Today dawned as a nice bright day with temperatures still warm but just a tad lower than yesterday so a very pleasant day upon which to make our trip into town. Now I am going to talk about the unlikely subject of cushions. Now there are cushions and cushions but that is only the start of the story. I should point out that the venues that Meg and I can now visit are so much more restricted since I cannot get Meg into the car any more – subsequently, our world view is confined to what we can reach by by pushing Meg in her wheelchair either to the park or to our local Waitrose. Consequently, our home environment means a lot more to us that formerly. My cushion story starts with a chance discovery in our local Salvation Army charity shop (not a purveyor of many fine goods as charity shops go, I have to say) where about a year ago I came across an absolutely stunning cushion. This has an owl appliqued onto a midnight sky background but as the owl has a degree of padding there is a slight 3-D effect. The whole cushion has a series of baby owls appliqued on the back and must have taken some hours of dedicated and expert needlework to produce, The extraordinary thing is that I discovered this cushion in the midst of several other quite pedestrian pieces so its true worth stood unappreciated. Now this cushion forms the backdrop to a little surface area which I call ‘owl corner’ as I have several owls to sit here including some pottery owl night light holders, some wooden carved owls and some of the more conventional plaster pieces. Around this collection, I have assembled a series of cushions with a similar feel. The next piece along is a decorated ‘golden goose’ and I have another specimen decorated with what could be canaries or yellow hammers. To complete the collection, I have an Artic fox cushion and finally a red squirrel ‘Squirrel Nutkin’ specimen. Those familiar with the Beatrix Potter story will be aware of the affinity of owls and squirrels in any case. So when Meg is in need of a little diversion other than the TV, I sit her in her wheelchair in front of ‘owl corner’ and she can admire the slight panorama that I have assembled just here. I must admit, I had not realised how popular animal themes are on cushion covers but I still keep a sharp eye out for a good example when I see one of the genre. This is the first part of the cushion story but the second chapter concerns some of the superb quilted cushions which Meg’s very talented cousin, Margot, made for us when she was still alive. These are superb examples of the quilter’s art and Margot became very talented even being part of a demonstration of her craft in, I believe, Westminster Abbey. The two pieces that Margot has bequeathed to us now adorn the one of the captain’s chairs and the monk’s bench which sits in our hall and can be admired by any/all visitors to the house. The third category of cushion covers are the more abstract designs the colours and textures of which just happen to match well some of the wooden furniture pieces we have assembled over the months. Whereas one is used to the nation of ‘scatter cushions’ often in one colour and material, which can go anywhere, the cushion covers I have accumulated are in a different league. Some cushion covers because of their texture, design, colour and materials look absolutely right on a particular piece of furniture but others less so. So one of the minor ‘avenues of pleasure’ that remain to me (to borrow a phrase adapted from John Cleese in Fawlty Towers) is to make a careful judgement as to which of our collection looks best where. for example, I only decided this morning that the red Thai silk cushion cover (all 95p of it) decorated with a procession of elephants looks best on one of our recently acquired ‘good’ chairs but just a little silly elsewhere.
As we had planned, we were preparing to go for a longer wheelchair walk into town this morning but first our son called around to see us which was a very welcome sight after he had spent some days away. Then we popped into town but as we passed the crash site of a couple of days ago, I was a smidgeon disappointed that my single, now wilting, rose was the only floral tribute left for the casualty and I expected more of the good heartedness of the local residents. We made our way to our new found cafe via the Bromsgrove Cobbler where we left them our two watches both Meg’s and my own having given up the ghost within a day of each other. In the cafe we were joined by our University of Birmingham friend and his new found squeeze and I updated them with the happenings of the past few days. Meg and I had a sort of bacon baguette between us, served with a few croquettes for good measure and a cup of tea. After that we visited our favourite AgeUk store and relieved them of a few more cushions to add to our stock and then made our way home, via Waitrose where we collected our newspaper. We had just about got back in time before the late morning carers were due to call and then immediately consumed some salted caramel ice cream to cool us down as it is still pretty warm and humid. We neither of felt particularly hungry so I prepared a type of Spanish omelette which was onions, peppers, petit pois and a tin of tuna all spiced up nth a little sweet chilli sauce which served the purpose well on a hot day and was all we fancied. Immediately after lunch, Meg and I really enjoyed watching the British team taking the team showjumping gold medal which was all the better for being somewhat unexpected. Thinking about the sports at which we do excel, I do remember how at the time of the last Olympics a rather grumpy Australian commented that the Brits seemed to exceed at any sport in which you sat down (horseriding, rowing, canooing, cycling) and I suppose there is something in that. We also observed some of the sailing races which seem baffling in their complexity and in the race that we watched there was a lot of confusion as to where the actual winning line was meant to be.
© Mike Hart [2024]