In our old house, I kept a pincushion on my ironing board and another on my bedside table. It didn't take me long to realize that my nest was sorely lacking in this department. After a wee bit of pin-spiration, I remembered a picture my Grandmother gave me for no particular reason other than to be rid of it. At least if there is a special story about it, she didn't tell me! And then bam - the idea was there and the timing was right.
And there you have it. A peachy perfect pincushion. That fabric doesn't match one single thing in this room but it makes me happy - c'est la vie.
And now for the art history lesson.
I was kind of amused to dismantle the picture frame to find that the original framed work was a little print of The Herring Net by Winslow Homer, a self-taught American painter whose works I rather enjoy. What a treat. I think I'll keep it.