It's curtains for us...

(Apologies to the two of you who read an unfinished version of this post three days ago. A gremlin must have pressed the Publish button when I wasn't looking.)

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...curtains and blinds, in fact. Grace made the current ones and the upholstery for Kantara back in March, 2012. Eight years on, she's decided it's time to replace them. They were a triumph, I thought. Curtains and blinds in gold, floor cushions and dinette seats in the same fabric, but in wine red. But Grace likes change, and now seems like a good time to replace them.

The fabric is chosen and ordered online, and we take a trip to Burford in Oxfordshire to collect it. It's a nice-looking town. We may well go there again some time to investigate further.

 (Photos from cotswolds,com)

Jess, our youngest, often has vivid, lucid dreams. She remembers them in great detail the next day, too. It's quite uncanny, and I'm envious. I dream a lot; fascinating, fun dreams. But they usually evaporate as soon as I wake up, and I can recall them at best only vaguely. However, an odd thing that has happened twice to me recently is that I've come out of my sleep with, in one case a song in my head, and in the other, a verse of a poem.

The song is a folk song set in the Napoleonic Wars - inspired, I have no doubt, by the TV series, Sharpe. It's a song of ten verses and choruses - yes, long, but not as long as some folk songs! - and I wrote the whole lot down in the twenty minutes after I got out of bed. 

The second one was just a verse, or perhaps just half a verse, of an Elizabethan-style poem that leans towards the surreal in rather un-Elizabethan manner.

I have been warned that these could be signs of impending insanity, so I'd better enjoy it while I can!

On another note, encouraged by people's reactions to my photos on Flickr, Facebook and Twitter. I have entered a photo in a competition on Flickr. The entries are very many, and mostly amazing, so my chances of success are slim, but - hey!

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