The little dolls are called "root babies". I can't find a photo of the normal root babies I made but these are the Easter versions! They are very soft and squishy and mold to fit a child's hand. Unfortunately because they are full of rice they can't get wet which means that ours are now a delicate shade of grey through much use!
I am toying with the idea of making them both jointed "baby" dolls from the new arrival but don't know if I really need another project LOL!
I have always had a bit of an eclectic teaching style and been quite influenced by Steiner so love this little journey into the world of Steiner toys. We like to visit "Head, Heart and Hands" which is the most magical rainbow of a shop in our own little main street of Nairne. It has exquisite woolen and silk items and beautiful wooden animals and Steiner dolls and toys. If you are local and haven't visited you really should! I have spent far too much of the money I earn relief teaching in this shop! The wooden animals are particularly hard to resist... We are off there this morning looking for wool roving for the kindy and I just know that I will be tempted to do a bit of Christmas shopping! Visiting "Head, Heart and Hands" always makes me feel like throwing out all of the kids plastic junk and just having rooms full of natural, beautiful, handcrafted toys!
On a totally unrelated topic; something very strange is happening. I have always been a fan of soft florals, muted browns and blues but lately I find myself flirting more and more with colour. I borrow English Country Living from the library and ogle the gorgeous Kath Kidson prints and the lovely bright spotty teacups and vintage furniture. I read books like Seams to Me and Material Obsession just for the explosions of colour. I even have fat quarters like the red paisley creeping into my stash? I am obsessed with red and white spots (has become almost my signature fabric?) and I hadn't stopped to think about this strange obsession until visiting my friend in her new home. She was cradling her gorgeous new baby and showing me around when she pointed out her red kitchen stools. "I had to have them, even though they don't go with anything else" she said, "I just couldn't stop buying red things when I was pregnant!"
Which makes me wonder; is there something about pregnancy and red? Or did this changing of colour palettes begin happening before that? Why do colourful sights like thread spilling out of my embroidery tin make me perversely happy?
Why does this cheerful patchwork chair work for me when my husband thinks it is revolting?