Font Sunday: Alice in Dreamland

I have been wondering whether to share these photos or not.

Today I joined in with the Design Museum's Font Sunday (on Twitter but also Pinterest) and I loved seeing so many different book covers, and sharing some of the ones on my shelves. I did a post on Font Sunday last year when the subject was tea tins, and I've posted about book covers here, here, and here. Today's Font Sunday was hosted by Penguin.

When I worked at Penguin's sister company ten years ago, we had charity book sales a few times a year, and we were like kids in a sweet shop. We waited for the email to say the book sale was open, and raced down the stairs to battle for Penguin Classics, children's audio books, and £20 cookery books that we could buy for £2.

One of the books I bought remained on a shelf or packed in a box for nine years. Every so often I would take it out, consider unwrapping it from its shrink wrap, but fearfully put it away again. It was a Penguin "Design Your Own Cover" edition of Alice's Adventures in Wonderland - I loved the idea of designing the cover for a book I adore so much, but the pressure was too great. What if my design was terrible? I wouldn't be able to change it and I'd be stuck with it.

The solution came once I knew I wasn't going to keep the book; I was going to design the cover and then give it as a present. It's back to front, really - surely that would put me under more pressure to design a "perfect" cover? Somehow it didn't work like that, and it took the pressure off.

It was quite special to finally unwrap this beautiful book, with its blank cover save for the Penguin logo in the corner.

I had a few ideas for the cover, and thought I would be safe and draw the queen finding her white roses painted red, but then I thought of Dreamland in Margate. If you've never heard of it (and if you're not from the south east of England it's quite likely you haven't), Dreamland is a theme park in Kent. We went there on a school trip in 1991, and I can't really remember much about the park. I'm fairly sure we were slightly disappointed that it didn't seem as big as Chessington or Alton Towers, but we were kids and it was a day off school, so we were happy. Our clothes were awful - I was talking to a friend about this recently, and we both can't bear the thought of sharing photos from the 90s because our clothes (and NHS glasses) were so bad. Neons were a big thing...I'm sure we all wore neon pink or yellow on this school trip. And we definitely sang The Shoop Shoop Song on the coach.

It was harder to draw this than the queen and roses picture - that felt more intuitive and a bit wilder, whereas this felt structured - straight lines and perspective aren't my forte. I was pleased with it in the end, even if it is a bit wonky. And I'm pleased I bought a neon pink pencil - I knew it would come in useful!

Oh, and I really love rabbits. I have not shared enough rabbit photos on here - that needs to change.

Font Sunday: Tea tins

The Design Museum in London plays host to a photo-sharing afternoon on Twitter every Sunday, all about fonts in different contexts. There's a different subject each week, and people share photos of interesting fonts.

Today's subject was tea packaging, which was the perfect excuse for me to grab a few of my tea tins, chop some bits from the garden, and join in the font photography. You may have noticed that I am a big fan of pretty containers (especially anything Tiptree) and of good tea!

There isn't much flowering in the garden now. I had some hollyhocks, but they've been eaten by caterpillars or some other hungry so-and-so. (The Very Hungry Caterpillar seems like an adorable story until you notice the downside of hungry caterpillars). But I had fountain grass and bunny-tail grass, sedum, a few asters, salvia, and a couple of David Austin 'Cariad' roses.

The tall tin is from Postcard Teas - a lovely shop on Dering Street, just off New Bond Street. The owner, Tim d'Offay, goes to the tea plantations himself to see how the tea is grown and to check the conditions in which the workers are living. The teas are delicious, and if you go to the shop, Tim or one of the other lovely people working there will make you a cup of the tea to try before you decide which to buy.

The shorter tins are Wedgwood. As well as teapots and cups, the company also makes beautiful tins of tea, in different shades of blue.

The pink Cariad rose was especially welcome after yesterday's rugby result. I've never understood rugby, but after living with lots of Welsh rugby fans in Swansea, if I had to support anyone, it would always be Wales!

Finally, here are George Orwell's instructions for making a good cup of tea. The article was called 'A Nice Cup of Tea' after the phrase that brings us such comfort, but I think "good" is more appropriate. Also, the phrase "nice cup of tea" sometimes reminds me of the film Vera Drake; not very comforting! I agree with most of what Orwell says, particularly that the best tea comes from India and Sri Lanka (I am a bit biased, though), that it should be very strong and leave you feeling "wiser, braver or more optimistic after drinking it".

I'm about to embark on a research project for university, and I know the one thing that will help me to get through marathon study sessions is an endless cup of tea!

The blue and yellow

After three years and six months with the same profile picture - a romantic table arrangement full of pink roses, white freesias, and lots of late summer flowers hand-picked from Blooming Green that was used for Zula and Jody's wedding - I've decided it's time for a change.

I could just add a different flower arrangement, which would definitely be this one - the 500 Days of Summer blue and yellow, lavender field bridal bouquet.

But I've decided to use Wendy Bell's wonderful logo, since it took weeks of chatting and reworking to perfect. There's more blue and yellow, and they tie in with the delicate forget-me-nots that Wendy drew. The flowers are a symbol of faithful, undying love.