Wednesday 2nd April - Synchronised Stitching

What happened to Tuesday's post? Much the same as happened to February's stitching; it got merged. Tuesday and Wednesday, February and March.

Ang and I were both a bit 'full-on' through the past couple of months so we cut ourselves a bit of slack.

I started this back in February. It's a square, representing a lawn of spring flowers, crocus at the top (ignore the red blobs, I'll explain in a minute), daffodils in the middle and tulips at the bottom. It makes a little seasonal corner on the back of the cover with autumn and winter. The blank patch is the last remaining area.

The background is a Christmas fabric,  complete with red berries, which I didn't want. The berries at the top will be covered over, and the ones in the middle are undered a little needle turn appliqué patch. First I rough stitched lines in two, maybe three shades of green, then French knots for crocuses and daisy stitches for the daffodils and tulips. 

Karen Turner (Stitching Life) made daffodils look so easy:

Maybe I should have used embroidery floss. Maybe I should have made them bigger. My scissors were twitching,  but I sent it off before I started snipping them out!

So the flowers encompass February crocus, early daffodils and the first March tulips, which were coming into flower at the end of the month. 

Ang sent me a patchwork of ribbons from her stash;

She chose books and music and sewing to reflect our shared interests, embezzling some of the notes with bright French knots. A brilliant way to do an awkward long thin space, and lovely choice of colours. 

Flat gifts too; an interesting looking recipe book and a little notepad. I'm looking forward to using both.

Oh oh! Just one patch each... but we won't have finished. I think we're planning to do some decorative stitching along the borders between the patches, and then add the date, and then finally make up the covers. We'll be going for a wee whily yet.

Music

I always think of this Mendelssohn 'Song without Words' op 102 no 5 as Spring-like. It's actually known as 'the Joyous Peasant'. It took me some time to find a version at a speed I like. This one is played by Andras Schiff.  Daniel Baramboim rattles through in 1'08 (not the fastest, either!). Jacopo Salvatori mooches towards the end in 1' 45" (yawn). Andras takes 1' 38" which seems gently happy to me. A few seconds make all the difference. 

A good friend from my school days used to play it, and I liked it so much I borrowed her music.

There is another 'Song without Words' which is called 'Spring' but I dislike it intensely!

Definitely Monday 31st March - I checked the day and date carefully.

 After my total confusion on the Saturday just gone, what with anticipating the change of time and everything, I thought I'd better start this week with everything straight in my mind...

Next there will be blossom - in the garden

Every time I go into the garden there is more to see. The apple tree is exploding into life, and today I saw the first forget-me-nots in flower. They had self-seeded in the concrete slab close to the compost bin. I nearly trod on them when I went to dump the potato and carrot peelings.

Travellers' Joy

We were out and about today, driving along roads I hadn't visited in more than five years. The verges were bright with leaves and flowers; willow and hawthorn for leaves. As for flowers; yellow celandine, gorse and primroses and the bright white of blackthorn, like a maghesium flare in the sun everywhere. 

Where the hedges were still bare Travellers' Joy was draped over and under the branches. Strictly speaking it's the flowers that are called Travellors' Joy, and it was the seed heads, Old Man's Beard, that were decorating the hedges. Or clematis vitalbans if you like.

Music

How about 'Playful Pizzicato' by Benjamin Britten. Bursting with with energy and life, from his 'Simple Symphony'.

Not Sunday but Saturday 29th March

I managed to completely confuse myself on Saturday;

It all began to go wrong when I woke up, and thought 'what a lovely sunny start to Mothering Sunday'. I had a bit of a lie-in (because it was Mothering Sunday) and the slowly got dressed and made breakfast. As usual I read the news and some blogs on my phone, updated my current 'virtual hike' along the Jurrasic Coast

 

I love the views along the route, 'standing' at the top of cliffs and basking in the summer sun. I add my step count to the app every day at it moves my little marker along the path.

Then the moment arrived; I looked at the click on the bookshelf; 9am, the same as my phone, so BB must have already changed it. But, but, but, my watch also showed 9am. How could this be? Surely I hadn't changed it in my sleep?

My mother used to go downstairs and make herself toast and jam in the middle of the night in her sleep. It would only be when she saw the evidence the next morning; a plate and knife, and crumbs, the jam and the butter dish left out, that she would realise what she had done. (Unhelpful if you were trying to lose weight).

BB explained all; being only SATURDAY the clocks hadn't changed. I felt a bit disorganised all day.

The monthly tree pictures 

The Great Oakat the bottom of the garden

And, taken an hour later, the little apple tree beside it.

It is just coming into leaf.

Music

A lovely little piano piece by Dvorak called Silhouette in A major, full of sunshine and spring.