THWACK! It's the cheerful slap of leather on willow as we start another cricket season. Last year was frankly miserable, weather wise, but we were blessed last Sunday with near perfect Spring weather, as we opened with a friendly match in Dorchester-on-thames. I love watching cricket, but sometimes six hours or so sat on the boundary can be a little too much. So I sloped off with my camera to investigate the village centre. Dorchester has it's very own Abbey - and on this Sunday afternoon I had the place entirely to myself. It is small, but ancient; there has been a place of worship here since Saxon times, circa 635. The first altar you see on entering, displays some rare 14th century paintings which miraculously survived Cromwell's thugs.
The floors are paved with memorials and burial stones, from the sublime -
- to the sinister...
...this one being the most heart stopping I have ever read.
'Reader! If thou has a Heart famed for Tenderness and Pity, Contemplate this Spot. In which are desposited the Remains of a Young Lady, whose artless Beauty, Innocence of Mind and gentle Manner once obtain'd her the Love and Esteem of all who knew her. But when Nerves were too delicately spun to bear the rude Shakes and Jostlings which we meet in this transitory World, Nature gave way. She sunk and died a Martyr to Excesive Sensibility. Mrs Sarah Fletcher, Wife of Captain Fletcher, departed this Life at the village of Clifton on the 7 of June 1799 in the 29 year of her age. May her Soul meet that Peace in Heaven which this Earth denied her'.
I wondered (as must have so many others) just what 'rude shakes and jostlings' the poor soul had endured, and sent her a kind thought, because she died so young and so lamented. (EDIT - I've found an almost identical photo on Flickr, with the full and tragic story, here).
Every pew displayed an exquisitely colour co-ordinated set of kneelers and the still Sunday afternoon air was drenched with the heavy scent of lilies from elaborate displays. Quietly I wandered into the Shrine Chapel, where a thirteenth century Crusader knight lies, not on his back in pious prayer, but unusally poised for battle action.
Here too is the shrine to the founder, St Birinus, with bright carvings hidden in the upper niches
The Chancel and the East window are spectacular, but too grandiose for my taste. I prefer the simplicity of stone and paint.
Outside, the sweetest of cottages, sitting slightly wonkily behind the gravestones.
I headed back to the ground, my peaceful touristing done, and returned to a rather more earthly entertainment.
As usual I came prepared with the bare necessities and some work.
It was the first properly warm day of the year and in my sheltered corner I kept half an eye on our chaps, while getting on with the penguins. We won. Andy was 57 not out. He acknowledged his half century with a modest twitch of the bat.
If only it stays this way for the rest of the season.
I thought it had been another so-so week filled with all day needle felting sessions, housework and the odd walk, but in retrospect, it has been rather action packed. My polar bear trio proved to be more exacting than I anticipated; trying to sculpt three almost identical white blobs is quite tricky, the simple shape brings out the worst of the perfectionist in me, and I am still tweaking infinitesimally small contours here and there.
I finally got round to designing a catalogue (well, a small poster really) for my card range. I've been a bit lazy about bothering shops recently, even the ones who've stocked me before. The first one I sent out had an immediate response, and I am really pleased that the gorgeous shop Ark of Cambridge - the Norfolk Street branch - now have a selection of my designs. I had some blushingly nice feedback from the shop manageress about the flyer, and apparently a customer spotted it, and said how beautiful all the colours were. It is good to have them all laid out like this; a bit more professional than a handful of samples and a 'please stock me' letter.
A fat little packet smuggled across the border from the mysterious Adanaland arrived in the post. Full of delightful letterpress scraps, which made me ache to have the space to get my own neglected kit out. (The adorable shire horse is printed by the Incline Press: coincidentally, Sue of Mouse Notebook has just blogged about her day printing there, with scrummy closeups of type and nice papery things - lucky sausage).
Also enclosed were another batch of 'The Travelling Urchin', produced exquisitely and lovingly by Alan Brignull, the founder and benign ruler of Adanaland - I love these little A6 treasures, and am very grateful to him for my growing collection.
It was a welcome little diversion as I plodded on with the next trio for my trade order.
Jackie of Dog Daisy Chains and Karen of Moonlight and Hares asked about RSI and stabbing myself. Ladies, it is no and yes. No, I am lucky enough not to get RSI, just tired bits when I work for more than 8 hours a day. I try to do regular carpal tunnel exercises and I have a super-duper wrist support with two thumb splints, a hand splint and padded bead palm, which really helps when I'm on a marathon session.
Stabbing, however, is a regular occurrence. I frequently hold tiny bits of felt (for instance, beaks) and stab them into hard little shapes, often driving the needle straight down into the pad of my thumb. So I'm experimenting with using two thimbles for protection. It's not as sensory as using my naked fingers, but it hurts less when the needle slips.
I've probably mentioned at least a dozen times that I don't get out much. Getting out can be a bit expensive on a narrow budget, but kind Andy whisked me off to Cotswold Wildlife Park this week, which, despite it being rammed (because of the Easter holidays) was utterly brilliant. The last big day out we had was at the Barrington ploughing match, last September. I get quite giddy with the sheer pleasure of new surroundings and experiences; I came away with my head whirring, over a hundred reference photos and two tiny glass animals...
Nobly, I have restrained myself from posting an endless line of yet-another-zoo-animal here.(Collective sighs of relief!)
BIG EDIT - I had awarded this big, sharp rhino horn to a certain large company who seem to be taking unpermitted advantage of one of Little Cotton Rabbits lovely designs. At last they seem to be responding, but I'll save my half hearted cheer for when they actually do something positive. So the rhino stays.
Oh, by the end of April I will be able to stop thinking in threes!
Several weeks ago, when Winter was still prising his icy fingers under our rickety door, a packet of fairy goodness flew all the way over from Canada. Now, the delightful Fairy Gazette is published by Templar - but MY fairy gazettes are oh-so-special limited little limited editions, hand bound and signed by their creators and in that respect, they are priceless. And quite beautiful.
My favourite aspect of them - apart from the gorgeous colouring - is the 'advertising'. Utterly charming -
I am delighted that both Frances and Avril have started blogs - 'Fairy Lanterns' and 'Over the Garden Wall'. I can think of many fellow bloggers who will love their gentle ways, and I'm so glad to have made their aquaintance - and urge my fellow fairy lovers to go and knock - quietly - at their door, to say hello and welcome. And a very big thank you to them both, from me, for their generous gift.
As for me - I am terribly dull, being halfway through a trade order. I am not going to make a habit of this, but this is for a very special company. Making (almost) identical models takes far longer than one-offs, but I am sure it is Good For Me. And looking forward to being able to spill the beans when it is all done and dusted.
The next four days are forecast to be full of another trio of slow-shaping lumps.
Now that I have finished my little band of dogs;-
I have to admit I'd rather be out here...
With this person...
...sat in the sun behind a drystone wall, with a simple picnic. Maybe I'm just getting lazy.
WEBCAM UPDATE
I took my web cam offline for a while, but it's back. If you would like to watch the craft equivalent of paint drying, I am at my desk most days. If you are not in the UK, but somewhere outlandish where time is different, then I will usually be shutting down for the night while you are sipping your morning coffee, or, contrawise, I will be main-lining my morning pot of tea, while you are deciding which pajamas to wear. Unless, of course, I have escaped to the great outdoors.
It's rarely that I go out of my way to invite people into my home. Too much work and a disinclination for other people's company. But I had a good gut instinct about my recent visitors - both bloggers I've come to know - and my gut, in all its glory, is rarely wrong. We planned it weeks in advance so that we could acclimatise ourselves to the idea, although we all admitted to a few stressy nerves come the great day. However we all seemed to slot together as naturally as if we had been waiting for each other. And so it was that Hen and LiZZie and I spent a glorious day together. Kind LiZZie had bought gift bags - suncatchers of her own creating, lovely greens for nature loving Hen and I. And eggs for me, knowing my predilection for them.
I don't think we stopped talking, laughing and occasionally crying, all day. I took them over to 'my' woods, my refuge and second home.
Hen is one of those useful people (unlike me) who stop every so often and point out a little green thing, naming it and relating its special properties. I now have four more species I can show off to Andy and pretend I am very knowledgeable indeed (unless he is reading this, in which case I am rumbled). I had read that our woods are the last remnant of a huge ancient woodland which spread for miles, but she confirmed it by identifying wood sorrel, a sweet little shamrocky thing which I'd walked past without thinking, and is a typical sign of old woods. It explains the special atmosphere I always feel there.
Appropriately enough, as we returned to the car, a rainbow appeared - very faintly - against the rainclouds. We managed to dodge the downpour and returned home for soup and soda bread. We chatted non-stop until Andy returned home from work and we realised it was 6pm. I have rarely met people I felt so instantly comfortable with, and with whom I could be completely myself. When shall we three meet again? Soon, I hope.
A Happy Mothering Sunday to all mothers out there, especially mine, wherever she is in spirit. And to all cake bakers of all kinds - this little bear was a very special commission for my friend Miskellaneous, for her mother based on her own idea - I couldn't even begin to needle felt a tiny wooden spoon, so I had the 'onerous' task of buying a doll's house one, measuring a wee 2.5 cm.
It's been such a gorgeous day, and Spring is putting a very vigorous foot forward. My walks are full of activity and surprise - this is such a lovely and accidental shot. Not lovely because of my limited camera skills, but in the natural composition of the birds, two crows mobbing a buzzard who has infringed on their nesting area. It reminds me of a Chinese print in its perfect, graphic simplicity, (due entirely to fluke). The birds on the left with the downwards wings are the crows, bravely chasing off a bird of prey three times their size, on the right.
I seem to have developed a fairly vigorous foot myself, being up at 7.30 this morning, and quietly leaving a very tired Andy sleeping, to scurry off into the fresh sunshine. Recently I've been scouring the fields for hares, and this morning I caught my first one, a big chap dozing quietly on the sun baked earth. He blended in so well, that unless you were actually looking for him, you would probably not realise he was there. Lain like this, he looks exactly like a Victorian jelly mould. Alas, my zoom, as ever, is never long enough, so do click on the picture for a closer look.
Not content with my usual trot round the village, we went up to the Barrington and Sherbourne Estates, to see what was happening there. No hares, but a large gap where a much admired something used to be...
Notice anything missing? It's my nice green metal barn, possibly considered an eyesore by some, but a favourite landmark of mine on one of our regular walks. Andy says the farm is more in keeping with the landscape now, and I daresay he is right. But I loved that old carbuncle and its faded hideous green.
Last but certainly not least, many thanks to My Bella Bleu for featuring me on her blog, I have to admit I sometimes forget I sell cards and all that, but am always highly flattered when people say such nice things about my work and she has been very kind indeed.
