We spent the weekend tearing up the front yard -- which we are redoing -- and painting the attic, which will become by new studio. I feel a little like Goldilocks trying out the three bears' beds. I started in the garage, which was lovely for years, but is now too wet for any sort of fiber art. Pete will take that over for his ceramics. I moved into the new basement, which is really dry and has radiant heat, but I hate being underground -- even though we have over-sized windows. We are going to turn that into a music room and studio for Clara when she is at home. So -- the attic is the last place I can go and I am loving it. It is a little smaller, but I will keep my light table and non-hooking craft supplies in the old basement. I'll get lots of exercise walking up and down two flights of stairs. I will post pictures as soon as it is set up. I am stripping paint off an old desk I bought to fit a specific space, so it may be awhile yet.
In the meantime, here are some more photographs from Ireland. That trip has just stuck with me. I have been reading some Irish thrillers by Benjamin Black, which I found in the library totally by accident. They take place in 1950s Dublin and it so fun to read about places I have been . . . .
The view from our room at the Burlington
A fabulous green cowhide-covered chair at Monart
The salon in the manor house of Monart
The hallway into the modern addition at Monart
A stone stile near Wexford
The Samuel Beckett Bridge. Ann took this photograph with her iPhone upside down in the back of a taxi. I think it is fabulous, as is the bridge.