Actually, there isn’t any ironing involved for me at this stage, but when it comes to preparation it’s just a question of getting on with it. So, instead of just talking about the new project I’ve actually started it.
The first stage is to work on the back. Yes, the BACK! Why? Well that will become apparent as I get a little further down the road, in the meantime, this will be the back
It’s a piece of wrinkled and crinkled cotton, a very fine cotton, and the texture is as a result of the dyeing process. At the moment it’s just as I want it. It won’t stay that way for ever, you will see how it changes way down the line.
So, the first stage is to tack it to another piece of cotton – one that’s slightly heavier.
This shows how fine the cotton is – it only has to be tacked around the edge at the moment – and I’m almost half way! If I get any further I’ll show you, but not tomorrow, because that is Wordless Wednesday
It will come as no surprise to those of you that follow my blog on a regular basis to discover that I share my life with colour. In fact, I think you might be disappointed if I didn’t admit it! I am happiest when I am silently working on a project, whether I am using paper, or fabric. The following gallery is just a glimpse into part of my life. I am totally at ease and comfortable when I am engrossed.
These are just a few of the projects that have taken my time during the last few weeks. I didn’t dare show you all of them. I also included a picture of pears and a plum which is my current choice of inspiration. My poor husband tolerates my passion.
Full details of this challenge, and lots more information can be found here. Don’t forget to pop over to Just Snaps too.
…. there was an uncle. He lived a few miles away, and was visited regularly. His garden backed on to a lake, and was full of plants that we didn’t have in our garden. One of them was a tiny purple viola, a little like these.
I loved to go and see them, and one day, at the right time of the year, the plants were divided and I was allowed to take a pot home with me. They grew and grew in our garden at home, and when we moved some of them moved with us and continued to flourish in the next garden. I left them there when I got married, but when my parents moved again a little clump went with them to Somerset where they continued to flourish.
Some time later another house move had to be made, this time to Hampshire. Mum and Dad came closer to me – and so too did the pretty little violas. Each year in late spring and summer they would burst into life and present their pretty smiling faces to the world. Sadly, that house is no longer occupied by a member of our family, but these little flowers which evoke such happy memories still live on. We now have descendants in our garden too, nurtured from a division taken about 10 years ago. They have settled in to the wild area with the greatest of ease, even seeming at home with the self-sown miniature foxgloves.I took these photographs this morning.
I wonder if they will travel to another garden soon?