Flutterby Patch

Tea with Miss Mitford

What a difference a day makes. Yesterday in northern England we were bathed in sunshine and today its back to the same old dismal dampness. Our annoying drizzle though is nothing compared to the devastation inflicted by Hurricane Gustav as it swept across the Caribbean and on through America's Gulf coast states. Worse still, adding insult to injury, hurricane Hanna is gaining strength in the Atlantic apparently and tropical storm Ike is following suit. What a nightmare for the people who could be in the 'firing line'. Watching the mass exodus from the city of New Orleans on TV was like watching a movie. I can't imagine what it must have been like for all those thousands to leave their homes behind.

I have a little book that I often pick up entitled 'My Village' by Miss Mitford. This charming description of life in a Berkshire village 200 years ago makes a very calming read and is a welcome deviation from our 21st century problems.

Reading the entry for 9th September you realise that, although we live in very different times, nothing has changed over the years regarding the English weather. Miss Mitford writes..... 'We English are accused of talking overmuch about the weather; but the weather this summer has forced people to talk about it. A summer of coldness and cloudiness, gloom and rain. Worse than November! Never was known such a season. Hay swimming, cattle drowning, fruit rotting, corn spoiling and the river Loddon running about the country fields, roads, gardens and houses....'

'Our Village' has been reprinted many times over the centuries and is still readily available from antiquarian book sellers. My version was published in 1893 and contains dozens of evocative pencil sketch illustrations by Hugh Thomson.

1). Walking in the rain 2). A chat with the Lord of the manor
3). The charity-school  4). Boys games

Mary Russell Mitford (1787 - 1865)

There is a charming air of Jane Austin about Mary Mitford's writing but few Austin style love matches. The reader spends a year sauntering through the village in the company of Miss Mitford observing her neighbours and their cottages and then on down country lanes looking for primroses and violets. All very polite and civilized!

Remembering a great lady - Tasha Tudor

Thank you Tasha Tudor for the life you lived, the inspiration you gave to millions and for filling so many lives with sunshine.

To celebrate Tasha Tudor day at my home here in England the bears' best blue and white china was taken from the cupboard and we all enjoyed honey for tea.

My Dolls House

Several years ago I received the book Tasha Tudor’s Dollhouse, a Lifetime in Miniature by Harry Davis. I was immediately inspired and began planning my own dolls house project. Tasha chose her favourite 1830s period for her fantastic house and its contents. I chose the 1700s because I love the costumes and furniture of that period. My project is on going. I have made all the characters to inhabit the house but unfortunately they are currently lodging unceremoniously in a cardboard box as their property is still 'under construction'.

Seen above at her tea table is the first character I made, the lady of the house, Rosaline. She stands 5 inches tall and has a framework of florist’s wire covered in fine fabric (pipe cleaners would be a suitable alternative to wire). Her nose and mouth are stitched and her eyes are tiny black seed beads. I used mohair knitting yarn for her hair.

And here is the rest of the family with servants and estate workers; all enjoying a well earned holiday away from their home in the cardboard box. 
1). Lady Alycia Danville. 2). Children - Master Edward, Maria and Katharine with Snowy the cat. 3). Marion Meadows the dairymaid talking to baby Tymothie 4). The Parson in conversation with William Danville 5). Squire Robert Danville 6). Rosaline Danville taking tea 7). Annie Rigg the nursemaid startled by 'Mouser' the kitchen cat. 8). Greasy Joan and maid Emma in the kitchen 9). Bailiff Abraham Byways with Tom Thwaite the forester and Dick Rigg the shepherd.