Walking in a Winter Wonderland

Christmas Cookies in Blue



Saturday, September 1, 2012

Sugarpaste Silver Spurs ( a tutorial)




Gray colored firm gumpaste. This really needs to be a very firm paste.

Fondant roller




Gum Glue ( 1/4 tsp Tylose mixed with 1 tsbp hot water )

(for decorative use only)




Roll out gumpaste about 1/8"(*or a bit more) thickness on a well dusted board.( *A bit thicker is better

on the spurs to maintain stability during the drying process.)

Using wheel cutter, cut one using pattern. Flip pattern and cut one more.

Cut one spur using the daisy cutter.
***
Texture your spurs using a textured roller or impression mat. Or find something around your house that

would make an appropriate texture. In this case, I used an ivory cased carving set. It worked great to

make a western style impression.

In this photo, I used a textured rolling pin.

***

Cover the spurs with plastic wrap to protect from drying,

and paint the daisy using gold highlighter.


Uncover and turn the spurs over. Using the white colored portion
of your pattern as a guide, moisten the spurs with gumglue.

Place the daisy at the end and gently press the moistened spurs into the daisy.
Now press the spurs together as shown.

Position the circle cookie cutter on the top of a tall water glass.
Place the spur on the cutter ( as shown) to dry.
If your spurs want to slip, secure lightly with tape.
The firmer the gumpaste, the less likely to move or stretch.


When dry paint the spurs with silver highlighter luster dust and retouch the
daisy if necessary, then
spray with sugar lacquer to set the luster dust.

***
Spur Pattern Below

***


Tutorial and Photography by Jacque Benson
Copyright 2010
This material may not be reproduced without permission from the author.

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It sifts from leaden sieves,
It powders all the wood,
It fills with alabaster wool
The wrinkles of the road.

It makes an even face
Of mountain and of plain, —
Unbroken forehead from the east
Unto the east again.

It reaches to the fence,
It wraps it, rail by rail,
Till it is lost in fleeces;
It flings a crystal veil

On stump and stack and stem, —
The summer's empty room,
Acres of seams where harvests were,
Recordless, but for them.

It ruffles wrists of posts,
As ankles of a queen, —
Then stills its artisans like ghosts,
Denying they have been.

~Emily Dickinson