This is a reworking of a post from a few years ago. Sometimes it’s good to revisit and re-do things…..

For over 2 decades November has been my darkest month. November is haunted by my past so when the inevitable gloom descends on me in late autumn I slip easily into my November melancholia. As the colours fade to grey outside I view my life through an achromatic filter for several weeks until the saturation levels are turned up again by mid December. But this year I have been determined to redefine my November mood and I’ve done it with a little help from the Stoic philosophers.

The 3^rd Thursday in November is World Philosophy Day (yes I realise I’m a week late but stay with me on this one.) so what better excuse to start enjoying November again?

I LOVE a bit of philosophy. Rummaging around in other people’s heads is one of my favourite activities and whilst the past can never be re-written, perceptions can change. Past events can be accepted and acceptance can, with a little work, be moulded into amor fati; not just the acceptance of fate  – but the love of it.

As the Greek Goddess of Fate, Clotho, spins the thread of our own lives we can either complain that it’s not good enough or we can accept it and love it for all it’s flaws.

“Don’t seek for everything to happen as you wish it would, but rather wish that everything happens as it actually will – then your life will flow well.” Epictetus

So that’s basically; some things in life just can’t be changed and therefore, aren’t worth worrying about. So stop worrying.

21^st Century Stoics are a tribe growing in numbers, particularly among millennials and the so called Snowflake Generation and I love that the generation labled as flaky, over sensitive and unable to cope with views other than their own are embracing this wisdom.

Winter comes every year. That never changes. The melancholia of early winter brings with it the promise of icy beauty, shimmering landscapes and the anticipation of those first, exquisitely formed snowflakes……

In a cloud, a water droplet freezes and takes on a six fold crystalline formation. It shoots out six radials and starts to travel through the cloud. As it travels it bumps into other particles, it moves through different temperatures and humidity’s continuously melting and reforming into complex asymmetrical shapes.

The radials, or arms, each form independently and most snowflakes are visibly irregular; it is estimated that less than 0.01% of snowflakes are perfectly symmetrical. In contrast, it is almost impossible to find an image of an asymmetrical snowflake. It seems that even a snowflake can’t escape our prejudice against perceived imperfection – regular ones look nicer in photos.

It is well documented that it is almost impossible to find two identical snowflakes. In the late 19^th century Wilson Alwyn Bently  searched for two icy twins as he documented images of over 5000 snowflakes, captured under a microscope. Images from Snowflake Bently.com

There is something very compelling about the imperfect uniqueness of a single snowflake that makes it the perfect motif for home-made Christmas decorations, and the starting point for a new crochet project. Paper cutting is perhaps, unlike bronze sculpture, abstract expressionism and landscape painting, not perceived to be a proper, grown up, artistic endeavour.

So here’s my advise, if you are on the receiving end of withering looks, patronising glances and quiet tutting when you pick up your paper scissors, consider what Henry Matisse, Rob Ryan or Tord Boontje might have to say, then snip away and watch the confetti fall. Image 1. Image 2. Image 3

How To Make a Paper Cut-Out Snow Flake.

I used large A3 sized sheets of paper, but A4 sized printer paper would be fine. First fold in half lengthwise and mark the central point on the folded edge with a small crease. With the folded edge at the bottom fold both edges in so that they are overlapping (see photos) and your paper is folded into 3 equal potions. Fold again bringing all the folded edges together. Crease well. Cut off the untidy bits at the top of your folded ‘dart’.

Now draw your design on the paper. This might take some planning. The most important thing is that your design touches both folded edges and also runs continuously from top to bottom. It might help to shade in the areas you are going to cut away. Then snip with a sharp pair of scissors (I used nail scissors) and unfold. Give it  a press – and your done! I have to admit to getting rather obsessed by the paper cutting.   Oh – and if you prefer to crochet your Christmas decorations you’ll find a sweet little snowflake pattern in my latest newsletter – you can register here:  The Mercerie Post

“Are you coming out to play?”

When was the last time anyone asked you that? I’m guessing it was some time ago, when you were very young.

This question is usually delivered by someone with grubby hands and bruised legs. It isn’t a formal invitation or a loaded question. It isn’t a double entendre or open for interpretation. It’s only ever a direct, uncomplicated invitation to escape to another place. A place where you can poke things, play with things, try things on, try things out, observe, join in, succeed gloriously, fail abysmally  and discover things about yourself, other people, and the world.

I’ve been thinking about the importance of play rather a lot recently and I’m curious to  know if our own childhood play activities have something to teach us as adults.

Can you remember how you used to play as a child? And can you remember how it felt?

As a child my play often involved me role playing a fugitive staked out in the woods surviving on stinging nettles and acorns with a rifle made of sticks strapped to my hip. It was a shapeless narrative, punctuated by trips home for tea and episodes of Blue Peter, but it felt exciting, empowering and uninhibited.

Other times I’d be a gypsy living on my own in my small but exquisite caravan fashioned from a wobbly wooden clothes horse and the sheets I’d pulled off the washing line.

I always played an outsider, and I liked the way it felt.

Play is all about escapism. During play you can wander aimlessly into new, imaginative places in a parallel universe inhabited by alternative versions of yourself. But those imagined spaces  aren’t easy to access as an adult – a virtual reality headset won’t take you there, it requires a much more proactive approach and you need to leave behind all the people and things that keep you bound to convention.

Convention is that thing that monitors your thoughts and actions. It’s constantly editing and curating your life so that it fits a familiar and acceptable aesthetic.

In the land of imaginative play there are no conventions. The main stream diverges as we dig out new tributaries – just for the sheer pleasure of getting our hands dirty and watching how, and where, the water flows.

So when did you stop your childish play?

Probably, like me, by the time you became a teenager, when hyper self awareness kicked in and you learned a new set of rules designed to help you function in an adult world.  When you learned the value of ‘cool’

‘Coolness’  (replace with any alternative fashionable lexicon) is a currency much in demand when you’re a young adult. It grants you entry into a world where all the tributaries you dug as a child are judged and critiqued, then refined and re-routed to converge with other peoples to create the main stream along which you’re likely to be carried for the rest of your days.

It’s hard work not being cool. It’s hard work swimming against the stream that will become a tidal wave by the time you’re fully grown.

The artist Grayson Perry talks a lot about the importance of imaginative play and avoiding the mainstream. He says;

” Coolness is a form of orthodoxy, it’s a set of rules already coalesced around something. Being uncool is a powerful creative force”

So it’s no surprise that children, with their untamed imaginations and uninhibited play,  are the most powerful creative force. It’s a fact.

There’s a much discussed ‘creativity test’ that was carried out in the late 1960’s by the scientist George Land who, in 1965 had founded a research and consulting institute to study the enhancement of creative performance.

NASA had approached Land to develop a test that would help them select the most innovative engineers and scientists to work with them and the test proved to be very successful. Land decided to try the test out on children – with remarkable results. (frustratingly it’s impossible to find any examples of the test papers online…..)

The research study tested the creativity of 1,600 children ranging in ages from three-to-five years old. He later re-tested the same children at 10 years, and again at 15 years of age. These are the ‘creativity scores’ he collected with the results being the percentage of people scoring what Land called “Creative Genius Level”

• At 5 years old: 98%
• At 10 years old: 30%
• At 15 years old: 12%
• Same test given to 280,000 adults (average age of 31): 2%

So, let me get that right…..98% of 5 year olds are a creative genius – and only 2% of adults are?!

What’s going on here?

Isn’t a genius someone born with extraordinary  gifts? Strange and unusual ‘other’ people like Albert Einstein, with a head so full of big ideas there’s no room to remember where you put the house keys.

Land explained the notion of creative genius by describing 2 different types of thinking processes ;

1.  Convergent Thinking. Where you judge ideas, criticise them, refine them, combine them and improve them, all of which happens in your conscious thought. That’s you re-routing your tributaries so they all meet up with the main stream. A neat and tidy ending.
2.  Divergent Thinking: Where you imagine new ideas, original ones which are different from what has come before but which may be rough to start with, and which often happens subconsciously. And that’s you, as a child, playfully carving out tributaries and watching as they trickle away from the main stream, making a right old mess and happy as Larry. (as my mother would have said)

Children, it seems, are brilliant at divergent thinking. They are able to let their minds run free, imagine new things and be completely original with no notion of editing, evaluating or visualising of practical application or end result and it’s this ability for divergent thinking that fuels their creativity.

Adults, on the other hand, well we tend to fast track our thoughts to end products or practical solutions , imagining how our ideas might be received or rejected before we’ve given ourselves the chance to fully explore an idea.

We’re there with the buckets of cold water ready to put out the flames before we’ve even seen how beautifully they can burn.

At school we are generally taught to use both kinds of thinking at the same time but Land suggests that people need to split their thinking processes into these two different states in order to work more effectively.

Apparently the team at Facebook can be found playing with Lego during the day, an activity that helps spark creativity and divergent thinking. The result is that employees  can then focus more effectively on the tasks that requires more concentrated, convergent thinking.

So if, as adults, we’ve all forgotten how to be a creative genius, is it possible to relearn these skills?

Seth Godin (the brilliant entrepreneur, writer, thinker, blogger…) believes the answer is yes – and frankly if he thinks the answer is yes, I’ll go with that.

Godin says that it’s the emotional commitment, being prepared to get it wrong, make mistakes, put in the hours, try things out, doing the hard work, again and again and again that will set us on the right track for being a creative genius.

It’s not a genetic lottery, about having the right parents or going to the right school. It’s about separating out those 2 ways of thinking – oh, and a whole heap of tenacity.

If you find yourself looking at other people’s creative work and convincing yourself that you could never do anything like that , here’s what you can do.

1. Ring the bell for playtime!

Keep your materials of choice at the ready – at all times. Not in a ‘special’ place, but just there – on the table, in a basket, arranged alarmingly all over the living room floor, anywhere so long as you can access them as soon as you get that creative urge.

And then just play – with abandon. Doodle, scribble, write whatever pops into your head, cut things out, stick things down, glue things together (small children spend 50% of their playtime constructing things ) and don’t judge, edit or refine. Try not to fast track to convergent thinking, it doesn’t have to look good – you’re not going to post it on Instagram, and no-one has to like it.

The important thing here is that you’re doing something.

(Creating a new Pinterest board doesn’t count as a creative activity)

2. OK, settle down now.

When you feel ready you can pull out all that stuff you did, look at it, think about it, fiddle with it, tweak it and maybe start moulding some ideas. If it’s not working for you – go back to play mode, but don’t worry, some projects seem to present themselves fully formed, and others will require patience, discipline and persistence.

I’ve discovered that just the act of playing fuels our inner genius and the really important message is to not confuse convergent and divergent thought processes during playtime.

So are you coming out to play?

We could do some painting, play with some colours and let our inner genius shine.

If you think that sounds like fun, come and join me on my next Colour Workshop at Norfolk Yarn.

Playtime’s always better with friends.

Do you find the subject of natural dyeing fascinating – but also a little strange and mysterious?

Unlike the neat little sachets of Dylon they seem to hold a strange alchemy requiring  specialist knowledge that can only be gained through years of experimentation. Not for the likes of us dye dabblers.

I always imagined natural dyeing techniques would entail long walks in the country gathering baskets full of seasonal flowers, berries and other natural dye plants that I would have no means of identifying, followed by careful weighing and preparation of strange archaic substances, and perhaps even the wave of a mystic wand.

Why would anyone in the 21st century even want to boil up handfuls of grubby vegetables just to dye a few grams of wool a rather grubby shade of beige?

I guess the answer is- the magnetic and irresistible power of curiosity. It’s that voice in your head that begins every sentence with;

 “I wonder what would happen if….”

and ends it with;

” no, I can’t package it, sell it, affiliate market it or drop ship it. I just want to do it!”

So as someone prone to curiosity, and with a desire to explore new territory, in September I rather recklessly announced to one of my textile classes that we would be doing a natural dye project this term. And no, I’ve never done it before.

So in this blog post I’ll give you a little insight into how it is possible to create a palette of the most beautiful coloured yarns using simple ‘kitchen sink’ methods – and a class of curious minds.

We worked with plant materials that were easy to find. Some came from our gardens, and kitchens; some came from the supermarket, and the woad was bought online. But none of it was difficult to find.

We had no recipe book, just a vague idea of what we thought might happen.

I should probably also say that, for me, one of the joys of this project was the delight of discovery and the freedom of exploration.  The colours achieved are non repeatable, I can’t predict how colour fast they’ll be and I can’t really explain the chemistry involved.

I can, however, tell you that the process was intriguing, the colours are beautiful and the stories we uncovered about the history of natural dyes were surprising and compelling.

For me the subject of ‘textiles’ has always been the subject of ‘everything’; history, geography, science, art – textiles can be used as the vehicle for navigating a route through all of these things, and the history of natural dyes has much to tell us about….well, pretty much everything.

So this is what we did – and what we learnt along the way.

   1. MORDANTING

We started with around 500gms of undyed aran weight wool which we wound into small skeins of about 10gms each.

We washed the skeins in warm soapy water and rinsed them well.

We used Alum (which we bought online) and cream of tartar (which we bought in the supermarket)  to mordant the wool. Mordanting ensures the dye fixes to the fibres.

We allowed 1tsp of allum and 1tsp of cream of tartar for every 100gms of yarn.

Remember, this is my ‘suck it and see’ recipe!

Because we only had large kitchen saucepans to work with we decided to split up into 4 groups at this point. Each group dissolved 3-4 teaspoons of alum, and cream of tartar, in a cup of hot water then added this to a pan containing enough water to cover the skeins and stirred  well to make sure everything was completely dissolved.

Then we added the wet wool to the pan – each group added 12 or 13 skeins. We brought this to simmering and continued to simmer for about an hour. Then we turn off the heat and left it over night.

The next day we were ready to dye. We didn’t rinse the mordanted skeins……and what was left of the mordant bath was disposed of in the sink with lots of running water

   2. PH LEVELS AND A LITTLE BIT OF SCIENCE

The PH level of the dye bath affects the colour of the dye so we experimented with adjusting these levels using vinegar and citric acid to make the dyes more acidic, and washing soda to make the dyes more alkaline. We used litmus papers to test the PH levels and found that generally 1 or 2 teaspoons was enough to significantly change the levels – but also, too much of either additive had a detrimental effect on the handle of the wool.

For each plant material that we used, we made up a neutral dyebath, an acidic bath and an alkaline bath; aiming to achieve three different colour variations from one natural dye source.

   3. MAKING THE VEGETABLE DYE BATHS

We were very kindly donated a huge bag of yellow onion skins and we used these to make our first dyes as I had read that this is the easiest plant material to work with and usually give excellent results.

Working in 3 groups we each filled a pan about one third full of onion skins (no weighing or measuring for us!), filled it about two thirds full of cold water and heated it to boiling point.

We added citric acid to one pan and washing soda to another – the third remained neutral. We let it simmer for about an hour then took it off the heat and left it over night.

The next day the dye baths were strained/sieved to remove the plant material.

This is pretty much what we did to prepare all the natural dyebaths, – we just filled the pans one third full with plant material – chopped up if we thought it necessary.

Relying on kind donations by teachers and parents, and whatever  the students brought in with them that particular day we experimented with a good range of plant and vegetable dyes including……

Yellow onion skin, elderberry, blackberry, sloeberry, plum, red cabbage, horsetail, dahlia.

    4. DYEING THE WOOL

We added 2 or 3 skeins of wet mordanted wool to each dye bath and brought the temperature up to boiling then allowed the dyebath to simmer for around 40 minutes, gently stirring occasionally, then took it off the heat and left it overnight.

The next day the skeins were removed from the dyebath and rinsed thoroughly. (you could wash the wool at this stage -but we didn’t)

This was the most exciting bit; examining the final results. Did they measure up to our expectations? Were they disappointing? Were they surprising? Did we like the colour? How did the dye bath effect the handle of the wool?

We came to the conclusion that the more acidic dyebaths yielded  pinker/redder tones and the more alkaline the dyebath the more the colour inched towards green.

We also discovered that if you tip about 10 teaspoons of washing soda into a dye bath when instructed to add just one – the result is a nasty weak and scratchy yarn!

So that’s it really – we did this with all the plant materials we collected and achieved the most beautiful collection of colours. Some were surprising; the dahlia flowers produced the most vibrant shade of yellow – a lovely brilliant sunshiny colour. The red cabbage yielded a pretty pink, a lilac and a sage green and the berries all gave up subtle variations on beige and pinky brown

DYEING WITH WOAD

I decided to buy in the woad as I was keen for everyone to experience the magical oxidising process – where the materials change from murky yellow to brilliant blue as they make contact with the oxygen in the air – and I didn’t want to disappoint by using a less ‘tried and tested’ source of woad. I bought ours from here, it came with excellent instructions on how to use it and it didn’t disappoint!

It was easy to use and really did produce the most intense indigo blues that added a depth and richness to our natural dye colour palette.

THE COLOUR STORIES

Throughout the dye process we also learnt about how the history of natural dyes illuminates our history books with stories that date back to Greek legend and span the breadth of the globe.

We learnt why purple was such a coveted colour. None of our experiments produced  strong purple shades and historically this was the most difficult colour to achieve.

For centuries, until the discovery of the first synthetic dye the mucus of a particular Mediterranean sea snail yielded the best bright and colour fast purple dye. But it took 10 000 snails to yield just 1 gram of dyestuff and it was so expensive only the very rich and powerful could afford to wear it. We imagined Cleopatra’s ships with their brilliant purple sails billowing in the wind, and Julius Caesar returning to Rome wearing a vivid violet toga.

Throughout history purple has signified extreme wealth and power. It’s been such a provocative colour that wearing it could even be viewed as high treason with the penalty of death.

We learnt that in Britain, before the introduction of synthetic dyes, our 3 staple dyestuffs were Weld (yellow) Woad (blue) and Madder (red) and these three colours were mixed and overdyed to create a whole spectrum of colours.

Weld is said to produce the most brilliant yellow – and when over dyed with woad it creates the brightest forest green; the green apparently worn by Robin Hood and his Merry Men. This colour was known as Lincoln Green and it has been immortalised through hundreds of story books and films over the years.

We learnt about woad; our native ‘indigo’ dye which was used by Ancient Britons not only to dye textiles, but to dye whole bodies in preparation for war with the invading Romans. Imagining the fear and confusion ignited by an army of blue Celtic Iceni led by a woman with flaming red hair, we also discovered that the Celts knew a bit about medicine too as woad has natural astringent properties so it served two purposes as they marched in to battle.

Madder was the dye we didn’t get to try – so we are missing a good red from our colour palette. But we did lean that, strictly speaking, the colour yielded by madder is more orange than a true red but the concept – and consequently the word,  orange didn’t exist in Britain until the introduction of oranges  (the fruit). So it seems that a colour can’t exist in our consciousness  until it has been named.

THE COLLABORATIVE CROCHET PROJECT

So , after several days of dyeing, and story telling, we had a collection of unique, unrepeatable, extremely beautiful coloured yarns to work with and we started to make  our granny squares. I had already decided that a crochet afghan blanket would be the perfect way to use all those small skeins of coloured yarn.

I love collaborative projects. I love that everyone, whatever their skills or commitment level, is able to contribute what they can. Every small piece represents an individual and the finished work represents the group.

Some of the ‘squares’ were less than square – and required a little ‘help’ to straighten then up. Some were very large, some were a little holey, some were perfectly executed- but they were all inherently charming and I took them home over Christmas to finish piecing them together.

This is the finished blanket, it’s been trimmed, blocked and pressed – and I love it!

At first glance it looks like any other conventional crochet granny square blanket, but it is so much more than that. It is a window into the past and a brilliant reminder of the colours our ancestors experienced.

This blanket is a collection of stories about our past told in full Technicolour and a testament to the collective curious mind.

 

The Beret.

Yes, I know it’s a bit of a fashion cliché – but sometimes I rather like clichés. They have a certain old fashioned charm to them that can make a refreshing change to the politicised spin that’s constantly streamed into our lives.

My love of the beret stretches beyond the French stereotype and the image of the romantic artist.

I am fascinated with the beret’s seductive versatility as it’s become the headgear of choice for hundreds of international paramilitary groups. That such a small and innocuous accessory can take on so many different meanings and associations  shows how entrenched an object and it’s signals can become in our psyche.

Fashion is one big glorious mash up; looting from everywhere, stealing from anyone and then brazenly parading it’s booty.

The beret is one mashed up, mixed up accessory to the crime.

With a vague and blurry notion that there are some conventions, the beret plays with the rules; both mocking, and paying homage to freedom fighters, peace keepers,  the armed forces and other organised groups operating around the frayed edges of ‘civilised society’.

So, yes, it may be a cliché and elicit a bit of a giggle from some – but take a look at the organisations that the beret is looting from and you won’t see many of them laughing.

Clockwise from the top:

• Beyoncé’s backing dancers pay homage to the Black Panthers. www.highsnobiety.com
• Vincent Lappartient for Christian Dior. www.thepinealpost.com
• Marxist revolutionary and international poster boy Che Guevara. www.artblart.com

Clockwise from top left:

• All female group of Guatemalan United Nations peace keepers. www.sustainablesecurity.org
• Blue beret at Rodarte. www.elle.com
• The elite Soviet VDV (Air Landing Forces) www.harveyblackauthor.org

Clockwise from top left.

• An all female  group of Guardian Angels protects women from sexual assault on the New York subway. www.mcdermottphotos.com
• Red beret at Gucci. www.elle.com
• The Army of Brunei’s  Special Combat Squadron. www.worldmilitaryintel.blogspot.co.uk

If you’re feeling empowered, inspired – or just fancy doing a spot of crochet – why not come and join us at Norfolk Yarn this Autumn for our Crochet Beret master class? You’ll be in good company.

Help! I think my daughter has been abducted by aliens!

What 21st century parent isn’t wearily familiar with the addictive nature of online games for children?

Having finally come to terms with a family members minecraft addiction, another seems to be rearing it’s ugly head. It has huge purple hair, empty black eyes and appears to have an arrow impaled in its head.

This monstrous character is an alien from Movie Star Planet; a truely scary environment. Inhabitants of the planet appear to have had their brains sucked out and they wander about aimlessly spouting mindless banalities to anyone they come across.

Direct action is required.

“This is Earth calling. You are under threat of alien abduction. Please make your way to the dining area for your own safety…….NOW!!!”

I wait for the slap of the laptop closing and observe the entry of a young female with attitude. She rolls her eyes slowly, swishes her high pony tail and makes an exaggerated gesture. (which she hasn’t quite perfected so it looks alarmingly like a nervous twitch)

Let the battle commence.

Here are my 5 suggested activities designed specifically for combating and alleviating the negative effects of Movie Star Planet in preteen girls.

1. Make a Dream Catcher.

Introduce this activity with an age appropriate conversation about cultural appropriation.

2. Make Some Felties

Introduce this with an age appropriate conversation about animal welfare, conservation, and the infantilising effects of adults in onesies.

3. Arrange a Collection of Rocks, Stones, Pebbles or Crystals

Introduce this activity with an age appropriate contextual conversation about the work of Andy Goldsworthy. (eg. Is it Art? Yes it bloody well is.)

Goldsworthy image credit

4. Make a Tent Outside.

Introduce this activity with an age appropriate conversation about temporary dwellings, refugee camps and homelessness. (try not to make her cry)

 

Refugee image credit

5. Bake Some Gingerbread Men

Introduce this activity with an age appropriate argument about who’s going to tidy up the mess.

 

Any of these activities should help re-ground and acclimatise your child. Normal speech patterns should return, eye rolling should cease and general intelligence and well- being should be restored.

She has returned to earth.

“Creativity is contagious, pass it on.”

    Albert Einstein      

                         

Earlier this year I was delighted to run another ‘real life’ crochet-along at Norfolk Yarn in the Lanes, Norwich.

Over the course of 3 months we met up to work on our own versions of The Folklore Shawl and the results were just beautiful. The design can be made using any brand of DK weight yarn but we chose to use Yarn Stories DK Merino because we all agreed that the colour range was perfect for this project.

As always, the first class was really exciting as we spent time selecting colours and working on our own, individual, colour palettes. It’s always such a pleasure helping people do this; the challenge is to gently poke someone out of their comfort zone and into their creative zone. Comfort gives you a nice warm fuzzy feeling but being inspired, and  truely creative, gives you a buzz that makes your heart sing.

The investment of hours and hours of labour (even if it is a ‘labour of love’) does require a sprinkling of faith that the colours you have chosen are ‘right’ – but this is where the magic lies. You try to visualise the finished result but it’s not until the work begins to reveal itself that you see it’s ‘true colours’ and begin to know your creation.

It is a priviledge to work with people that have this faith; they trust their decisions and follow through.

Here are some glimpses of the amazing work produced by a group of  inspirational people.

 

If you love these as much as I do you might like to join me for my next real life CAL at Norfolk Yarn this Autumn. We will be making my latest design; the lovely Crochet Trellis Poncho using Rowan Felted Tweed.

But if you live too far away to join us why not join in the online Trellis Poncho CAL

And if you’d like to stay in the loop you can subscribe to my lovely little newsletter.

with love.

Sue x

Lifestyle photography by Boo Marshall Photography