There are generally many house-related questions swilling around my head at any time. Questions like ‘what should I hang up on the walls in the bathroom?’ and, related to that, ‘if I hang pictures up in the bathroom, will the frames buckle and warp, and the pictures be ruined?’. ‘Should we spend a bit of money on replacing the floor and worktops in the kitchen, or is it throwing good money after bad and instead we should just hold out for our entirely new kitchen which
will never happen will happen at some point?’ ‘What should I put inside the big square frames that I want to hang over the desk in the study?’
I suppose my old idea about ‘house dilemmas‘ is really just another way of framing a set of questions like ‘what shall I do about the alcove in the front room?’.
‘Could I crochet anything for the house?’ and ‘What on earth could I put in those shadow box frames?’
Realising that I’m constantly daydreaming about big and small ways to improve the house is no surprise. The moment when two questions joined up together, and provided the answer to each other, was rather more surprising. Because, of course, the shadow box frames were in fact just crying out – crying out I tell you – to be filled with crochet flowers. So, in turn, the questions ‘How can I justify buying wool when we are supposed to be budgetting?’ and ‘What shall I spend these John Lewis vouchers on that my lovely friend has given me for my birthday?‘ met in my head, melodiously answered each other, and melted away into peaceful happiness.
The frames were a slightly rash purchase from Wilkinsons, which I made a’hrm-ahem years ago. I had thought that shadow box frames were always very expensive, so when I found these ones for not-very-much each, I instantly stacked up three of them. ‘Aha!’ I thought to myself, ‘Useful and cheap shadow box frames! I can use these for… for… well, for anything really. I’m sure something will occur to me.’
And then they moved into the frames pile. And there they stayed.
Then of course I learnt to crochet. Did I mention I’ve learnt to crochet? I love it. I have a real yen to make huge enormous piles of rippling rainbow blankets, but in the meantime, I’ve come to particularly love crocheting things that are very, very SMALL. Little roses, for example, are pleasingly pretty, easy to attach to brooch backs and clips, and can be hooked up if not in minutes, then at least within an evening. Discrete, realistic tasks are evidently the order of the day, and crochet flowers definitely provide that.
I was wittering on about filling the frames with flowers at my local woolcraft group when my friend Jo said immediately, “Oh, lovely! One flower for each of your girls. You could write their dates of birth in the frames, too.” And the idea was so simple and lovely and brilliant that I was very sorry a) not to have thought of it myself and b) suddenly sorry not to have gone for flower-themed names so each girl could have a flower that literally represented them.
This one I have decided is a crochet gerbera for India. If only because I was pointing out a gerbera to her recently in a local cafe and she thought they were called ‘Ger-bleurgh!‘s which I found more than a bit amusing.
And this one, well, I guess it’s ‘another lovely flower’. You can see in this picture how I backed each frame with rather pretty, slightly speckly, artist’s paper, torn from a pad that I used to draw pastel pictures on in a former life.
And there you have it. You might notice we’ve finally replaced the lamp shades in the hall, and put up the paper stars that we had in our old house. The shades are from Habitat, and I adore them. I love how they mimic the stained glass star hanging up on the wall. And I always like things shaped like stars, in any case.
The pictures on the wall in the hall are fast becoming a collection of personalised, family-based artwork and images. This pleases me very much. (I have plans to add more to this collection, but they are at least partially under wraps at the moment, so I will blog more soon…)
And on that note, I will sign off. Pausing only to add that if you have wondered what the pinkish-reddish thing on the floor is, in the picture above, then allow me to let you know that it is a discarded sippy cup of milk. Of course. Of course it is.
Excuse me, I must go and tidy up.