I've always done a lot of different things - quilts and making dolls and stained glass - but this has been the most rewarding.

He was like a shattered stained-glass window: something beautiful that's broken; a million colours fallen on the ground where no light can get through.

I figured, rather than hanging curtains I'd use stained glass,

The stained-glass windows are original, although we had to have this little transom restored.

And is it true? And is it true, / This most tremendous tale of all, / Seen in a stained-glass window's hue, / A Baby in an ox's stall?

I look at it and decide, 'You need to be a bunny rabbit' or whatever.