Back in the day I had an endless capacity for craft. I would spend hours with a tiny, tiny brush hand painting jewellery. It was all very therapeutic.But I now know I'm a novice. On the walls of Margaret's home is a very large work of art created entirely from match sticks. Its creator, a former resident in the street, made it when she was rehabilitating from a leg injury. Thousands and thousands of matches went into it. It was meant to be a table top but when it was finished it was too heavy. So it was mounted on Margaret's wall and there is stayed. Last week she said I should have it. This is really touching but getting it the short distance from her house to ours was not going to be easy. I called on my handyman mate Warren. We recruited Oliver. Warren wasn't convinced that was enough to safely do the job. He decided we should put it back and muster more manpower. I'm not one to argue with a man with a drill. This is proving as difficult as I assume it was to create it in the first place. But no pain, no gain. It may be an ordeal but it will be worth it in the end.
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