I love wreaths on doors. I love how they make doors more friendly, how they mark the change of the seasons or express the personality of the owners or simply make things prettier.
Yesterday, because it’s September and September is the month of new beginnings (January, schmanuary) and because we’ve been away so much this summer that the house has been a little ignored, I decided it was time to rectify this and give a little of tlc to this gorgeous pile of brick and mortar we call home.
I popped to my mum’s future garden (they’re moving to England, from Italy in a few months) and raided the hydrangea bush.
Don’t you love hydrangeas?
Then I simply cut the stems quite short, about two inches long, and stuck them into a florist sponge wreath I’ve had in the cupboard since last Christmas (don’t ask).
As a matter of fact the whole day began with me tidying up the pantry cupboards and accidentally founding it … that was my goal for yesterday, sorting out the messy pantry… easily distracted? Moi?
Anyway, you keep going round and round, sticking hydrangea heads into the wreath till you’re done. It’s that easy. Hardly worth talking about except I had so much fun I had to share.
In other news whilst I was ‘playing’ No 2 child decided to iron his own t-shirt ahead of a party in the afternoon, something I consider a triumph of excellent parenting on my behalf rather than a blatant sign of teenage neglect as he claimed. Kids, what do they know, right? (Also, he had decided to re-wash his favourite ‘reverse weave’ (again, don’t ask…) sweatshirt because I had dared using fabric softener and made it all soft…. what a horrible mother I am, obvs. Soft clothes, terrible things apparently. Who knew.
Let’s look at the wreath then, and ignore the weirdness I’m surrounded by.
For your information the pantry is still a mess.