Only Eighteen To My Mother

Morning gloryYesterday morning someone tampered with my camera.  When I came to download pictures, I found a number of shots of Morning Glory on the device.  I suppose I’d better print one.

The culprit this morning repotted a splendid white begonia which isn’t so far behind the multitude of others.

Begonias et al

BegoniaI began the day by adding more than a ridiculous 25% to the cost of the removal from Sutherland Place.  The suspension of two parking bays was required, at a cost of £84 in addition to the £16 already paid for the trade permit.

Guards lining The Mall

Elizabeth then rang just before we were about to leave for The Firs, to tell me that the Guards lining The Mall card had sold well and to suggest I made a larger print suitable for one of her mounts.  I did so.  The tale of the making of this picture is told in the post of 8th May (click here for post).  It was late night shopping at The Firs today.  Given that Thursday is the day the shops in the West End of London remain open until 8 p.m. I imagine it is only appropriate that West End, Southampton’s studio should do the same.

In the two days I have not visited there have been more sales including nineteen of my cards, only eighteen of which went to my mother.  More were sold today.

Studio entranceEach day Danni has gradually evolved the definitive display of the various works.  This has meant the artists having a good look round to find where their own pieces are on any particular day.  Mine, for example, are now largely en bloc on their original wall, having spent the last few days individually wandering around the room. This afternoon Jackie decided to extend the pink balloon theme at the entrance.  She raided the conservatory for any suitably coloured plants and lined them up on either side of the path to the door.

Two of Elizabeth’s university friends, Barbara and Marcella, having come for the weekend, joined us all this evening for the excellent spaghetti Bolognese cooked by Danni and stirred by Andy, after Jackie had chopped the ingredients.  There was French bread between the slices of garlic drenched in butter that were heated in the oven.  Various cakes and custard were to follow.  Red and white wines were imbibed.  Jackie and I ate and she hastily drove us home.

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