Everybody needs ..... Beautiful Table Manners

Hello dear readers. I am proud to present to you my latest project - Beautiful Table Manners!

This is a range of gorgeous square table napkins and runners in 100% cotton - lovely to look at, easy to wash, easy to iron, and best of all, easy to post to you from here in Bahrain.

These are perfect housewarming presents, birthday gifts, and the Absolutely Ideal Stocking Stuffer. Don't you think? Christmas is coming up quickly, after all....

I lit upon this idea a few weeks ago, as I stood in my empty flat surveying my non-existent fabric stash and empty notions box. Being bereft of my everyday fabric stash (I use the term "stash" loosely, it's more a "room" these days) and all my associated interfacing, buttons, zips and other notions, I've had to turn my mind to new products and ideas. Like camel softies, for example - look out for those soon.

But unlike the camel softies, these are lovely things. Things that are straightforward to make. Things that are easy to pack and post off all around the world. Because I'm not bringing them home with me in January, that's certain!

So please .... give someone you love the gift of Beautiful Table Manners.  And save me the excess baggage fees on the return leg of my Middle Eastern adventure!

A trip to hospital

Ah, it's a sad day today. 

Remember that service I told you about? The service my poor old Bernina sewing machine needs? The one it's needed for oh, about six months now, desperately?

Well, the time has come. 

I've packed the sore and sorry thing into its travelling case, and tomorrow it's taking a trip to Camberwell Sewing Centre, for its first service ever.

I've whispered words of encouragement to it. I've said Don't worry little sewing machine, they're going to make you feel better. It won't hurt a bit, I've said. Before you know it you'll be good as new. And won't it feel good to sew without missing stitches anymore? Of course it will.

But it's hard, taking your loved one to the sewing hospital. Knowing that you have to leave them there, in the dark, all alone. 

What if it gets scared? What if it misses me? Who'll be there to wipe away the little drops of sewing oil rolling down its shafts and cranks?

I think I'm only strong enough to do it because I'm going away for ten days. Ten days without my beloved machine! It's like cutting off an arm and asking me to do embroidery with the one arm left. 

It'd be worse though, if I was at HOME with no lovely sewing machine for ten days. Now that would be an agony I couldn't bear.

So it's just as well I'm going to be eating, drinking, sleeping and swimming instead. It'll help keep my mind off things.