No news from any foreign coast

Yesterday we went up north to visit Son and family. We took with us the kilt that Mr L's mother made for Son when he was 6 and we were invited to Mr L's cousin's wedding. Kilts, made properly (and this one was - my MIL was a very good seamstress) take a lot of material and kilt-making is a skill. Medium Granddaughter is only 5, so it was a bit big for her, but having tried it on, she wore it for quite a long time. Notice also the sporran that used to belong to my brother when he was a little boy. He's going to be 74 tomorrow (happy birthday, P) so the sporran must be almost 70 years old. I'm not sure that either Medium or her little brother will get a lot of use out of the kilt but there might be the occasional school ceilidh or something. Or maybe not - she goes to a very small village school - but anyway, the kilt has been handed on. 

It was so lovely to see the family. I miss them. 

We've gradually been putting pictures back up on the walls that were recently redecorated. One of my excellent ideas (how my husband loves my ideas...) was to move the paintings that were on the staircase (that I was a bit worried would get faded by the sun) into the darker back part of the hall, and to move the blue plates in the back hall on to the staircase, since the sun wouldn't damage them. 

We've had these plates since shortly after we moved into the previous house - so, about 45 years - and I bought them in bits and pieces at antique fairs because I liked them and I wanted to distract attention from a rather bumpy wall in the dining room. Also they were quite fashionable - it being the era of Laura Ashley, Victoriana and so on. Over the years I'm sure they became unfashionable but I still liked them, and now I'm told that they've become quite trendy again. Having taken them down for the redecoration, I considered not putting them up again but am quite fond of them - though did manage to cull my three least favourite.

We've been putting off hanging them again because of course it's much more difficult to hang plates of different shapes and sizes on a slanting wall than a straight one, in any planned and sensible-looking arrangement. However, today was the day. Here's Mr L considering the situation.

We tried various configurations. 

The piece of string that you can faintly see on the floor is supposed to represent the slope of the wall. 

We did it in the end. Mr L was very patient. They will never move again till we downsize, by which time they may go to a charity shop because I don't think I can do this to the poor man again. 

In other words, nothing much has been happening. I haven't quite been able to justify starting another quilt (there are a few pictures still to go up) and I feel rather glum what with one thing and another. But one must count one's blessings.