Sunday, September 29, 2019

The Exhaustion of Spring

This weekend I had plans, big plans, oh my yes.  Apart from a little light planting and mulching (on Friday I had snaffled six large bags of coffee grounds from the delightful baristas at the cafe at work, a record I think and very tricky to get downstairs and home without stretching one's arms), it was going to be indoors and stitching away on an Art Deco dress for next February.  February always rolls around a lot faster than I think it's going to but this time I was going to be prepared, oh yes indeed.  So, out into the garden bright and early on Saturday morning to plant the lily bulbs kindly donated to me by a dear friend.  Then onto the garden with the coffee grounds, first mixed in with compost.  But the weeds, the weeds were calling.  And the hanging baskets needed replanting.  And the front porch was in dire need of sweeping out and then that made me notice that some of the plants there needed attention.  On it went, and now the end of the weekend is here and not a single stitch has been put into an Art Deco costume.  After Saturday's efforts I predicted to myself that I would be too sore to continue on Sunday but it was fine.  Maybe next weekend it will be raining and there will be some enforced indoor time.  Whether it is raining or not, I must do better in the sewing room.  If I ever recover from my labours this weekend, that is.  I feel I need to return to work tomorrow for a well earned rest.  I imagine my colleagues would object if I fell asleep and started dribbling into my keyboard, though.

How lovely it was to be outside.  After the bird bath was cleaned out a male blackbird had the most lengthy bath and was a joy to watch.  And the spring light was so intense on some of the plants, the sun shining through the holes which must have been bitten into this leaf before it unfurled were casting bright shadows on the rest of the leaf, I had to stop and admire the effect for quite some time.  (And stretch out my back.)


The dark purple tulips were most obliging and blossoming their hearts out.  They are so velvety and the colour is so deep and rich, it does make a person wonder at the huge variety in the natural world.  


And all the while I was observed closely by a disapproving rabbit, who was deeply suspicious of my actions in his patch.



We had had a very eventful time before even arriving at Shoestring Cottage.  Only about three weeks ago my little Figaro car broke down on the way to the cottage, and my sister (who is a rock and the most helpful and uncomplaining sister a body could ever desire) towed us all the way to her house.  The problem was detected the next day by Mr Shoestring (yes, being an amateur is another one of his many and varied talents), and we were on the road again.  Then the same thing happened this week, and my poor sister had to turn out in the cold and dark and tow us once again.  This time I noticed that she had bought a new tow rope and torch, that is how well organised she is.  Anyway, she must have felt sorry for me, because she insisted on giving me my Christmas present early and I have been using it already this weekend.  A lovely cup, saucer, side plate and dinner plate with violets painted on it.  Perfection!


While I was using it this weekend I was musing about the fact that we love to collect things for our loved ones, once we know their tastes and likes.  Some people have very definite and predictable tastes and I am one of them, so I suppose I am easy to buy for.  My sister has been presenting me with violet china for probably about 40 years now, and I never can get enough.  She on the other hand, has a fondness for hand painted china with misty roses on it, and whenever I find a piece I know immediately that it would be perfect for her.  And my daughter only had to tell me that she had bought a pretty ceramic swan vase in an op shop in London to start me on the hunt for pieces for her.  I now have quite a selection for when she comes "home" again.  



And since the thrill of the chase is part of the fun (in fact a large part of the fun) when we are scrounging around in markets, op shops and second hand shops, the more people you have to look out for, the better.  Even if you don't find anything which thrills you to the core on your outing, to come home with a treasure for one of your dearest friends or relations is just as good, sometimes even better.  

Next time I hope to have some news about a fabulously successful Art Deco sewing session.  It's always good to have something to work towards, anyway.