Photo shoot


We’re having a photo shoot here this afternoon.  No big guns here though, just me and my little camera and him and his bigger one.  The choir are putting together a CD and a cover is needed, so armed with a few bits and pieces we put a little still life together on the dining room table and flash-bang-wallop.




The Photoshop Expert has already changed the colour of the blue silk drape to the correct “uniform” colour of turquoise and all is coming together nicely.  Watch this space for the end result!




I’ve been away this week, at our college, teaching a group of would-be craft judges.  It’s great to be with like-minded people whose interests and enthusiasms are in line with my own, who share their ideas and experience so generously.


There was one sad moment, however.  I was lucky to have my “home room” to sleep in, the one furnished and maintained by Gloucestershire Federation.  When I returned to it late on Wednesday evening, I had my phone in my hand, reading messages and emails as I walked in.  I had received the sad news that Shirley Owen, an immensely talented needlewoman and friend died last Friday and the WI network was sorting out arrangements for the wake to follow her funeral next Wednesday.  As I txted to say, yes, of course I’ll do what I can, I unhooked the tieback of the curtain and my eyes fell on the label, written in Shirley’s own handwriting.  It was a timely reminder of the many things Shirley herself did to make our little room more comfortable and the sight of her distinctive script brought back memories of some of the fun times we shared.




Thankfully, there was no time to dwell on sadness and my mind was soon focussed elsewhere.  On rag dolls (clothes to be made to dressmaking standards), on teddies (with secure and properly padded joints) and garden pots (a hole for drainage would be a good idea).




We worked our way along tables filled with all kinds of hand made things, accepting the challenge to find encouraging things to say about every last soft toy bunny (which had glass eyes so couldn’t be a soft toy at all).




Comments were written and winners found, sometimes a cuddle was sneaked in along the way with a long time favourite who inhabits the college craft cupboards.




Finally, when there was neither time nor energy to say much more, it was time for home.  However comfortable the Gloucestershire room is, there is nothing like my own bed!

So, a weekend at home, catching up, putting things away and generally getting things back into place.  Oh, and designing a CD cover, of course.




What do you reckon?


Harvest time