Hope Springs

I am on the outs with the weather, holding it at a distance as a friend or lover who has delivered a thoughtless slight but cannot be cut loose.  "Not personal," of course, and I can't pretend it's so, but still I don't care to reengage and can't forgive.  It's no coincidence that every thing I seem to be ripping from magazines and pulling from showrooms is green.  Apple and kelly and acid, anything for every room to cut the gloom of the clouds and the rain.  Suddenly, there seems to be a place for satin, space for leather and always a spot for chintz.  Ribbon from a friend's gift graces my inspiration board and boxwood balls bounce across the front beds and still it is not enough.

I need spring.

These are not meant to be used together or even in the same room. They are, clockwise from the largest leather sample top, B. Berger Green Leaf, Garrett Leather Chatham Chartreuse, Cowtan & Tout, Moss Rose, which would be on my office chairs now if it were not for Dexter, Serena & Lily Grass Trellis, which will live at my kitchen windows eventually, if I could just focus long enough to figure yardage, ribbon from a dear friend and Schumacher Honeycomb in Lettuce from the Mary McDonald collection.

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