Small silk shoulder bag with hand embroidered honeysuckle (Mary Addison)

June and July are busy times for small rural villages and our weekends have been packed with communal activities ranging right across the spectrum of jolly things to be done in high summer.  A local choir performed summer songs of enchanting loveliness in church after which we repaired to a marquée in a parishioner’s garden for relaxed company and a delicious meal. The village fête braved a storm during its popular dog show and emerged wet but triumphant as people surged out of their houses (and turned out their pockets) along with the sudden arrival of sunshine. Garden enthusiasts spent a glorious day visiting an inspirational and paradisical garden in deepest Glousestershire, followed by a chatty lunch at the Burford Garden Centre and a whizz around the  myriad temptations of  a veritable Samarkand of  desirable merchandise. Last Saturday saw  people bearing picnic chairs, tables, bottles and baskets pouring into the courtyard of one of the longest barns in England as we feasted, celebrated and enjoyed yet more local musical talent. Through the largesse of parishioners we not only went to hear Rowan Williams speak but also were introduced to him and had a conversation about the unquantified and possibly unquantifiable aspects of the village church.  And strung through all these events, like ripening cherries on a tree of mature profusion, are preparations  for the Art and Craft Exhibition in the church at the end of the month.  Patchwork pieces are  being piled up, french knots perfected, photographs chosen, models dusted down and oil paints cajoled into drying. As if all this isn’t enough, my husband’s creative thinking seems to know no bounds – he  is a veritable brewery of new and exciting ideas which bubble and fizz in almost uncontrollable profusion. (I hope there will be more on this later.) Alongside this rumble the day to day life of going to work, family and friends appearing, the garden’s sudden burgeoning and demanding attention and the longing just to sit and watch the bronze barley ripen to golden (quite different from watching paint drying). The downside of all this is that I have missed embroidery deadlines (for 1 wedding monogram and for embroidering the linen coat to be worn at that wedding) and am working like crazy to carve out time to get on with sewing.

Detail of shoulder bag with embroidered honeysuckle

So, it’s another short post, this time on a little embroidered bag. Big enough for a lipstick, handkerchief and a £5 note, this shoulder bag has been quite useful in the past – though bags like this are not very fashionable at the moment.  Once again I’ve turned to the irresistible honeysuckle , the default flower my needle churns out almost without by passing the brain. This summer the honeysuckle has been particularly extraordinary in the profusion of its flowers and the power of its perfume. Opening the bedroom windows at night the delicate perfume of the honeysuckle pervades the garden with such a scent of an English paradise that images of a Samuel Palmer landscape opening into a Gertrude Jeykll garden painted by Helan Allingham invade the subconscious and sleep comes quickly and sweetly. My fingers feel twitchy to embroider yet more honeysuckle and fix in thread summer’s bounty for winter’s comfort.

Silk shoulder bag with hand embroidered honeysuckle

All the embroidery is in buttonhole silk (Güttermann twisted thread which is no longer available) and the colours are luscious and glowing. The stitches used include long and short stitch, satin stitch, stem stitch and french knots. The fabric of both bag and piping is silk and the lining is the same. Back and front are machine quilted; the bag closes with a zip. Photographed on the vicarage rockery above you can see how the  colour of the spikey leaves of Herb Robert  are as bright as the red silk – no one remembers this little weed ever looking so lovely.