It's been a while. Sorry I've neglected you. I've no excuse at all but it has been a tad busy and if I'm honest, I am reduced to taking one day at a time because there just seems to be a little too much to focus on at the moment. I had a holiday, closely - a little too closely - followed by organising the school PTA summer fair, which in itself has an amazing leech-like capacity to suck the life out of me for weeks on end. I am also planning a glorious new kitchen. This has a terrible way of sucking me away from all the things that need to be done and into the internet to research little kitchen details, taps, paint colours, storage jars, in a huge frenzy of retail therapy. It keeps me up late at night; why would I want to go to bed when I might find the perfect pendant light with the next click? There is only so long I can only blame the PTA trouble for my fatigue. Then the rest of the time I am trying to catch up with the various other things that need to be kept in mind, like the two dance classes my little girl is signed up for both doing dress rehearsals and performances within two days of each other, to a gruelling schedule and to - for a dance class virgin like me - a surprising level of micromanagement. Hair in a bun? a) her hair is too short and b) the only bun I know how to do has whipped cream in the middle. Anyway enough of this. Let's talk of something nice.
I need to do a bit of a plug. I'm doing an exhibition next weekend - 21st and 22nd June - at St.Michael's Church in Flax Bourton, along with a few very talented friends and some other very talented people I haven't met yet. Do go along if you can. I need to forget about hair buns and sort out what to take...
I will pick out some of my best, and see if I can finish and frame a couple of new ones for you to see. I did make a rather nice one of the chickens a while ago but haven't yet managed any stitching on it, and don't know if I have a frame the right size...
Enough of the plug... here's something else I've wanted to talk about for a while.
There is a place we go to in Northern France every May. I wrote about it last year. A tiny sleepy village right next to the sea. I am always struck by the beauty of... Yes the beach. Yes the sunsets. Yes the food is good, although not as good as in Brittany. But how about the house signs? Why don't we seem to revel in typography and a good house name over here so much? Or is it just a seaside thing of a certain era? These were just spotted on the daily walk to the baker's and back one morning (it has to be said that the baguette got a bit squashed under my arm after taking so many photos, but luckily nobody seemed to notice at lunchtime)... The swankier neighbouring town has some corkers too.
And then what about these beauties, decorating a row of garages? There are four altogether. I love the way all the scenes are different. I wonder how grand, bright and shiny they would have been in their heyday. Spot the run-over chicken...
