Some tea cloths are just too pretty to subject to the washing up and scrunched up to lift hot cast iron pans – which often leads me to thinking about what nice wall hangings they would make – and yet, I rarely get around to it.
Until recently, when I tidied up all the fabric that was shoved in around our little indoor craft table and found this sweet cloth. I bought it with Mum when we made our epic 3 day drive to Brisbane at the beginning of the year. We’d deliberately gone well out of our way to visit this little village in the Southern Highlands which had an amazing antique store. Only when we finally got there – our pennies burning their way through our purses – the store had closed two years earlier after its owners had died. So sad! We found this out at the Alpaca store – where we also found these lovely tea cloths by the very talented Australian artist – Red Tractor Designs. I adore her work because it IS so very Australian. Every piece I see brings a smile of recognition to my face – I can imagine the sun, the smells, the warmth …
I bought this one because it made me think of the future Julian and I are planning – see there’s me off to the left planting some seeds and Julian doing important digging on the right :-)
– and Mum bought another lovely one for dear old Nanny. You can check out more of Rachael Flynn’s wonderful work here. Her Christmas cards are especially lovely – no snowmen or ice skaters in sight! – a girl after my own Australian heart.
The bright squares of colour against the black makes me think of licorice allsorts – another sentimental reminder of my childhood. And the brown – why it’s that Lorax again (I bought metres and metres of him at Darn Cheap one day – I daresay he will keep popping up in things) – ’cause he’s the best gardener of all.
On the back there’s a wee pocket for hanging and lots of squiggles … I tried out a few new wobby quilting strategies on this. Tried quilting round the loraxs – didn’t really work so well. And made little loopy circles in the licorice allsorts squares. They worked better and are definitely something I will keep practising. Oh and there’s a pocket at the bottom as well – I’m going to put another wooden rod in there and hopefully it will help it hanging straighter against the wall.
And where’s it hanging now? In the funniest little nook we have between the kitchen and the toilet. That’s right – our only toilet is off the kitchen. Let me tell you how much guests enjoy using our toilet when we’re all gathered in the kitchen ;-) Funny story – sorry if I’ve already shared this – but Abby and I found our sweet little house during a hectic week in October the year before we moved. It was quite the adventure, finding properties online whilst in the hotel room in the city, then catching trams and trains and walking for miles everywhere to see them. Was particularly galling to spend 2 hours travelling to view a house that was hideously unsuitable and totally misrepresented online.
Anyways – we found our little house and snapped it up on the spot – without Julian. He said he trusted us. Only when he arrived weeks later with the furniture, he called – part bemused, part frantic – because according to him, Abby and I had rented a house with NO TOILET.
Now when he first said this, given all the appalling properties we had viewed, it didn’t seem completely implausible and I burst into tears. “Oh no!” I shrieked, “how could it have no toilet. Surely they couldn’t rent a house with no toilet!” Thankfully, Julian kept wandering through the house and finally exclaimed with relief “Found it! It’s right out in the back corner – through a funny little door off the kitchen!” Phew!
And where the quilt is hanging – that was a locked screen door into the back garden with no other means of closing it. Let me tell you how cold that was! Made you think twice about going to the toilet on a cold night. It didn’t take long before we whacked up a protective piece of MDF.
So now, on the way to our funny toilet, you’ll see this pretty quilt and hopefully think of nice things – instead of the fact that everyone in the kitchen will hear you pee.