On Tuesday evening I was invited to a craft evening at Emma's house at the end of the lane. I wasn't quite sure what to expect. Memories of craft tables in village halls displaying gifts, and knitted things you wouldn't want anyone to give you, flooded back. And worse, a craft evening held in someone's home. A trapped feeling that you'd buy out of courtesy, bath bombs that made you sneeze when you picked them up, finger puppets, peg bags jewellery of a dubious nature and knitted Christmas puddings.
But I was very wrong! The Potter's pots were perfect she had perfect seconds too. The chocolate maker's chocolate yummy, I tasted it all before I bought. Her seconds and thirds and fourths all hitting the spot. The boxes on sticks are to stir into hot chocolate.
How could I have had such pre-conceived notions? I imagined a group of women living in a lane miles from anywhere wouldn't be able to come up with the 'wow factor.' I over compensated of course to alleviate my feelings of guilt by buying from everyone. I justified each purchase as a Christmas present. That's the down side I shall know what everything is when I unwrap it on Christmas morning!
1 comment:
Hello Annie, I'm having a very quiet Saturday morning (recovering from a Meniere's attack through which I tried to keep going with work - not a good idea!). Indulging myself by reading through your blog from the beginning. When we were at Torridon/Loch Maree the other weekend I was reading the local newsletter, and saw that there was more going on locally than in our corner of Edinburgh. We're looking forward to when we move up to Speyside and have all these sorts of spontaneously local events. Plus being much nearer to the west coast!
Post a Comment