Last night I finished my Ladyfingers bag, with light purple beads and the handles I bought in Germany.
This was my first attempt at Dresden plate pattern, but with the special Dresden ruler the sweet Stephanie sent me with the Ladyfingers pattern I won in her giveaway, it was no problem. Originally I wanted to make this with my father's ties, but as the material is more difficult to handle than cotton, I practiced with this one first.
I made the inside pocket a little wider than in the pattern as I was not using charm packs but fabrics from my stash. (Who could have guessed?)
Now that Melanie and Simone have shown theirs, I can show mine. Here are the coffee place mats dear Suzie gave me when I met her in Germany.
Now I'll take you for a walk in the village, as it was a sunny day on Monday. This is the biggest pond, right next to the highschool, with a nice little beach for warm summer days.
Only a small area was free of ice, and all the waterbirds were gathered there.
The local whooper swan family was there, and a new adult alone, maybe one of the last year's cygnets. Swans gather together for their move, and on the west coast you can see hundreds of them, eating themselves fat and round, and waiting for a suitable flight weather.
This is one of the parents, with white feathers.
And the other one. They have three young swans left, one of the four died during the summer.
The young swans still have grey feathers, and their bills are rather pink and grey than yellow and black. One is half-diving like ducks!
Usually they only dip their head and neck in the water to find something to eat.
The ice was very thin, and it bent and made funny noises when the mallards climbed on it. Slippery!
The mallards either made attacks at each other or wanted to keep the water in motion to prevent the ice from forming.
The male mallards' green heads looked beautiful in the sun.
After yesterday's cold weather and snow the swans had left for open water and only some of the smaller birds remained. During last night it rained again, so the mallards may come back, but for the whooper swans it is time to fly south. I'll be waiting to hear their trumpets again in April when they return here to nest.