Loving gifts

We limped back towards health today. Son 2 struggled back to school and made it through the day, although his teacher was a bit concerned by him towards the end of it - he was a little tearful, worrying about his mother...Son 1 was just about fit enough to come to work with me, so he slumped through three lessons reading the Beano etc, and decided he was well enough to join in with the last lesson - a group of Franco-British/Irish/Swedish/American/German pupils of his own age. He did quite well on a reading comprehension from a page of Twilight!He has announced that he is not quite ill any more, but not quite healthy: 'illthy', he decided. I'm either 'illthy' or 'hill' myself, and made it though the lessons with the help of a box of tissues.

I'm writing here amongst photos from my mum's collection of First World War handkerchiefs. (Perhaps the tissues got me thinking...)There must have been a huge cottage industry producing these sad little souveniers, with women working on them just behind the lines, I imagine.I find them almost unbearably sad, and although I love the embroidery and like the feel of history, I can't look at them as a collection - more a memorial to so much loss.Over at French Garden House, Lidy has an absolutely wonderful history of Society Silk Embroidery, with many beautiful examples of this turn of the century American artform.

Most of the French handkerchiefs aren't so perfect, but they clearly share the same stitches, threads and patriotic sentiments. Even though some of the handkerchiefs haven't stood up well to washing, I think they are worth looking at.

Unbearably poignant souveniers, from sons to their mothers...

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I am not going to leave you all sniffing! I am going to tell you instead that this weekend our little region outside of Toulouse is going to turn itself into Vide Greniersville! Watch this space...