I’ve been having a bit of a mustard moment recently. Couple that with a healthy belief that our walls are too white, and it seemed for a while somewhat inevitable that we would very soon have a mustard coloured living room, and a fairly unhappy Andy (I assume unhappy, because, let’s be honest, mustard really isn’t an always and everywhere colour).
Luckily, I’m also always having a bit of a plant moment, and when I saw this via Emily Henderson’s blog, I thought to myself ‘well, I already have the fiddle-leaf fig’, and instead tottered to the Bauhaus to get myself a tub of emerald paint.
Obviously, we rent, and I shudder to think of the number of paint coats it would take to get the walls white again when we finally leave Berlin.
I mentioned that this year I’m going to try to spend our birthday/Christmas money on art/crafty stuff. So thanks muchly to my Aunt P. and Uncle P., who sponsored this new colourful addition. It cost 25 euros for the canvas (which used to be this, but we figured that was too dark for the room), and about 10 euros more to buy some emerald paint.
I know we’re not artists, but we just wanted something with colour and texture. It makes me happy, it doesn’t make Andy angry, and if I hate it in two weeks time I can always just paint on over it.
I just re-potted the fiddle-leaf fig (in the corner), and moved it from the kitchen into the sunny living room (the ficus, which is a constant disappointment to me, was banished to the shaded kitchen). It seems so much happier in Berlin than in Potsdam, and I’m hoping that with a bigger pot and more sun, it will hit the roof by the end of summer.
You may have noticed from the first shot that I’ve also been furiously making cushions.
I still have about 2 m of the mustard fabric (from Amsterdam), so I think there might be a dress or top coming in the not-too-distant future.
The little spotty guy used to be a jumper, but I rather unfortunately put in near the heater to dry and it shrunk several sizes.
Here it is in a previous life, participating in ‘the manic dance of the plastic bag’.
I kind of love making cushions. Every time I sew something and it goes not-too-well (I’m still strangely resistant to using patterns, and my ‘self-drafted’ concepts don’t always work in practice), I stop, and sew a cushion instead. I’m fairly convinced that ‘too many cushions’ is not a thing.
That lovely mobile is from my in-laws. Fantastic eh?
And finally, my little curly-edged fern, who is definitely my favourite fern. I’ve decided that if I can’t be a crazy cat lady, I can at least by a potty plant person or something. Probably I will have to give them all names. Let us call this one ‘Winston’.
Edit: Because I couldn’t put it on facebook: