Had a lovely break. Sun, more sun, hot, hotter, power blackouts, sand, surf, sharks, penguins ("Happy Feet" has a lot to answer for), koalas, wallabies, rabbits in the back yard, possums in the trees that woke us at all hours, ice-creams, wine, more wine, taking little girl's to big people's restaurants, having them sit at the bar and drink raspberry lemonades that were bigger than they were. And a bit of sewing and knitting thrown in for good measure. Bliss. I bought a couple of magazines while away and was inspired by some creations in one magazine, made out of old blankets. Or should I say vintage blankets. It somehow sounds far more attractive? But no, I'll stick with old blankets. So where does one find old blankets? The op-shop of course! Along with my current aversion to using the word "vintage" (just because everything made prior to 1999 now seems to be tagged "vintage" and the price triples) I also have an aversion to calling my op-shopping "thrifting". Maybe because it is getting close to Australia Day and no self respecting Australian goes "thrifting". We go op-shopping, mate. My track record with op-shopping is not good. The score in the past has been op-shops (too many to tally) Vs Me (zilch). I look at other blogs and marvel at the finds that other's seem to score. I have never found anything worthy of the 50 cents asking price. Until now ... Nothing but the best for me to cut into small pieces. And don't you love those old advertising slogans - "Make "goodnight" a certainty". Perhaps I shouldn't be cutting them up. It could deter the 3 out of 4 sleep walkers I have in my home.Saw this table cloth and had to have it. I have no idea what I am going to do with it, because once again, it is calling out to be cut up into small pieces. But those colours! That pattern! Now if that doesn't say stylish and old (note - not vintage), then what does?If I was really good, I would make myself a little sundress, reminiscent of the fifties, but it was only a small tablecloth, and after the afore mentioned wines and restaurants, I would be lucky to have it go round my waist. Perhaps I should stick with a nice little handbag.And then I just really couldn't go past this little treasure. It was so lilacy and cakey, that I could taste my Nannie's sponge cake, or my Grandma's asparagus rolls, or my Old Auntie Pattie's cheese scones. The op-shopping bug for old things has well and truly been caught.