I’ve discovered a new coffee shop in Bath, an independent which makes a nice change. It’s based in a wonderfully wonky collection of rooms in an old Georgian house near the abbey – the kind of place I immediately start redesigning in my mind to see where I’d place my furniture. It’s called Jacobs but hush, keep it to yourself or I won’t be able to get a seat the next time I need a lunchtime gossip with a friend. (If you do find yourself nearby, sample the lumberjack cake and order a frothy hot drink so you can admire the artistry of the patterns they work into the foam.)
Up a windy staircase, my favourite little room still has the old fireplace flanked by bookshelves which sink deep into the amazingly thick walls. On the shelves there are old books, games, vintage china and a curiosity. I’ve had my eye on this strange creature for a while trying to make my mind up exactly what it is. It has a plump linen body and four dangly limbs. Then last week I noticed it had a friend and things made much more sense. The larger friend has antlers, so I’m thinking ‘moose’ or maybe a reindeer that failed to make it back into the Christmas decorations box.
Now, I know I’m a little strange but I even surprised myself when I started to feel sorry for the poor antler-less creature on the shelf. What had happened to his headgear? Does he live a jealous life in the shadow of his friend’s large antlers?
Today I turned craft guerilla. I whipped up a pair of felt antlers, popped them in my handbag and headed out for a chai latte. Once installed in the café, I had to pick my moment. It took an age for the room to empty, then I had to move quickly to safety pin the new antlers to the mini moose’s head. It was done in a flash and there he sat on his shelf with his bold new headgear.
Have I advanced the cause of guerilla crafting? Have I lost my marbles? You decide. The one thing I do know is that this little adventure made me smile more than anything else this week.