It has been a week of delightful adventures, cake and craftiness. There was a trip to the seaside on Sunday, with a visit to Oriel Mostyn, and a splendid mooch along the seafront. I always enjoy the quaintness, and the peachy pastelness of the hotels. There was also a little bit of time for a trip to Chester, and one to Liverpool, for shopping and festive present buying, and regular tea and cake breaks.
On Thursday one of my dearest, sweetest friends visited, and as always it was like we'd never been apart. There was a wander up to the old castle mound in Oswestry, and a visit to two of my favourite tea rooms and the gallery. It was a splendid day and reminded me yet again of the loyalty from my foul-weather friend that I am more grateful for than I have words to explain.
My personal crafty endeavours this week have mostly been the progress of my latest pair of Frankensocks, squares for my mood blanket and a dainty little crocheted flower. The flower pattern came from a book that had belonged to my Great-Grandmother. It was an opportunity to connect with a lady of whom I have only the vaguest recollections, mostly where dots have been joined by the people that knew her, through their stories and anecdotes. I cherish the idea that I sat working through a pattern that she herself may have tried, wondering if she stumbled at the same points, if she would have found my "magic ring" adaptation interesting or if she stuck rigidly to the instructions. I felt a heavy sense of missing out on the chance to spend time with a kindred spirit, but that I am joined to her with the knowledge that she may have taught my gran to knit, and that she in-turn taught me - the passing of skills from generation to generation.