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pegged

In the absence of the great Australian dream where a Hills Hoist looms large against a Sir Walter Buffalo lawn, Janine’s handmade peg bag has pride of place in my inner city apartment. It doesn’t hold any pegs (yet), but it’s far too pretty to be folded up and stashed away in a box. One of her unfinished projects, cross stitch many years old, cut up and transformed. I love the roses, they look pixelated to me.

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