Soleil by Labokoff

I need vitamin D. I know this because I want to eat this picture, nay,I want to fall into it, clamber inside like a child into Narnia (in summertime!) I’m TIRED of grey.

Us Leasachs have now endured way beyond a fair quota of grey. All the farmers need to collect their silage is three dry days, THREE DRY DAYS! The silage fields lie dull and damp, the grass once fine and tall has slumped with exhaustion after straining too hard for the rarest glimpse of sun. Three dry days, that’s all we ask.

Yellow is like a drug to me right now. Do you think I need one of these sunlight lamps?

This is what I’m going to do. I’m going to get my fix of yellow by sneaking little linden green leaves and acid yellow sparkle into my commissions. Yes I am! Naughty, but oh so nice.

Samples for the next commission with a few sneaky yellow bits courtesy of photoshop.

The wonderfully anarchic work of Robert Rauschenberg

I spent a good chunk of last night panicking about yesterday’s blog post – about  exploring the form and colour of a harebell. I mean WHAT IS HAPPENING TO ME! Where is my inner anarchist, where is the wild, gregarious abstractor, the foot thumper, the twister and turner of  ideas. Obviously nowhere to be seen last night! However I am sensing some devilish, naughty little creations peeping over my creative wall so – watch out!

Not exactly the Brad Pitt of Tractors...but we love him anyway.

However, today we have been mending tractors amongst other things. Fred,Frodo, Trevor  (see mammoth facebook discussion regarding his name) decided to rumble to a halt. It’s at times like this that I thank utterly everything that I have a man about who isn’t phased by cylinders covered in  diesel treacle and fuel filters gunged up with something that looks like cat vomit. I like to stand by as a nurse might in surgery…predicting what tool might be needed next and handing it to the surgeon with attentive, quiet confidence and wishing I had spent more time listening in Physics and less time impersonating our very small teacher. It’s when Yorick asks me for an opinion that my mask of knowing is whipped from my being like the unveiling of a scooby doo villain. It goes a bit like this.

Yorick: Could you undo the fuel cap Sarah?

Me: Yeaaah sure!  I wander quietly around the tractor tentatively tugging at anything resembling a knob until my eyes spot a likely looking thing that I can turn. I turn and turn and then the whole front bonnet thing falls off. Ooops! Wrong knob.

Fortunately we can address this imbalance in technical ability with my prowess when it comes to household administrative duties so I don’t feel totally useless in this duet of life and I do get to huff and puff occasionally and make Yorick feel incompetent. However tonight, with Trevor Tractor. I DID.

Sketching flowers from various angles for applique

Included with the blind was a complimentary lampshade made from the sample piece used to try out different techniques prior to making.

Tangle of stems and a flower head.

and the blind itself was much appreciated by a delightful client.

Harebell Roman blind set into the dormer window.

Next project…Sloe berry blinds x 2 and a set of curtains. So far so good.

cuckoo and Maples

The patches were intended for my Dad, to be part of an 80th birthday quilt, but he is now 82 and announced last month that he and his partner Lois were going to get married. After some discussion among sisters we decided that the intended birthday quilt would be adapted to become a wedding quilt which could be pieced and layered here and quilted by their friends in Canada where they spend half the year.

Patch details

Each patch was cut from old table linens found in a number of charity shops. Incidentally this turned out to be apt given that Lois adores a good charity shop and has familiarised herself with just about every “Help the Aged” this side of Hadrian’s wall.

I had already introduced the Scottish connection with embroideries of local flora and fauna but I needed to introduce Canada in some way:  Maple leaves was bonded to some patches and they would later be quilted at a Bee in Canada.

Maple leaves in Blues, greens and salmon.

the third verse of words of Kahlil Gibran’s wise wise words on Marriage were embroidered around the central square:

“Give your hearts, but not into each other’s keeping.

For only the hand of life can contain your hearts.

And stand together, yet not too near together:

For the pillars of the temple stand apart,

And the Oak tree and the Cypress grow not in each other’s shadow.”

Letters from the back

Strips of scrap fabrics in stoney hues were pieced around the text. In my mind they, to a certain extent, represent the stone pillars of the temple.

As ever, I find the back almost more enticing.

The top layer is not quite finished. I still want to add a border with the tunes that my sister wrote for Lois’s mum and Dad – Jean and Sherman Yelland.

So a wee bit more work and then layering up. We’ll probably have a quilting or two here before the quilt crosses to the other side of the world for the attention and stitching of friends further afield.

Central square before the stoney strips were set around it.

So this has all got me thinking about setting up a series of quilting workshops here on the island, perhaps with a bit of song thrown in. What do you reckon to that idea?

I spent the morning watching the electrician scale freshly creosoted larch poles as I wandered up and down the hilltop field zapping thistles with Grazon 90. At lunchtime I wandered back to the farmhouse with my neighbour Stephen, and we marvelled at the handsome, newly erected pole on our croft. After lunch we ambled back  and it gradually dawned on us both that the handsome pole was no longer there. For a short while I wondered whether it had ever really existed. Had it perhaps just been wishful thinking after months, nae years of speculation? but as we approached it became clear that the huge beast had entirely fallen down…splat! It had crashed through the march fence bringing half of it down with it and warping the gate to boot. The event had also resulted in broken fuses and a badly bumped transformer. Ohhhh dear.

Mr Scottish and Southern and crew tried to appear cheery as they attempted to attend to the damage and figure out why and what to do about it. Something was mumbled about dry, stable ground becoming wet, jelly like ground and nothing was said about stays (or the lack of one). However, Mr S and S assures me it will all be fine in the end, whilst muttering ” Nightmare, nightmare”.

Tomorrow, our slightly less handsome pole will be  re erected and the island will, once again have to abstain from cups of tea, computers, television and, in some case, income for the sake of our bright and buzzy barn.

Half completed notebook covers.

Today the sum total of my textile production has been 6 half completed notebook covers, bound eventually for “Sheila Fleet” in Kirkwall. This is a pathetic amount of produce and don’t I know it.

My day was delightfully filled with providing electricians with cups of tea, cleaning and clearing work surfaces, hoovering my studio, ordering replacement bonnet for the mainland car, fixing email glitches and showing wedding photos and newly built barn to visiting rellies as well as writing a hall newsletter and making lunch, tea and a black currant pie for the croft workers and the boys accompanied by occasional pangs of guilt for not managing to clean the village hall once this month and I’m on “July”duty.

Today was about attending to the here and now and not side lining life for the sake of a tick list. It felt good. OK…off to pull thistles in the evening sun.

Boat Notebooks from the Tweed Collection.

Loch an Eilean, picture postcard perfect.

The last eight days spent under the eaves of the Cairngorms have been a little unsettling in this respect. So darn beautiful, so varied and so well set up for visitors. There’s a bumper number of activities to enjoy and terrains to explore. We paddled in kayaks and tried not to disturb the nesting Osprey overhead, swam in rivers, scaled Cairngorm, painted pottery and watched wolves and a polar bear at the wildlife park. In the mornings I jogged in the pine scented paths of the larch woods and spied red squirrel and deer en route.

Woodland paths/ joggers paradise.

Lismore doesn’t have woods of any considerable size. This morning I tried to take a new running route and after the sixth farm gate, dew soaked trainers, a cow plat splat on my knee and a U-turn  encounter with a very ugly bull I admitted that the East and its little red riding hood woods and inexhaustible activities has a certain competitive edge.

I know there’s more to be said on this topic but after all that Eastern exertion I’m just too darn shattered to think.

Night night.

I bagsey here

I recently discovered that not everyone familiar with the English language is as familiar with the term “bagsey” (spelling could be way off).

It is one of these Scottish colloquialisms relating to coveting which we (my family) used daily to ensure that our seat, sweet, slice of cake was reserved solely for muggins, an example being “Bagsey ma seat” meaning don’t let anyone sit here while I’m gone. This particular spot demands a certain amount of elbow since it really is a stunner and left unclaimed could be wasted on a drum practice hut or teenage den. No, this spot needs to be bagseyd for an altogether higher purpose, a meditation hut.

I have spent the last few days building and rebuilding it in my mind in a range of shapes and materials. I’m thinking humble stone roundhouse with perhaps a dash of thatch and a lot more light  than a lowly Pictish dwelling usually affords.

I’m also intrigued  and drawn to the cord wood building approach and spend hours of evening drooling over images of Midge and Minty’s Colorado dream hut .

However, the likelihood is that my dream hut will look a little more like this:

for the short period prior to the wind blowing as Yorick is going to need some serious recovery time after having just about completed building THIS:

Roller blind for Alison Kerr - "Dog wood"

You either need a spare bright and empty house with a stylist and photographer in the wings  or you bribe every client to photograph theirs once installed (with no guarantee of quality!).

Today I pursued a third option in which there may be some mileage. Big white wall, install blind upon it and click.

and again.

However it is hardly the context shot that potential clients crave and could be improved so by the addition of a vase of flowers a bedside table and a WINDOW for gods sake – but I just couldn’t be bothered lugging accessories up to the newly built barn.  Also, Yorick is overworked and exhausted enough with basic barn building, I don’t imagine he would relish being asked to install a window for the sole purpose of photographing a blind. Perhaps I need to explore Photoshop potential. Can I cut and paste windows, chairs, divans? Can I style from the comfort of my office? Oooh I’m getting excited now, perhaps I could apply a slice of  Buckingham palace gardens to the window under a half cocked Mogwaii blind. Now there’s a thought.

Full length "Dog Wood"

What a giggle I had today when I received an email asking whether I would like to be featured in Cross stitcher magazine. Of course I said yes and have questions to answer as a result but the irony is I have never cross stitched in my life! I have just been approached to incorporate cross stitch in a commission and had to pass it on to my friend Tina.

I did come clean of course but they don’t seem to mind. Oh well…look out for a fresh approach to cross stitch (ie straight stitch) in their up and coming magazine:

Cross stitch offer.

Michaelmas daisies yearn for sun.

Full time studio was NOT an option today. The sun made a rare and prolonged appearance today and by god  we need it, every last drop of it. This little island has endured way more than its jobs worth of gloom and gales this year. Time for the clouds to curtsey and depart to make way for the great golden globe and its warmest glow.

So sweet was the sunshine that I ambled a farmyard circuit and snapped the following shots.

Daisies and the church

Roadsides lined with crowds of swaying grasses.

And all the woolly ladies are having haircuts which means providing tea and jammy oat cakes to Archie, Duncan and Ina as they clip, roll and sweat in the barn.

New slimline look accessorised with the latest funky ear wear

Spot saltire sheep at the back.

The evening sun hovers over Morvern as I return

and the laundry comes in before a likely downpour.

More sun tomorrow please weather maestre.