a bed for a princess

There was once an eccentric queen who had such a passion for beautiful fabric, she couldn’t stop buying it, sewing it, hanging it, wearing it …  but her favourite thing to do was piece the fabric into glorious, rich quilts.

The king became worried … “Darling! ” he cried, “Perhaps it is time to stop all this sewing!  I can almost see the bottom of the castle coffers!  The roof is leaking, the garden’s a disgrace, the cellarer is afraid the castle is about to fall in on him, the cook threatens to leave if we don’t fix the kitchen and I do declare, the youngest horse in the stable is 10 years old!”

(I don’t think I have EVER used such bright fabric!)

But the queen simply smiled sweetly, cooked him his favourite dinner, and kept sewing, sure that one day, they would be glad they had all these quilts.

(Further to the flying geese tutorial, I’m now pinning the middle to further ensure the pieces stay straight whilst sewing down the first side - feels good!) 

Sure enough, the year came that in the depths of winter, when the stars were brittle with ice and the air was as sharp as needles, there was a knock at the castle door.  It was a ghostly-pale, board-stiff young woman, accompanied by a gaggle of snow-dusted geese.  She had been travelling home with her geese when finally the cold had become too much to bear and she had no choice but to seek refuge.  This was the fifth castle she’d tried, and she was very much afraid that if they did not find a warm fire soon, the geese would freeze to death.

“Of course my poor child! Come in!  Come in!”  cried the queen, and whilst the king and their handsome son thawed out the girl and her geese before the roaring study fire, she rushed to heat all of the copper bed warmers and collect all of the quilts that were not in use.

(ooh - prairie points - talked about them for years, but first time I’ve tried making them - they’re a lot more fiddly than I imagined!  I shall have to practice!) 

As the queen led the girl, whose name was Dora, to the prepared bed, she could barely contain her excitement.  Finally, all her quilts would have the chance to shine.  However, when Dora found herself being propelled towards the towering bed, she protested,

“Oh dear, I hope you haven’t put a pea in there, truly I am not a princess and have no designs upon your son!”

(If I’m not careful, this will be Little A’s bed before I know it!  She currently sleeps under 3 quilts with a fourth laid across the foot of the bed and one hanging on the well behind it!)

The queen was crestfallen - she’d at least hoped for a “My goodness, what a lot of quilts you have!”

“Why no, my dear girl!  They are simply to keep you warm - hop in!  Hop in!”

“Thank goodness!”  Dora cheered up quickly, “It is VERY cold - I shall be glad of such comfort.”  And with that she clambered into the soft, jewel-like warmth of the quilts and slept the best sleep she’d ever had.

(yeeeeeess … those prairie points definitely need working on - they are not particularly even - I wonder if there’s a trick to them …) 

By the time the queen, the king, the handsome son and the royal household awoke the following morning, Dora’s bed had been beautifully made, the copper warming pans returned to the kitchen and by the study fire (where the king and handsome son had made cosy nests for the geese with quilts the queen wasn’t happy with) were 21 huge and magnificent egg-shaped jewels.

Dora and her geese, however, were nowhere to be seen.  There were not even tracks in the snow.  The queen, the king and the handsome prince stood in awe of the gems’ beauty.  By the time the cook brought in their porridge and apples, they each had 7 jewels tucked into the pockets of their dressing gowns and 3 meticulous lists of how they would spend their fortune for the next 50 years!

( I don’t know that I like the dark blue borders here, I shall have to consider it in the morning light, but I’m fairly sure I will be removing them and using more of that gorgeous blousey floral stripe that’s on the prairie point side) 

When rescuing the soggy sentimental treasures this week, I found the small white porcelain tile that hung on my bedroom door from when I was a baby - or should I say, when I picked up the wet paper bag, the tile went flying across the room and landed, unbroken on the concrete floor.  It was a miracle!  I ran upstairs with it and reverently placed it on the piano for safekeeping.  It had a little picture of a teddy bear wearing robes and a crown - a jolly dancing fellow - and said in gothic lettering, “Lily Sleeps Here”  This tile has travelled with me all my life and I was so relieved it hadn’t broken.

But, a few hours later, as I was arranging the damp cards around the room, I noticed that the teddy bear had all but disappeared and all that was left was a pile of fine shavings.  Indeed it was one of those moments we hear about on archaeological documentaries - as the picture dried, it disintegrated.  All I could do was watch in dismay!  Ah well, such is life!

But it did remind me that Little A has no such sign and, rather than risk tile and disintegrating picture, I designed a patchwork sign! Hopefully it will last a very long time. And the above quilt is it. I shall embroider either “Little A sleeps here” or just “Little A’s Room”  - I’ll let her decide.  And I’m not sure where to put it - under the bed?  What do you think?

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