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I suppose I was about three. It will have been the spring of 1951, probably, since it says on the back that we were in the gardens of a local big house, famed for its rhododendrons. Her name is Sheila Teddy and she was made by my Mum. I am told that I had had an ordinary teddy, but she "disappeared" from my pram when I was about a year old. I had been parked outside a shop, the way it was done back then, and my Mother knew the name of the little girl who had been talking to me. She came from a family that one would NOT go to and ask to have ones toy back. So Sheila was made.
And she is still with me. My children loved her too! Her companion is even older. He is a nightdress case called Ankers. He was my Mother's and dates from the 1920's. He was originally called Angus, but much childish mispronunciation transmogrified him to Ankers. He too is bald from much love.
No pictures today, which doesn't mean I haven't taken any - I have been having a lovely time photographing my secret project, but since that is not for publication yet I will mention an interesting book I came across in the second hand bookshop this week.
"Needlework and Cutting Out" by Agnes Walker. This is a manual for teachers. It is also about the same vintage as "Educational Needlecraft" which I wrote about back in February, but oh, what a different approach. "Thimble Drill" ,"Needle Drill", and so forth through the lessons. And drill means exactly that - doing the actions on command, in unison. Boring plain sewing until the children (girls, although this is never mentioned, I think we can assume it) are able to do boring plain seams.
I would have been in big trouble - I could never use a thimble at school. I used to wonder why I found school sewing so hard to do, and got a nasty sore spot on my right ring finger. That is because they made me put the thimble on the finger I used to hold the needle, and I used the next one to push the needle through. Thank goodness my Mother never forced me to use a thimble, and just let me play with needles and thread, and find my own natural way of working. I learned so much more from just messing around and asking her when I wanted help than in all the school lessons. What is more, her way kept the love alive.
So it is an interesting book, and has a lot of patterns - shirts, drawers, combinations and pinafores, etc. That is enough to make it worth having, since it is fascinating how the cut of garments has changed over the years. But I am very glad I am not a little girl in 1907 - I would be learning to hate sewing, and the teacher would not think very much of my skills!
Which is a kind of code for "not a lot to say" The Spanish Broom and the Yellow Loosestrife are looking good, and if screaming intense yellow is not your taste, there are some nice pale restrained Mallows.
The knitting continues, and I should soon be in a position to lay out the half-hap shawl and see if it looks as though it will ever be anything I could own up to!
Apart from that I am working on something that is not for publication until it is out of my hands, and I only have the photos left.
I have allowed myself to be persuaded to go to my son's wedding reception. The thing is, it is in San Francisco. I have never flown before. This is going to be one heck of a weekend. I just hope there is a good supply of long cold soft drinks, and maybe a yarn store adjacent. Meanwhile my head is swirling with things to plan and pack.
