a rescued swing
Cleaning was required first. A couple of hours. Steel wool, bleach, water. Lucy and Fu helped – sort of. You can see how much Fu got into it – with her face. Lucy preferred a supervisory role.
But then, the afternoon sun spilled on and we rested there, faces tilted towards its warmth.
There was stitching. Smoochy dog. Dirty Dog. Cups of tea. Soundtrack provided by the plain little bird with the beautiful voice, spotted surveying his territory from the kitchen chimney.
Now the swing has it’s own quilted cushion. And we have somewhere sweet to soak up these lovely warm days in the back garden.