On Friday evening we went to the private view of Kaffe Fassett's new quilts, the work inspired by original pieces displayed at the American Museum in Bath.
The show contains both the old and the new and it was fascinating to move between them and note both the differences and the similarities.
What do you actually look at at a private view? We went early because there is usually such a crush that its impossible to see what is hanging on the walls. I heard someone say that you don't come to a private view to look at the work. I know what he meant; the patternistas and colour crazy were all in evidence. Wow, sock it to me!
Even Himself got in on the act in his pink jumper.
Photographing me photographing you.
(I wore my navy gymslip and didn't compete.)
Spots before my eyes.
This sunburst quilt is the one that I would have taken home.
We were back in Bournemouth this week for more babysitting. Rain and a strong and bitingly cold wind kept us indoors, no strolling on the beach this trip. Our grandson played happily with a wooden shapes box made by Galt that we had bought forty-seven years ago for our first child. At some point the lid had needed glueing back together, but overall it has stood up rather well to a great deal of action!
This is how you do it, Grandad.
The house is crammed with toys, not only the old ones kept by us but also a great many hand-me-ons from friends and new purchases from family members and irresistible objects bought by the parents themselves.
Not every little person of twenty months has a retro kitchen to prepare his nibbles in! (Thanks to his paternal grandmama.)
But, despite a plethora of toys, the hit of the week was a cardboard box. He hid in it, pushed about in it, rocked in it, chucked toys into it and threw them out again.
Every day a bit more messing about in an ever more fragile cardboard box!
We've been in Bournemouth to babysit for our grandson. It was glorious weather for February, a month that is usually so drab and dispiriting. We could hear the boom of breaking waves before we got to the beach. There are no restrictions for dogs out of the main holiday season and they were certainly making the most of it, tearing up and down the shoreline having a wonderful time.
We also had a bit of a canter on the sand
but the slide in the children's playground got the biggest smile,
On our last evening in Puglia we went to eat at an old masseria, the sister hotel of the Borgo where we were staying. It was cold and, arriving in the dark, with the building dramatically lit, it felt as though I had stepped onto a film set.
The next place to visit was Alberobello, a town with over one thousand round, conically roofed trulli buildings. It is now a World Heritage Site and firmly on the tourist trail.
So I did what all good tourists do and wandered about the town taking lots of pictures.
Pumpkins in place for halloween.
On the way back to our hotel we stopped off at their beach club. But the weather during our stay had been disappointing (people were wading knee deep in Venice) and the Adriatic wasn't tempting us in for a swim.