Choice is a good thing, they say, and I agree. But then, they also say it’s possible to have too much of a good thing, and I think there are times when there might be something in this. Unless we’re talking about love, compassion, understanding… little things like that. Or ice cream. You can NEVER have too much ice cream, even in January, outside, when it’s raining. And who the heck are ‘they’, anyway? Continue reading
‘Whatever has happened to the fussball table project?’ I’m sure I heard at least one of you – in tones of ill-disguised anxiety (you were probably wringing your hands in grave and fretful concern at the time) – enquire just recently, as I sat, Thinker-like, contemplating the subject of my next post. ‘Are the players now squeaky clean? Do both the pitch and the men now exude the clean but curious blend of carbolic and cologne?’ Continue reading
Now, come on… Surely we all know the answer to that one? OK, just in case, here’s a clue…
No? Still not there? OK, so here’s a picture of me in my first ever hand-knitted WOOLLY JUMPER. Continue reading
So here’s the thing… I’m pooped this week. Absolutely cream crackered. So what better solution – assuming you’ll forgive me for it! – to the conflict between the urge to be creative and post on the one hand, and the almost entire lack of mental activity taking place within the tired confines of my aching skull on the other, than to sneak in a lazy one.
Actually, I’m excited – in a creamy crackeredy kind of a way Continue reading
When it’s a humongous cover for a bolster cushion, naturally.
It all started in the late summer of 2012 when I developed terrible and apparently interminable back and neck pain. Goodness knows what triggered this. Suspects at the time – none of whom were then or have since been brought adequately to justice – included a poor understanding of what to do with my neck at yoga (I was then but a mere novice, squeaky in my shiny newness), my inexcusably poor posture while seated at my desk during office hours, and my inconvenient habit of sleeping on my front. Continue reading
As it turns out, what really got me back into crafty pursuits was my sister’s need for a woolly hat that didn’t make her look like she was about to go and work on an oil rig for the winter. (Actually, I’d already knitted a scarf – my first – by this time, but that’s another story.)
This was about 18 months ago now. I visited my sister at her home in Austria, where we searched for a headpiece that would do her feminine locks justice. Continue reading