I DO it avidly, in the evening, watching television,’ the Countess of Hopetoun tells me. ‘At home, although not in the summer, watching the television,’ agrees Romilly, Lady McAlpine. They are discussing the needlepoint that, for both, is a lifelong love, a habit begun in childhood.
In 1960, the author of the catalogue of an important American collection of historic textiles described all types of needlework as ‘principally domestic art forms [that] reflect more informal aspects of social life than almost any other branch of the decorative arts’. Certainly, this rings true of needlepoint in my life. On winter evenings, my wife, Grainne, establishes herself on the club fender, a Fabled Thread canvas across her knees as the fire warms her fingers
