The pleasures of simple weaves, ragballs and clear, dry November days.
Years ago we rented a charming cottage on a waterfront estate.
My landlady gave me her old rose chintz draperies. How she knew I would want them, I don't recall; but she certainly had my number. Granny-roses-on-steroids, that pattern was; in the most egregious colour scheme of red, pink and green. I loved them. I cut them into strips, and simple-wove a rustic fabric which I then used to cover the seats of four beloved farmer chairs purchased at auction. They reminded me of Shaker chairs (and how pretty is this Shaker chair tape?)… a primitive oak relief carving on each chair back. (I've always been moderately obsessed with all things Shaker, but that's another post.)
For now let's just keep it simple. Going to take my primitive, rough and wonky weave off the board, stitch it to a stabilizer and sew up a simple small. A drawstring bag or a tote, an oven mitt or a pillow cover. Simple and small—better than not at all, my crafting credo these days.