My Pocket

of a walk

happy easter!

Happy Easter everyone! Spring has arrived - with sunshine, warmth and fresh green everywhere. I've been soaking it up with my parents and youngest brother who came to visit for three days, being proper tourists discovering some places I've never been in the New Forest. I was able to wear my new summerdress for the first time along with the sandals I've already insisted on wearing for a couple of weeks, come rain or shine.

One of the projects on my list for the college break is on its way. I want to create a crafty corner (where there used to be a bright green homemade cushion sofa that never got sat on), a place where I can have a little table for my sewing machine and a shelf with my fabrics, yarn, knitting needles, sewing notions and other stuff from my stash.

Stage one - clearing out said sofa and surrounding items was completed a week or two ago. Stage two - replenishing stash: wooden sewing box, embroidery thread, craft books and sewing tools accomplished last week. Stage three - acquiring shelf, table and desk (related project part of grand plan of improving room interior) not quite successful yesterday as table was not available in any IKEA in all of Britain. However, I'm inspired so am sure I will find something for the purpose eventually. Pics to follow.

I wish you all lovely spring days and inspiration for everything you do.

mormor

Easter reminds me of my grandma, these glass decorations were hers. I remember them always being there and looking at them as a kid. The colour, shapes and light shining through the drops still give me the same little tingle of excitement. Not sure why but I suspect it's got something to do with girls' relationship with small colourful objects, much the same as I now feel about fabrics, yarn or what inspires me for the moment. Still small colourful things a lot of the time. And I still miss you grandma...

Wasn't she great? Look at that little girl - she's about the size of the horse's head! On the back of the photograph it says "Collecting the mail on Stina" so I expect she must have gone on that work horse daily. During the Second World War her father bought a farm in the countryside of southern Sweden in order for them to survive should food supplies become scarce. She loved living on a farm as far as I know and loved animals, like I do. I do miss our talks and simple times.

Love you, always