If you read my previous post you would know that the colour of this British summer is grey. I tried blaming the Aussies for stealing the sun, but apparently they are not guilty of said crime. Thank goodness for Kristin and her Summer of Colour. She's got us squeezing our tubes and spraying more than sun-tan lotion.
This week it's citron and turquoise - I threw in a bit of Shakespeare too...
Been quite a few weeks what with holidays then the chaos of being back at work, immersing my evenings in a new course (Making Art that Sells) and.... and this is a big AND....
I SAID THIS IS A BIG AND
I have been having a bit of a clear out. Yes Mum, you'll be back just in time to read this and no doubt weep with joy. I am slowly working my way through the clutter and realising that the recording of the Top 40 I taped off the radio back in 1985 (that I haven't listened to since, well, 1985) can probably go in the bin... It feels like a total sacrilege (I loved that Strawberry Switchblade song ... in 1985...), but needs must.
I require more space around me. My cats are getting nervous that I'll be using them to test theories, but fear not little fur balls I would never swing you!). Likewise, I will never use the Holly Hobby notepaper I have been hanging onto for 30 years and nor do I need quite so many photographs of rainy scenes from the Lake District. That mystery tool that lives in the shed can go to scrap metal recycling bin and it is time for William's baby clothes to find a new owner.
It already feels pretty liberating. Well, it did until today when I had to move most of the contents of the lounge into the kitchen in order to have the carpet cleaned. There is now an assault course between me and the fridge, although that's probably not such a bad thing!