Life's a bowl of cherries

If there is one fruit which says Christmas to me it is cherries. When I was growing up in Melbourne cherries were cheap and plentiful and we children would eat them by the handful. In Perth they are neither cheap nor plentiful so when we have cherries in the house each one of them is savoured and enjoyed individually rather than by the handful and their scarcity makes them a real treat.

One of the fabrics I have used in the cot quilt has cherries on it so I thought I would put the fabric and the real thing together and see what happened. The one thing which I noticed immediately was the way the real cherries reflected the light in exactly the same way as the cherries in the fabric. Life imitates art.

If cherries are the fruit of Christmas, hydrangeas are my flowers of Christmas. Again I go back to my childhood and I can remember that my mother would always pick huge bunches of hydrangeas and put together wonderful arrangements of them together with agapanthus and shasta daisies. When I saw the hydrangeas on the mantelpiece, I knew that Christmas was not far away. I have only two small bushes in the garden and I am reluctant to pick the flowers as they last so much longer on the bush. They are such an old fashioned flower, but what a gorgeous display they make.

I am pleased to say that the tooth is fixed and the quilt is finished (pictures to come). However, I am not feeling smug. Happy, satisfied, pleased. All of these, but never will I feel smug again. I have learnt my lesson.