Evelyn turns seven tomorrow. Which is shocking. Shocking! Every year their birthdays seem to take me by surprise. I'm never quite ready for them to turn another year older. But I suppose all mothers are a little like that.
For years Evelyn, unlike Briton who always knows exactly what he wants for birthdays, has been very vague about gifts. "Something pink!" "A furry animal." "A new dress." This year, however, she's been very specific about what she wants (thankfully things that are easily getable) one of them being a tiara.
For her party, a fairy tea party in the woods (oh please let it be sunny!) we are making wings for each guest instead of goody bags and to make sure that all the little fairies feel...fairyish... Per her request we'll make wands and dance by the creek and have little jars of fairy dust and tea under the leaves unless it's raining, in which case we'll have tea in the livingroom.
And, she asks, can I wear a tiara? Because it's my birthday.
So amist making a fabric scrap table runner for the tea table and wings for twelve little fairies and a bunting (well, two) and cake, we needed a tiara. Which, surprisingly, was actually just the kind of project I needed during a busy, crammed, last week of school kind of week. Because if there are just a few scraps on the end of the table runner, the fairies won't notice. A little will do. I'd much rather curl up on the couch and embroider something special for my little, except not so little, girl.
Scraps of wool felt and some free hand (don't look too closely, I really don't know what I'm doing) flowers mixed up with ribbon and one o fthe fancy stitches from my trusty, lovely sewing machine and we have a tiara.
Now back to the wings.