Well we found it- our holiday home that is -along the endless sunken lanes of Devon where your view is limited to tightly packed trees and plants teeming with life and colour. It is oh-so-easy to believe in the fairy folk in Devon. Then you round a corner and see a tree shaped like a faun with a pan-pipe dancing out of the high hedgerow and at last, there it is: our temporary home standing on a headland -but how I wish it was ours all year round . . . more than enough room for us and our friends and all the assorted children. Just look at our beautiful bedroom -you could hear the sea lapping against the rocks as you lay in bed.
The bathroom was fab too and every night when we showered and bathed we left a ton of sand and shale at the bottom of the tub.
This, however was my favourite spot. Look I almost match the curtains! The window seat was perfect for reading, playing cards and enjoying a pink gin (all missing from this picture). Yes, I had romantic ideas about painting dramatic seascapes and my friend Sue found a perfect nook upstairs for writing the novel of a lifetime a la Daphne du Maurier. Maybe next time . . .
On the way home I had hoped to meet up at a textile fair in Honiton with Donna but alas- she couldn't make it -we were both disappointed. (We WILL get together at some point.) Even so, the fair was still great, full of lovely stuff which I couldn't justify buying as I am a lazy seamstress. But I found two crochet blankets, one for £1 and the other £4 and some pieces of fabric which one day, hopefully, will be used in the patchwork quilt I started in 1985. Hmmm -who am I kidding!
