This autumn seems rather reluctant to arrive properly –a few foggy mornings settled some dampness on those leaves that have fallen but the Pelargonium with its three new flowers has taken a starring role in the end of the year garden. I’ve swept leaves today, most had blown away of their own accord leaving only the large, heavy ones ad those caught under other foliage. There will be more on my wibbly wobbly drive tomorrow.
Only the binding to sew down and my patchwork bag will be finished and ready to carry the next project which is still a half formed idea and several fat quarters laid out on the floor to consider which goes with what etc. So its back to sewing the squares for the curtain … probably the most boring sewing job ever but I’m convinced the end product will be worth every drop of ennui.
I’m now reading The Summer Book by Tove Jansson… its a gentle ride to a different season in the far north of Scandinavia but keeps reminding me of all the things I did with my Grandmother. We went to see Norman Wisdom at the picture house, watched the brides at St Peters Church on a Saturday afternoon, mainly to see their dresses -very different to the activities Sophia does with her Grandmother like rowing to the other islands & building tree sculptures - but in many ways just the same. My Nanny wore a hat to town, and refused to use a stick … yes, different but like Sophia’s Grandmother she taught me lots … and I think her genes live on in my sewing.
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