In the pink

When I was a girl living at home with my three sisters, I was very fond of Bird's Custard (so long as it didn't have lumps, but that needn't detain us here).   The most interesting thing about Bird's Custard Powder is that it was pink.   Until you added boiling milk, and then it turned yellow.  My wonderment at that bewildering alchemy is now rivalled by my discovery that you get pink dye from boiling green avocado skins.   True.  A little while ago Heike had some lovely bundles of fabrics for sale, dyed just this way, and I had to buy one to see for myself.   I loved the delicate subtle shades of Heike's samples and had a go at making my own avocado dye.   I achieved some of the same soft tones, but a silk carrier rod really absorbed the dye and became a rich dark burgundy.   And we ate the avocado.

In this little quilted piece, I wove some of the strips of Heike's fabric together and used a bit of my own dyed calico to form the background.

One or two of the applied pieces are from my Erosion Bundles, which had some of the same delicate 'watercolour' look about them.   There's a bit of that old rent book which had some pink smudges on it and a scrap of lace that took some of the dye from a piece of printed Chinese paper it was wrapped up with.    And then I dotted around some running stitches and sewed on an old fabric button.   It was my first attempt at anything of the sort and I'm hoping that Heike isn't groaning at the mess I've made of her lovely fabrics!   
And the first one to ask "but what's it for?" gets a poke in the eye....

Please have a seat

so long as you're ok with heights - 20 feet up a castle wall in Spain!

We had a few days away last week, in Catalonia in northern Spain.   It's an area we've been to several times, just for short breaks, and we don't normally stray very far from the shore.   But this time we went inland into the ancient volcanic region just south of the Pyrenees to the old town of Besalu.   You have to leave your car on the other side of the river and walk across the bridge and through the portcullis into the narrow cobbled streets and up to the market square.  

I managed to resist most of the wares displayed for tourists in the 'souvenir' shops, but I did buy a beautiful little wooden spoon from a girl smoking a fag while leaning over a counter of rustic hams and sausages.   She didn't look at me once during the transaction and her only communication was to tell me the price.   Such a contrast to the lovely pharmacist who gift-wrapped the insect repellent Richard bought!

on the door beam

swimming hole at Aigua Blava

I'd forgotten how much I love sea swimming - we spent ages floating around in the waves in this little cove by the hotel.   Richard thought we ought to have snorkels, but in a kind of way I'm quite happy not knowing what's going on beneath the surface!

a fisherman's front door

I just wanted to say that it's been a nightmare trying to upload and edit my photos using Paint.net, or to get access to Blogger or my hotmail account today, or do more than five minutes before the laptop crashed.   Grrrrr.   One of those days, eh?  

                                          Hope you're having a better one?