My signature block is safely glued into my FTB vintage album and I'm happy with the blank pages I've created.

The first page is always the most nerve-racking for me. It sets the tone for the rest. Anything less than pleasing feels like disaster.

I began by using a glue which turned out to be too wet for the paper I was putting down. I tried to improve the problem by adding a photograph and some paint but the page looked a mess. Since it was the flyleaf page I knew I had to work with my mistakes. I pulled off as much of the wrinkly tissue paper as I could and rescued the photograph.

I want everything to have significance so even the strip of ledger paper (from my father's old accounts book) and the scrap of red and white tape (twisted around a gift of pens) means something, if only to me.

57 more pages to go!

I have joined my second on-line course with Mary Ann Moss. She calls this her Full Tilt Boogie class. It may sound like virtual dancing but no - we are making visual journals from vintage albums and books. Our inspiring teacher shows on video how to turn precious paper souvenirs and accumulated scraps into personal pages of rare beauty. 

I have my fabulous vintage photo album with its velvet backing, ornate clasps and gold-edged pages.

The board frames inside are decorated with delicate gold tracery. I'll remove these in one block to make another book later on.

I have some bookcloth (the real thing from a bookbinders' supplier), some tapes and some special pens. I've ordered the right glue and linen thread on-line as these things are unavailable in my part of France.

Hester has given me an enormous calendar to cut up for pages. It's all about collections, like these match folders from just about everywhere. The calendar is Dutch.

I've printed some photographs on A4 paper to use as backgrounds for collaging and writing.

Three of my four aunts, photographed by my grandfather in 1920.

I'll write small stories about my sisters and my aunts. And the many anecdotes my mother told me about the war.

The weather is atrocious here at present so we are more or less stuck indoors. Just as soon as my Modge Podge glue and my waxed thread arrives, I'll be up in my under-the-roof work space, cutting and sticking and smiling. Inspiration, thy name is Mary Ann!

Every year, our dear friends Nella and Jet leave their husbands behind in Holland and spend a week in La Borne. They both work with clay, making jewellery. Nella makes bird whistles too.

We spent an evening with them in their holiday gîte nearby. It's the prettiest one in the village.

As we drank our wine, Nella showed us some of her bird whistles. Jet (pronounced Yet) asked us to sign the book I wrote about Hugh's childhood.

We ate supper inside when the evening grew chilly - although not cold enough, of course, to light this wood stove. It was made from an oil barrel and is one of many to be found in the old La Borne houses. The pipes are left exposed, upstairs and down, so that none of the heat is wasted and bedrooms are kept cosy.

I asked Nella to show us how she makes her whistles. They are so small, and their sound so accurate, that the whole thing was a mystery to me. These are all the tools she needs, kept in a little tin box. Everything is small scale, including the tiny drill piece.

Nella makes two pinched pots and puts them together to form a sphere about the size of a quail's egg.

Next she lightly beats the shape until it becomes more pointed at one end, more bird-like.

A pea-sized piece of clay makes the head.

A darning needle is used to make both eyes. These also serve to hold a triangular loop of silver for threading on a chain.

Now for the air inlets and outlets, made with a thin strip of steel, specially cut to make exactly the right slanting holes.

Nella frequently tests the whistle, even at this stage when the clay is quite damp, to ensure that the sound is correct and the airway clear.

She made two birds, one from some porcelain Hugh gave her (enough, she says, for at least a thousand!), the other from his raku clay.

The all-important holes for the musical notes are made using the mini drill piece.

These are some of the many whistles Nella brought with her in a special velvet jeweller's roll. Some are glazed, others are polished with one of the stones from her tool box. She incises them, when they have hardened a little before firing, to indicate wings.

When Jet travels, as she loves to do, to places like Mali, she always comes back with a small sample of the local clay. This row of whistles brings together many countries of the globe.

The real skill is revealed when the whistles are blown. They may have two notes for a simple bird song or more for a proper tune. They are all delightful with the added bonus that they make lovely jewellery worn on a silver chain or on a cord.

Nella gave me a bird whistle and Jet gave me this beautiful and intriguing pendant necklace. It was made from Hugh's raku clay, his own recipe. The decoration comes from using human hair (from her son) placed on the piece while it is still hot from the kiln.

I shall enjoy wearing these generous presents from our Dutch friends.

I'm so busy at present that I've had no time to blog.

We were given these beautiful quinces the other day. I'll use some in a Moroccan recipe and try to find time to make the rest into quince jelly, the way I did last year.

I'm spending a lot of time on a Christmas present for two of our granddaughters. It involves a tree, a nest, birds, eggs and baskets.

When it's finished, I'll show the whole thing.

Click on the pics!

My fabulous journey with Mary Ann Moss on her Remains of the Day course is going very well.

I've made four Shabby Journal covers without spending a single euro on materials. Everything comes from my hoards of paper and souvenirs and fabrics.

I think of this one as my 'practise' journal. Things went wrong and had to be patched over but, as Mary Ann says, 'Everything can be fixed. Everything.'

And so it was. I struggled with my punch, my drill, my waxed thread... Here's how the cover looks. Very late last night I sewed the signatures into it, thinking I could sleep peacefully having achieved that. But no, my mind was busy for hours with ideas for more covers, more pages, more shabby inventing.

These pages were made from (on the left) old French schoolbooks, a sticker from an orange, a piece of embroidery from a birthday card and a transparent envelope which once held a posh bookmark. On the right, quite a plain page made from a poster for a show at the Tate Gallery in London, a ticket from Hugh's new Australian hat (I added the purple ribbon), part of a 57-year-old book's dust cover and a book mark from Peru with a hand-sewn felt picture.

These pages look rather empty but I want to leave plenty of space for adding more scraps and lots of writing.

I still have heaps of pages ready to go. The effects of this class are on-going. There's no reason why I shouldn't make many more. I've already had an order from Hugh for a larger one to his own specifications!

Click on the pics!

I am a great fan of American artist and teacher, Mary Ann Moss. Her blog is a joy to look at and to read and I visit it every day to see what's happening in her world. As she says, L A is just a click away.

Her latest course, Remains of the Day, is available now and I'm a member of the class. I chose this as a Christmas present from Hugh.

As soon as Christmas is over, I'll be up in my tiny 'studio' under the roof, sorting through my enormous hoard of papers and souvenirs and fabrics. Then, together with who knows how many others from all over the world, I'll be making just the sort of journal scrap books that I've always longed for. In a way, I've been keeping an illustrated diary since I could hold a pencil.

My collection of papers is manageable but my fabric scraps are a bit of a disgrace. Never mind, I'll be ready in January to embark on this exciting adventure.

The grey weather today makes it almost impossible to take good pictures but the outlook is very bright!

Click on the pics!

Our grandaughters had birthdays this week. Ysella was five on Thursday and Tegen was three yesterday.

I made them a carry bag each, lined with pretty fabric.

We found some delightful finger puppets at IKEA, just the right size for tiny fingers. The workmanship is exquisite. As I popped some into the pockets - and the rest inside with their cards and some pocket money - I hoped that the people who made them were paid a decent wage. It's hard to see how, though, since they cost so little.

Click on the pics and see the fine details!

Happy birthdays, girls!