as she manages to get a new car – her old one was stolen, then her brother wrote off the replacement. I hope she gets one soon.

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To be continued…