I had cataract surgery last week, so while my vision is stabilising and I'm slowly adjusting to a new interim normal, I'm unable to do anything miniature. Which seemed like the perfect opportunity to revisit my bunting box and re-assess things.
I closed my Folksy shop a while back, and since then my completed bunting has been languishing, forlorn and forgotten. So this week, I've been sorting through it, and listing it in a new shop on my Bunting & Bows Facebook page. It's all been reduced to clear.... by up to 50% so do pop along and take a look.
In my bunting box, I also found loads of fabrics which I'd already cut out, ready to make up, before the pandemic struck last year. So while I'm unable to do any miniaturing, I've set up the sewing machine and yesterday the workroom was filled with the soothing sound of the chukachukachuka of the needle passing though cloth as I carefully began to line the flags. I'd forgotten just how cathartic and soothing the whole process is.
So perhaps I was a tad hasty in declaring the closure of Bunting & Bows. I may keep it going as a form of therapy.... balm for a troubled soul.
In any case, I may as well crack on with my stash of unfinished bunting, all of which feature lovely fabrics in a variety of gorgeous colours and prints.
Here's a sneak preview of some I made earlier for various location in our house. I like to change them around, depending on the season.... it's so much easier to change the bunting than to redecorate a room!
A string of ditsy floral bunting in our newly redecorated kitchen, echoes the vivid hot pink of the window blind. And yes, that's outdoor bunting in the garden too! |
New nautical bunting festoons in the porch gives a quirky welcome to visitors. |
1930s style lady swimmers in our lounge |
Vibrant florals match handmade cushions in the workroom. |
There is simply not a single space in the house which can't be cheered by a string of bunting.