We found this newspaper in an old iron safe that had previously belonged to my Great Aunt. The newspaper’s a whopping one hundred and fifteen years old and it felt a bit weird knowing that we were probably the first people to have looked at it since it had been stuffed into the back of the safe all those years ago.

Reading through the news from 1896 it was the adverts that really caught my eye. Produced in a time long before anyone had dreamt up the idea of brand identity or trading standards they come across as wonderfully naive. The Victorian copywriting trend for repeating words in capital letters is definitely an attention grabber. Who could possibly resist the charms of HAMS! HAMS! CHEESE! CHEESE! BACON! BACON! from Liptons grocery shop?

Sufferers of blood impurities must have been reassured by this very confident advert from Clarke’s World-Famed Blood Mixture. The typesetter has created a helpful column that screams THE BLOOD – just in case it wasn’t clear that Blood Mixture was for your, erm, blood.

Carters took a more playful approach to convince readers that their sugar coated pills really were the bees knees. Their little rhyme is ever so sweet, quite modest in-fact, when you consider that they’d found a cure for liver disease.

Hearts Content

I found this clunky typewriter discarded in the undergrowth of the park near my house last September. It looked bizarre sprawled in the autumn leaves with its dislocated hinges and wonky metal arms. At the time I was rushing on my way to work and couldn’t drag it along with me so I took a quick picture instead and made a mental note of its name – Imperial Portable.

We already have a typewriter in our house and one mechanical writing machine is enough for any family so I admit I did consider leaving it in amongst the shrubs looking weird and rusty.  But I felt responsible for it and was compelled  to walk through the park on my way home,  just to check it was still there.

That evening I showed the photo to my good friend Sarah who insisted we rescue it and promptly marched me to the park to fish it out from its hiding place. Once home the Imperial Portable lay neglected in my cellar for a few months before it found refuge with a kind man who rehabilitates poorly typewriters. Apparently its been restored to its original regal splendour and is now in good company. I’m expecting a type written postcard from it any day soon.

Meet Dolly. She was found on the floor of a car park on a cold grey morning in February this year. I think she did a teeny tiny wave to get my attention but then stayed very still whilst I picked her out from the gravel and broken glass. The friend who was with me at the time was intrigued to see what had caused me to stop in my tracks and sift through the muck and grime. She guffawed when she saw the grubby figurine in my palm, which was fair enough, but I felt strangely maternal towards Dolly and kept her safely in my pocket.

Dolly lives at my house now and I think she quite likes getting lost. I don’t see her for weeks on end and then she’ll turn up on a window sill, or a book shelf. So I put her in my pocket and then go and lose her all over again.
Hearts Content

Recently we had some building work done on our house which involved knocking into the wall of the chimney breast. It was a messy job for all those concerned (not me, I went to the park) but a small reward lay hidden in the brickwork. This perfectly preserved, albeit empty, packet of Wild Woodbine ciggies from who knows when.  After being  protected from daylight by the sooty darkness of the chimney the colours are pristine and the packet looks like new.

Apparently its not uncommon to find an old shoe lodged in a chimney, its an unfortunate hazard of the job if you’re a chimney sweep. But I’m not sure about packets of ciggies and would love to know if anyone else has found strange things squirrelled away in the brickwork of their house.
Hearts Content

Well, its been a long time, but Hearts Content is back home from the Charity Shop and has plenty of hand me down bits and pieces to share. We’re looking forward to dusting down the blog and soon have it looking as lovely as a bit of old tat from the Sunday Car Boot Sale.

To get our house in order we’ve upgraded to WordPress 3.1 (we were previously operating on a steampowered version from the olden days). Our upgrade is thanks to some sound advice from the good doctors at the Social Media Surgery followed by some technical geekery by Mr Cliff Manning.

This post started off as a test photo from Cliff to make sure the cogs were all working so, in the spirit of Hearts Content, we’ve borrowed it to welcome in this new era of secondhand stories.

Story Donated By Charlie at Hearts Content Event
Armley YMCA

Photo donated by Andreea on Flickr

I like to find lonely tiles who have lost their friends. I reunite them with other orphans from all over the world – Brazil, Germany, Armley and the like. I put them all over the kitchen in a hotch potch of colour.

It makes us all smile!
Charlie

Story Donated By Sarah Howells

A few years ago, to the delight of my son, I bought all new matching bed linen, a first for me in my whole life. However, my inner junk junkie was never far away and it just didn’t feel right. The knitters of Armley Helping Hands have eased my discomfort with their gorgeous squares blankets, picked up for £5 at I Heart West Leeds or Charming Armley Cake Competition.

The flowery pillow slips are from St Vincent de Paul (20p the pair, that’s 10p each!), the disgust/incomprehension of work colleagues when I return to the office with them makes it doubly worth it. The iron bedstead was found in the overgrown back garden of a house in France, brought to London and given to my sister, after 10 years she gave it to me to make way for Ikea bunk beds for the kids, her loss my definite gain. One piece was badly bent, but I happen to have a friend who is a blacksmith so problem solved. The rage/disappointment of my puritanical 16 year old bounces off me, I’m shielded by a forcefield created by my version of shabby chic.
Sarah Howells