Us S.L.A.P.P.E.R.S. [Stitchers, Lacemakers And Patchworkers Practise Embroidery Regularly in Suffolk] arranged to drive to Cottenham [near Cambridge] to see their latest Textile show. It is on every year, - a couple of local groups exhibit but more exciting there are many many stalls, attended by encouraging people frantic to sell us threads and fabrics, so we look forward to it immensely.
Unhappily life has a habit of slapping your face just when you are smiling cheerfully, Isabel the tutor who taught most of us to take up a needle with menaces, found her husband dead, and the funeral was Friday.
L was nominated to represent us.
Then M's son who was appearing as Wishee Washee in pantomime and suddenly needed her to supervise the refreshments.
R's daughter decided to visit and could push the heavy furniture into new places for her........................ A offered to take me on Saturday, but I decided i just had to Do It! enough of interference from Fate, however weighty.
The colours were very therapeutic.
The only fat fly in the face cream was that I had a migraine and was in a very bad temper. I had already taken 2 magic pills on previous days and had only one left of the rest of my allowance for the rest of the month, so I staggered around growling clutching paracetamol and watching the clock until i could take another dose - and forced healing cash into willing hands.
I also bought some paper covered wire, quite thick so that it holds its own shape, from which to make more figures or even "vessels". We each have to make one for TAGS summer exhibition. It could be anything from a bowl to a pencil holder i suppose, I am thinking of a pregnant woman with a lid that lifts from her stomach, but what to put inside?
Then there was this Organza stuff that the printer, it is claimed won't eat and get indigestion. And some blue and purple dyed scrim, that was perhaps a mistake, but beautiful colours and cheapish.
And finally a pack of dyes and brief instructions. I have a book but I can't concentrate long enough to get to the end of the chapter.
This is some of what I carried home in triumph after a mediocre lunch at
Retired Person,who had filled the idle hours walking Hatters, disapproves of the beer, but any port in a storm, oasis in a desert, etc.
We drank a toast to Isabel in the hopes that the colour would return to her life in time.