What a week.

Hello

What a week.
I have just returned from Woolfest with Margaret who drove, and am sitting reflecting on the past week.
It corresponds with this week last year when I didn't get to Woolfest so I have done better this year. And yes the 'big clean' has been done again.
Plus a major paint job on the kitchen. (Why do these things always get done in a rush ?)
But more later.
So, there I was, cleaning washing ironing vacuuming shopping ironing ironing ironing and there was a knock on the door, and the postman handed me a hoooge parcel from Daisie Davies
She said she had something for me and we couldn't manage a meet up because I was so busy so she very kindly sent it.

I couldn't imagine what it could be in this massive package...but look....can you read it?
Harris Tweed !
Its a thing of beauty, a solid wooden hanger with an engraved brass plate.

Just imagine my tweets hanging from that when I do a craft fair.
Thank you so much dear Daisie, I know you've had a sad week. It so kind of you.

Later that same day.........


My Fellpaintings arrived. This is a terrible photo but I can assure you it is a beautiful painting and I love it and its companion.

Sometime midweek I learnt that I had won this little chap in Michelle's giveaway which she ended early having received only 4 comments. I told her to try again but she very generously insisted I should have him so I'm very excited.

So onto Thursday.(.oh I nearly forgot our romantic evening out on Wednesday taking the old fridge to the tip followed by a supermarket shop, then on Thursday morning taking my elderly neighbour for her podiatry appointment)

On Thursday at 4 pm our first guests of the week arrived.
Our tutor for The Embroidery 2000 workshop on Friday, Carol Naylor and her husband.
This is a small sample of her work. I treated myself .


We had an enjoyable evening together, a meal and a walk, and plenty of wine, and the following day our group workshop in the studio on the bank of the river with a gorgeous garden, where we sat for lunch.

We all made lots of noise with our sewing machines and Carol was so generous with her techniques and materials.

Mine's the little wobbly one on the back row .

Friday afternoon, home, bit of ironing, change beds, quick clean round in prepapration for our next guest who I had never met before, a folk musician who wrote one of my favourite songs.
My husband brought him from the Traditions festival and I met him this morning briefly before I rushed out to Woolfest.

What a great day.
The first person I met was the lovely and talented Jenny Pepper.
The weather was just a bit sultry and I think I was fairly purple most of the day.



But other people were other colours!

I watched a young woman shear 4 young female sheep and one big ram in about 20 minutes.


The fleece was snowy white and beautiful and can you believe it could be bought for £3?


I spent a little bit more than £3!
I bought some lovely dyed silk tops from Oliver Twists.




I had intended to but large amounts of merino tops but I always buy less than I want .
I think I'm intimidated by the volume of it.



I got the colours I need for my next project.
I also met a lot of friends, sold a lot of brooches (Kandj I can't reply to you,I don't recognise the name,terrible memory,but thank you!)and saw a lot of beautiful things.
But, I have decided, that just because you can make something from wool, doesn't mean you necessarily should.
Cheers.

Surprises

My wool supplies were running down so on Sunday afternoon I decided a trip across the Pennines to Wentworth was in order.
It was a lovely day just right for a spur of the moment jaunt.

I persuaded Margaret to join me and she brought her friend Forbes who was extremely bossy when I went too fast, but told us when to turn right and left so we didn't get lost.
(As Margaret will testify, I have no sense of direction and couldn't find my way out of a paper bag)

We arrived with only one 'ambiguous direction' moment, at Wingham Wool Works, the home of all things fleecy and fibrous..
(Click on the pictures to have a nosey at the goods.)



Behind this green door, (Wentworth Green of Course) lies an Aladdins cave of wool, yarn, silk, and everything one's heart could desire.








I loved these old wool hampers piled up at the back.



I spent a lot of money!

This morning, another sunny warm Spring day, I heard a parcel arrive on the doormat.
When I opened it I found this, pink tissue, patterned sellotape and a lovely typewritten message



with a pretty little sticker on the bottom , unmistakeably Viv of Hens Teeth.



Look what was inside!

Vintage tweed.

It just whispers 'Vintage' to you..it has a beautiful soft, not exactly worn, or faded, but just old -fashioned nostalgic style.


Its absolutely gorgeous.
Thank you so much Viv.

The sun doesn't travel round to the back of the house until the afternoon so I was quite surprised when I went out into the garden to see these bright cheerful and robust Anemone Blanda thrusting themselves up into the sunshine for all they were worth.


I'd forgotten we had them.

But with the warmer weather comes other less welcome garden activity. The sun lights up the tell tale trails.

The winter ceasefire stops here.

The mollusc war begins anew.


There was someone else taking advantage of the spring sunshine from inside the house.


Oblivious to my macro lens.

Jools.

(Jowls of)

Don't for heavens sake click on this picture..unless you want nightmares.

goodies from 'Abroad'

Look what came in the post last week.
Such a wonderful package even before I opened it. I only know about brown parcels.Didn't know you could get gorgeous bright ones like this.
A look at the label gave me a clue


Inside it was stuffed with lovely papers,


and an Arlee Original

Some fantastically soft copper foil

and gorgeous silver paper

There was also a huge bundle of velvets and some paper that looked like tea bag paper but I'm sure it can't be.

I approach it with timidity as I am not such an experimenter as arlee..the noted 'Mad Textile Scientist' who puts my playing safe to shame.

Thank you so much Arlee, it brightened my week and it was very generous and thoughtful of you.

There's nothing like that first day at home after a holiday and it was just perfect to cheer me up.

Marrakech in March 9: The aftermath.

(If you have clicked the picture to read about Marrakech, scroll down to the bottom of the page to start with the post there called 'Marrakech 1' and work your way up to this one. There are 9 altogether))


Despite worrying about not being able to haggle in the souks, I managed to come home with a healthy cross section of all they had to offer.


My room mate said I was talking in my sleep.
'Too much choice!'
But after my initial purchase of a carpet,yes..I succumbed, and the above gorgeous green basket at knock down prices, I was away.
A 'Silver' mirror, bought in a flurry without much choosing and I am sorry its almost the same as one my friend bought a year earlier, but once we looked at it the bargaining began.

At the carpet warehouse I thought I would not be able to able to afford one, and indeed, when I saw my hearts desire and was told it was 'Only one hundred and fifty quids' I said as much.


But I needn't have worried as I eventually paid one sixth of that.

Its beautiful, woven with silk in all my favourite colours.

But I forgot to ask if its a kilim and where it was woven.

These little beads must have taken someone ages to make, and I do feel somewhat ashamed of bargaining till they became affordable.

Then I spotted the 'Berber' bag. So unique and so decorative.

There were not many places selling these so I was excited to have something original.

A deal was struck and we were both happy.

These wooden utensils are so lovely as was the maker who did not ask a ridiculously high price so I paid the price he asked.

In the Berber pharmacy we lost all sense of value..was it the result of the shoulder massage or the hard sell?

We bought cold sore cream 'Better than Zovirax' they also had a product 'Better than Immodium' and, while not exactly 'a pill for every ill,' they at least had a 'bag of mysterious organic material for every ill.' Their fingers whizzed over the calculator keypads and some unexpectedly high numbers appeared and we handed over our Dirhams by the hundred.

But somehow, like the bottle of Ouzo you bought because you drank it in a water's edge taverna on a Greek Island, does not taste quite the same on a cold wet day in Lancashire, the creams and rose cologne and block of fragrant amber that smelled so delicious in Morocco, smell sickly and overpowering back home.

An unexpected find for my two addicted-to-irony grown up sons was this.

A train set.

Tootling round the little track were, in one carriage weilding a huge rocket launcher..

George dubya,

and in the carriage in front?

Guess who?

Well I've never seen one before I just had to get them one each.

Smaller trophies were given (for a little monetary consideration )

A piece of mosaic from the pile being cut by a man at the Saadian Tombs, and the weaver in the picture in the textile post allowed me to buy one of his spools of cactus fibre threads.

On the return journey, with a baggage allowance of 20kg I hit 19.9!

I also bought some leather slippers for my husband, which when opened almost made us high with the smell of the glue, and two woolly hats which are far too big for anyone, a lovely pair of woven scarves, and some Moroccan pastries at the airport.

Ever so hygenic.

He put on a plastic glove to help, and proceeded to hand out samples with the other hand.

Since I got home I have made some felt beads for my friend like the ones here. It has made me realise how much time and effort they take and I feel rather bad about haggling.

These aren't even as good as the ones in the soukh.

As well as all these treasures I brought home some lovely memories and its been a pleasure to share them here. I will print these posts so I can keep them as my album and journal of a very special experience.

I didn't really expect anyone to be very interested so having your comments has been a bonus.

Thank you.

The 'Prime mover' in making this little trip happen is my friend Margaret who I want to encourage to resume her lovely blog.

Thank you Margaret, for getting me to Marrakech.

PS

watch this for a very antiseptic but evocative view.

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