I have my London 2012 olympic souvenirs all chosen. Not that they’re official olympic souvenirs, but then I’ll probably only watch bits of the opening and closing ceremonies and the women’s gymnastics on television anyway. Still, nothing like being ready if I’m suddenly gripped by Olympic Fervour!
Karen Mabon is such a talented designer. These are beautiful silk scarves to own anyway with or without their sporty associations, and I love their vintage look. It was very hard to choose my favourites, but in the end I went for “Swimming” and “Gymnastics” which I found online at the Design Museum Shop.
Whether to read or simply to pour over, two nice discoveries this morning.
On my Kindle, a pre-order arrived:
Looking forward to reading this tenth book in the Gill Cunningham mystery series. Pat McIntosh writes convincingly (at least to me!) of medieval Scotland. I especially like the descriptions of Gill’s household and the characters of his intelligent French wife Alys and her kindly father, a master mason by trade.
I try to have a random look through the marvellous BBC site Your Paintings most mornings. You can set up your own BBC id here and save your favourites so that you can browse amongst them, display them as a slideshow etc. I have an affection for the domestic scene, and here’s a lovely example from the nineteenth century German artist Friedrich Eduard Meyerheim. He was surely a master of bedding with the lovely detail in those plump, cosy quilts and blankets, and he captures perfectly the shiny and delicate looking pendulum clock on the wall and the little girl’s curiously far-forward plaits, as well as the adjoining workshop with father absorbed in his work.
Enforced break there as I got used to being back at work full time. Feel I must be a rather slow
learner healer – the recuperation from a relatively simple surgery seemed to take forever. Never mind, back to normality now and enjoying everything to the full again.
How wonderful it has been to discover two, “new to me,” women writers over the past fortnight. Gillespie and I by Jane Harris and Code Name Verity by Elizabeth Wein are very different books, but similar in that both are wonderful examples of the unreliable narrative voice. Both are hard to talk about without giving away important details of their plots, but I promise they are page-turners par excellence. With each, the minute I finished the last page, I zipped back to the first and started all over again. I’ve been urging friends and relatives alike to rush out and get their own copies and start reading! These are the sort of books that are just too good to enjoy alone: you want to share the joy and be able to find out what others think.