Well, they are done. For the most part. A little trimming will be necessary for the big ones, to even out where they were glued together, and maybe a spot of paint, too. At the moment, they are all together on the kitchen table, looking rather festive, even if I say so myself. Each is its own little self, no two are alike, and isn't that the beauty of doing things by hand? It is sad that handcrafting things has become so rare. My grandfather used to whittle. Does anyone born after 1960 even know what whittling is? And my grandmother, and my own mother, hand crocheted bedspreads, for a king-sized bed. I have them in my new linen closet in the garage, airing for use this winter. Okay, my butterflies are not permanent, but they are special, nevertheless. I hope.
No comments:
Post a Comment