I have just returned from my walk around the farm. The cow is turned out on home meadow; her angry bellowing has ceased but has been replaced by a long low moan, she came over to me, stretched out her neck, raised her head to the sky and softly moaned. Am I too sentimental? Tears sprung to my eyes.
But, moving swiftly on; the wood violets still have not put in an appearance, periwinkles in profusion, but no violets. Snowdrops, usually going over by now, are still the prominent flower in the woods. The violets leaves are there so I guess it won’t be long.
I completed the main, intarsia, part of the fish boarder last night. I have blocked it out but it’s still not dry enough to work on. Now I want to work out a way of adding sea weed and plants, and I also need to embellish the fish to make them come ‘alive’. Weeds and fish are running through my head and will be all morning, not a pleasant thought for the faint-hearted!
I shall join up the main part of the coat today, and write up the pattern for it. Then I must think about tonight, I always knit in the evenings, I can knit and watch T V at the same time. In fact, when I hurt my back some months ago I discovered that I could knit lying down; and in a traffic jam I discovered that I can knit in the dark. I realise that these are not life-saving life skills, and should probably not be placed on the national curriculum, but they keep this designer happy.
The foot lady (chiropodist) came yesterday, she complimented me on my soft feet, is it a cream I’m using, or endless hours with a pumice stone? No, just wearing my wellington boots without socks each morning; she was unimpressed and, I thought, just a tad sceptical.
So the next project, a flick through the sketch book, a jumper I think, I’ve made so many jackets of late; but what to choose? I look at my yarn supply with so many mouth-watering colours. Ah, as I sit here my walk back across Sheep Walk toward the Hall this morning pops into my mind. The Hall is 18th century and has a Dutch, blue glazed, pan-tile roof, the tiles look exquisite in the sun, the bricks are tiny only about 7cm in depth and a pretty creamy yellow, they come originally from the Holkham Hall estate (and are almost impossible to get hold of if repairs are needed). A wing runs east to west from the back of the Queen Anne part of the building, this is deemed to be older, the site was probably once just a group of cottages; this part is roofed in Norfolk pan-tiles which are almost terracotta in hue. So that’s it then, out with the graph paper new design coming up; I like the way the tiles lay and overlap, forming patterns of stripes and zig-zags, can’t write more about this now, have to get it down on paper!