Thursday, February 2, 2012


Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half-light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.

{WB Yeats}

Crotcheted Milk Jug Cover

Souvenir Handkerchief

Jaunty Printed Tablecloth

Hand embroidered tableclothes

I have all of both my grandmothers' and a great aunt's fanciwork as well as a small collection of retro homewares which belonged to my mother.  I'm glad I've held onto them.  I'm too sentimental to dispose of them in a rush of decluttering but I've no idea what to do with multiple embroidered duchess sets (one large doily and two smaller ones for a lady's vanity table), masses of edged handkerchiefs and assorted tablecloths in a riot of glorious patterns which do not fit any our tables. 

As I am an aspirational rather than practical crafter, I am resisting the temptation to turn the hankies into bunting or make a curtain out of crotcheted doilies or lay an artful table using mismatched tablecloths placed on the diagonal.  It would not end well.  Thankfully as I work full-time, I can't indulge in such whimsy.  This is, as the SSO* would attest, one of the advantages of my being at work.  There's no getting caught up in fanciful domestic projects. I'm sure I would get better with practice.  'I only need time', she says, thinking of the unfinished baby birth sampler for the first-born (which I am aiming to complete for her 21st birthday!). 

I am thoroughly enjoying this final week off nonetheless; pottering to my heart's content, sorting, arranging and planning up to the end of term one on 13 April, interspersed with baking, ironing and abundant free time on the computer (for research and inspiration, you'll understand).    

The modem is my sewing basket.

* Strong, Silent One (Husband)

Poem by WB Yeats.


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