My kind of patchwork
I have not been the blogger I’d like to be of late. When I started the Silverpebble blog I had one child, a bump and a tiny jewellery business. Having met them when I ran a couple of arts fairs, I started to visit Gina’s and Celia’s blogs out of curiosity, and thought ‘I could do that - I would like to do that’. There was space for it.
I now have two tots and the business is growing a little. This is wonderful news. When illness strikes and unexpected (but very welcome) flurries of business come in, this little place is neglected and visits to your blogs for little stories, thoughts, poems, beautiful pictures and gorgeous makes are put aside. Sometimes I do not have time to answer all your smile-giving comments, but believe me they’re very thankfully received and I relish the friendliness and encouragement - it’s wonderful, thankyou.
When I do not answer I’m probably at the dining room table beavering away with silver and pliers for a customer, or administering calpol. I am a fitful, patchy blogger - but I think as the little ones grow there will be a little more time and space for the consistency I’d like. Meanwhile my weeks as an involved blogger are happy ones - it’s certainly more of an enriching and surprising experience than I ever thought it would be - what a lovely place.
Oof, I’ve wanted to write that for a while…
I’ve wanted to post these pictures for a while too. The beautiful quilts and crochet blankets many of you make are covetable - many an evening I snuggle under a quilt that a friend made for me, browse through your blogs and imagine the neatly folded, colourful and very precious tower of quilts and blankets that I would build with them. I also have an imaginary ‘Princess and the pea’ moment with me snuggled under a giant pile of cosiness. Lovely.
Our bathroom splashback is the closest I’ve come to a spot of patchwork. Each of the tiles were once in a Victorian fireplace. They found their way to this little shop, where, eight months pregnant with Miss P1, I sat on the floor in a quiet corner, spread the tiles out and did some gleeful choosing. This is the kind of loveliness I was choosing from. I think the shopkeeper thought I was a bit dotty. There were so many tiles in this beautiful teal colour. The Victorians must have liked teal- I imagine it being all the rage back then. I thank them for that because I love it.
This tile has the most touchable texture - it is stroked lovingly on a regular basis,
…but this is my favourite design - hated by gardeners but loved by children …