An exhibition of needlework

lured me out of the house yesterday. I actually caught the train - for the second time since Covid hit our shores.

The train journey was not particularly enjoyable. It was crowded with people going to events at Writers' Week and elsewhere. Thankfully I managed to get both the trike and myself on and off safely. 

I had something to drop off for a good friend at the Embroiderers' Guild premises and, that done, I had given myself an hour to prowl around and look. Oh yes, I looked. 

I spent more time in front of some exhibits than others. That is always the way of such things. Some things caught my eye. Others did not. I was, as always, amazed by the variety. Yes, some of the work was done from a kit but there was also much which was original. One piece had every colour of the rainbow and in shades within that. Another was the pale blue of Wedgewood with soft white. There was an armchair covered in Jacobean style embroidery - no I could not sit on that. I would worry I might spoil the work involved.

I found my friend's jewellery. It will absolutely suit her when she eventually wears it. I looked at other small things. I made my way right around the exhibition room and then along the path to the smaller exhibition area. 

The fish which has won the annual prize is an extraordinary piece of work - designed and made by the winner. It is difficult to contemplate the amount of work involved in the making of it. The very delicacy of it would make me afraid to try and pick it up. It was almost translucent but it still seemed to swim towards me.

And on the table in the centre of the room were some toadstools. Now there are toadstools and there are toadstools. These were the very best sort of toadstools made of tiny, tiny beads and bling. I left them wondering if the minute residents of these tiny places wander around at night looking at the exhibition in ways we cannot.

The hour I had given myself was over too quickly...but I hope I can go again next year.