There is a growing collection of mismatched cups on my windowsill.  I love the colours, just a little murky and so cheerful.  They are waiting for me to get started on giving them new life. 

You see, each one is a little broken.  Some chips are obvious, some cracks only show up when the cup is full of hot water.  I could call it perfectionism, but really it's a matter of safety.  Once when catching my mother throwing out a china cup, she explained that chipped wine glasses are fine, decadent even, but anything broken, holding a hot drink, is just dangerous.

Rather than waiting to fill these teacups with wine, ever the engineer, I'm on the look out for a ceramic drill bit.  I believe these will make a great collection of bulb planters.  I can gaze again at the cheerful colours while sitting around a pot of tea with good company.

My apologies for the lack of recent posts.  My work hours have unexpectedly increased and as a family we are still finding our feet in the shifting sands of new routines.  The crafting adventures continue.  They are as essential as breathing, yet the writing is taking a back seat.

Every spring I start looking at my vegetable garden.  The needles get put down in favour for spades, hoses and time outdoors. Sometimes it hold my attention, other times things get a little despondent by the end of January - lack of water (or watering), white fly and plants bolting to seed.  This is not one of those years. 



So far we have had :

• Peas and potatoes ready for Christmas, if only we had been at home to enjoy them.  
•  Avoided the tomato glut by just planting cherry tomatoes for myself, admitting that I am the only one who eat them
• My first success with climbing beans  - it's true you really do get more than with dwarf beans
• A successful strawberry bed - the answer to millipedes is to plant flowers instead.  Probably doesn't taste any good, but they looked fantastic.

This painting just had to come home with me.  The muted colors have me wanting to paint the walls to match.  I love the distant peaks and water front houses.  It feels so very sound of music.  I almost want to rip down the curtains and make playsuits for the children - so much easier when you have 2 rather than a Von Trapp-ish 7.  I am a sucker for musicals and dance movies.  I would love to believe in a world where every low point, challenge and high moment is met with a song.  Kind of like this:


The painting is from my first foray into live auctions.  This painting came with another of an english village and a "back to the op shop" framed cat poster.  Oh, and there was just a little fabric. Enough to clothe a whole Von Trapp family escaping through the mountains.