I don’t think of them as autumn and winter plants, but our hardy fuchsias have been flowering all month. I love their delicate hanging blooms and long stamens. They remind me of graceful ballerinas, en pointe, in bright tutu dresses. It has been difficult to capture the intensity of colour and dancing quality in stitch. My flowers feel a bit ploddy in comparison to the real thing; more Strictly Come Dancing then Royal Ballet. They are machined stitched with layers of sheer organza on spray dyed velvet, with a few metallic threads and beads for the bling factor. As always I have enjoyed the making, and they are number eleven in my Weavers Flower Journal collection.
Not quite finished, but here is a little cushion cover made from my finds at the car boot sale earlier this month. The bits of brocade fabric were cut from a child’s dressing up cloak, and the shiny threads have twisted up nicely into an edging cord and tassels. And I have learnt how to sew on shisha mirrors…
Bollywood here I come!
It’s a grey old autumn day today, with the sound of car tyres swishing on wet roads outside my window. It’s days like this when I am glad to remind myself of sunnier moments. Even though the starry eyed Micahelmas daisies in the garden are now over and gone, I have managed to capture a little of their magic in a stitched piece.
Perhaps not the most realistic of my Weavers Flower Journal textile pieces, but I have enjoyed the process of making it, and the mixture of hand and machine embroidery, with their different textures and effects.
This morning we drove to Badbury Rings through the beech avenue at Kingston Lacy.
The trees haven’t reached their full spectrum of autumn colours yet, but the view from the rings towards the coast was glorious with a shadowy Isle of Wight just visible on the horizon.
Closer to us there was much to see, fluffy seed heads and rosey hips, and delicate flowers at our feet.
As we circled the rings we also noticed tiny shells, now empty of the snails who had lived in them, but beautifully patterned and every one different,
So much to see….
Our fig tree has produced some lush, brown figs this year. I went without much hope yesterday to see if there were any left; it is a bit late in the season now. There were many small figs, hard and green, stiffly sticking to the branches. Definitely not for eating. But hidden under the fading leaves there were a few, heavy hanging fruits. Skins bronzing into a purple tinge, and slightly soft to squeeze. I found five, and brought them inside, where sliced open they revealed their sweet rosy velvet secrets.
Delicious with bread and cheese for lunch!