A fascination with boxes

Along with notebooks, I’ve got a bit of a thing about boxes. And it’s not something I’m sorry about. I mean when the boxes are as pretty as these, why would I? If you’ve seen this one on my Instagram feed recently you’ll know it’s another Instagram purchase from a vintage seller there. This one had me worried a little as it was slow to arrive, but once it was here I was smitten.

It wasn’t my intended purchase. I saw a vintage sign that made me smile, and it was that that caught my eye. Scrolling through more photos I spotted the box, and it was sold. Literally. I had no idea of its size, but that didn’t matter.

As you can see it’s not large, but is a decent enough size - and the amount of work it contains is amazing. MOH predictably asked where it would go when it arrived, but knew that disputing its existence was futile.

Much like when we walked into a room full of decorative boxes on our short break in Norfolk last year. I thought I had a photo which I could add to this post, but it seems I was too much in awe to do that. But clearly the memory has stayed, and it’s clearly going to be somewhere we revisit, often. That time I left with a candlestick instead of a box, but that was a blip, I’m pretty sure there’s a box in my future.

Instead though I’m sharing one that I already have. I know it came to me via dad, but that’s all I know. The name - L Higginson - isn’t one we know, and I’m pretty sure he doesn’t either. But that doesn’t mean it’s any less of a box beauty.

What I’d forgotten though was all the photos it holds. And consequently the memories.

Including one of my four cats (none of whom are still with me) enjoying dinner on a distinctly dodgy looking (temporary) carpet in the kitchen in my old house. The memory of walking on cat food barefoot isn’t a memory I needed to recall though.

The detail on the boxes, including this mother of pearl keyhole, that’s something I don’t think I’ll tire of.

An open-shelved delight

When we arrived at our holiday cottage in Norfolk last October this was the view that met us as we opened the door, quite breathtaking isn’t it?

We knew the cottage would look great, but we perhaps weren’t expecting our breath to be taken quite so much away. I like the idea of open shelving in a kitchen, but I know that mine would rarely look as pretty as these! But I was hopeful that for a few days, and in someone else’s space, I wouldn’t mess it up too much.

I was also quite taken with the zinc worktop, and it’s something I’d have in a future kitchen. Perhaps not on every worktop, but I can see the advantages of incorporating it somewhere. I could get MOH to make even more pastry - one of his specialities - if he had such a space couldn’t I? I’m less good at pastry, I think because my hands are too hot, but that works for bread making, which is very much more my thing.

The worktops looked great, but in reality for longer term living all the ‘staging’ probably wasn’t that practical. Though adding the gourds and pumpkins was a really lovely touch and one that’s do-able and very repeatable in my own kitchen. I just need to remember - or find this post again - in the autumn.

The stack of enamelware reminded me how much I like enamelware, and reminded me of what I have at home, and rarely use. This was a soft grey and white variety, whereas mine is white with the blue trim - quite the classic look. I do like a classic, as my Le Creuset is the traditional orange sort too. Having been reminded of the enamelware’s beauty I promised myself to make more use of my own, and I’ve added to it too. MOH now has some espresso cups, and I’ve my eye on a roasting set too, if it ever comes back in stock.

The mix of practical and pretty really appealed to me. I don’t think it’s much of a coincidence that I’ve also bought some pretty and hand painted coffee cups either. And even though the look is modern, there were many traditional elements, like this drying plate rack above the sink.

And I bet like me, you weren’t really surprised to discover the style of the cutlery in the cutlery drawer.

Picking up my patchwork

It’s been a while, but over Christmas the patchwork quilt I planned and started a while back started to call my name. So I braved it, pulled it out and quickly remembered the reason I’d put it aside was because my next job was to cut up an old duvet cover to use as the plain sections of the quilt. I also remembered that I needed to cut over 300 pieces once I’d done that.

However, as I said it was calling my name, so there was nothing for it, but to get on with it.

And like many things, once I’d started it wasn’t as bad as I feared. It wasn’t long before I got into a rhythm and piles of the right sized blocks started to form.

So the next piece of my quilt puzzle was to reacquaint myself with the 2.5 inch squares I’d already cut after choosing fabrics from my stash and working out the layouts. Now I needed to decipher my system - thankfully my logical self had left plenty of clues, including some blog posts and photos of each Great Granny Square layout. Sometimes I even amaze myself.

Which all meant, it was time to start sewing. I decided to pin a couple of blocks to speed up the actual sewing, and it’s a system that’s working out well for me. I currently have four blocks assembled, two more ready to assemble, two ready for the first seams to be pressed and another two blocks pinned and ready to sew.

I do like a system.

SEWING SQUARES TOGETHER

CHAINING MORE SQUARES TOGETHER

SEWING THE STRIPS TOGETHER AND ASSEMBLING THE BLOCKS

The sewing is actually the enjoyable bit, cutting out less so - but clearly needs to happen. I’m sure MOH is bemused about the desire to cut up bits of fabric to sew them back together again, and on a level I see his point, but knowing I will create something bigger and better than its parts is what it’s all about.

Each strip and block I sew is full of memories. I know where each piece has come from and many are years old and some are much newer. In the blocks below, the pink and white floral pieces are from remnants in mum’s stash of the Laura Ashley curtains I had in my bedroom as a teenager, the brown stripey fabric is newer and a recent purchase from the V&A. The turquoise aztec pattern is from remnants from a childhood dress of mine, not the actual dress, but a piece that mum made me a magazine bag which I used and used. I used so much the handles came off, and so it was put aside and when I came to look for fabrics I knew this was going in.

The centres of each block, and the pink and lilac striped material are from old shirts. I’m not sure its usual to use stripes in patchwork, however I am. Striped fabrics have memories too - though I’m trying to use them so all the stripes head the same way. I suspect there’ll be a hiccup along the way, but that’s the plan.

Some of my seams don’t quite match up, and some are perfect. I’m trying not to focus on those that don’t too much because when it’s all together it will be unlikely that the imperfections spoil the overall look. Well, I’m hoping not anyway.

I’ve realised just how much I do like patchwork quilts, and how long it is since I’ve sewn one. When I had my first house I made many quilts, selling them to friends and family but got out of the habit somewhere along the way. I’ve also realised that quilts have many life lessons in them, as well as memories, as done is way better than perfect.

And while I’ve certainly not been rushing this one, they aren’t something to rush either. Though even I’ll admit leaving it a few years in between stages is pushing it. I’m not even sure MOH believes it will ever exist as an actual quilt either. I’m sure it will, though I’m not quite prepared to say exactly when!