Rain rain go away

Well, actually, don't, but could you at least let me get the washing dry?  I've tumbled-dried sheets and towels, but some things I just refuse to put in the dryer (who doesn't remember what the industrial-strength tumble dryers at the laundromat/laundrette did to your bras, back before we owned our own laundry equipment?) & so the back of our house looks like a chinese laundry... and none of it is any drier than it was when I put it out yesterday!


Apart from this:

which turned up earlier in the week from here, and although I know they're old and have been superceded by equal bouts of loveliness (actually, if I never have to look at that whole Wildwood collection ever again, it won't break my heart, you know why...) but there's something just so fantastic about the combinations you can make with them that I wanted to buy some to keep.  Forever.  

When lovely Clare from Lulu Carter visited me, we talked about how to keep favourite fabrics forever (hey, we could start a club, the 'FFF Wits'.  Nice...) and I commented that I'd seen it done on her blog and that's my plan, long term - pieces of my favourite fabrics, in embroidery frames, on a wall.  Nice.  When?  Who the FFF knows?

 

Thank you Miss Lulu for letting me share your image!

In other news from The House of Wet Washing & The Outlaw Josie Wales*, I made this:

which is going off to Brisvegas, for a lovely customer who lives in NZ, and I spent some time ogling these, which came from the V&A, one of my all-time favourite places in the world, as a slightly late but I wasn't going to mention it birthday gift from Doc Rosie and her other super-talented daughter, Miss Alix, who lives in London (hello, yes, April, not long now)...

  

Trouble is, when given ribbon as beautiful as this, you never want to use it, so you start hoarding.... (joke... 'start' was a very long time ago!)... and then you need a bigger house!

Now, off to break my fast, move my washing & sit in my lavender-scented Small But Perfectly Formed room, and make a dog!

Ciao!

*Mr Golightly spent yesterday watching Clint Eastwood movies.  What else would you do?

OMG, somebody pour me onto the couch...

7.00am & I'm awake, so it must be Sunday.  Ick.  Up.  Peanut butter & honey on raisin toast & irish breakfast tea (twinings, of course).  3 slices (naughty but nice).  Somebody left the cake out in the rain... no, no, stop that.  Somebody put the peanut butter in the fridge.  Fine for them as likes their toast hot.  Not so fine for the refined types who also frequent this hotel & like their toast cold.  Cold peanut butter is very hard to spread.  


Spend an inordinate amount of time looking for two particular fabrics, which I have in my tiny mind as being in a big box.  But of course they aren't, are they?  They're in a small box, and it takes me 30 minutes to find them. Put on load of washing.  Go outside in PJ's & inspect existing loads of washing on line from yesterday.  Nearly dry.  Check sky.  Nearly damp.  Decide to live a little & risk it.  20 minutes later, emerging from shower to hear rain falling down drain pipe.  Curse.


Rush outside (back in PJ's) & salvage washing.  Hang to dry on newly acquired aluminium clothes horse, guaranteed never to rust.  The horse, that is, not the washing.  I have had clothing rust, but a paste of lemon juice & salt will get rid of rust stains quite nicely, I've discovered.  Go back inside & continue the cutting out thingy.  Keep working on that until MWH arises at 9.30am, discuss day's program with him, put washing out, put next load of washing on... keep cutting and sewing, cutting and sewing...


Pop out at 11.00 to buy the Birthday BBQ for MWH, god, how much fun is that (not).  Stainless steel versus cast iron, number of burners, hood versus no hood, built-in versus trolley, natural gas versus LPG... then home again to do more toy bag sewing, strip the bed, another load of washing, iron things for work tomorrow, pop out again to pick up the BBQ from the shop, more washing (god, was it interminable this weekend or what?), cook dinner... god what a day.  


yada yada yada...


On happier, less domestic notes, the Tree Waratah in our front garden has flowered, for the first time since it went in, in 2005.  It's going to be gorgeous when it reaches its full 10 metres:

Our native Magnolia is also flowering, a bit harder to see, but given away by the buzzing of bees which flock to the gorgeous creamy white flowers:

Two of the toy bags are finished:

and one to go...