I received a package today from the Embroiderers' Guild in the UK. I was instantly suspicious. I didn't order anything, it's not my birthday (though Mother's Day is coming up) and the books were too clearly for me. Additionally, I had been looking at one of the books - on Assisi work - online a few weeks ago, and decided against it in favour of saving up for a more traditional one.
The typical modern Brit block lettering of the address label was no help; everyone from my ex-husband to the latest confirmande at church writes that way (I have been chided for stubbornly maintaining a 19th C. Spencerian script, chided because people 'can't read it'.) The signature on the Customs declaration was no help either. The postmark - East Molesey -just sounded like something out of Wind in the Willows. I asked my family, who either are very good actors (possible) or were genuinely ignorant (I favoured the former.)
I stared at the address in despair and confusion for a while (for if I bought these items I should like to know it when the charge comes in.) Ah, middle age! What did I come in here for? I stared at the address some more; hoping it would deliver up its secret message to me, like a ciper becoming clear and obvious. Apt. 41 Hampton Court Palace, Surrey. At last, the penny dropped: I have a friend travelling in the UK, and before she left she mentioned that she was going to Hampton Court and would look at the embroideries there on my behalf.
The books are these:
Assisi Work: a New Approach by Maggie Phillips;
Ladies' Dress Accessories[19th C.] by Eleanor Johnson;
101 Celtic Spirals and 101 Celtic Borders by Courtney Davis
The last time anyone sent me anything from Blighty (apart from my former suitor, bringing over jars of Marmite foraged at Tesco's in the middle of the night), it was a picture postcard of Ellen Terry by G.F. Watts from the Tate Gallery, from my dear Lady Washinton, because 'it looks like you.'
It takes so little to make this old-fashioned girl swoon!
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