Skyscrapers and String

Sticks, Strings and Feathers

It is no secret that I like hoarding nice things. Upstairs I have hundreds of balls of yarn, a rainbow of inspiration just begging to be transformed. In my kitchen there are enough exotic ingredients to produce 50 different dinners. The rest of my family are equally Gollum-like when it comes to their interests.

Yesterday, by moving the furniture in our living space we uncovered my cat’s favourite toys. Now, it lies sleeping on them all, against the wall, in a place it would never consider sitting otherwise. How is it that animals can take on a family’s characteristics? I have lain, more times than I can count, dozing upstairs amidst my wool, it is a secret enjoyment on lazy home days, equally as enjoyable when the weather is bad as when the sun streams through the windows and warm currents swish about indoors, like today. Also, you might find me with a halo of craft books to left and right, asleep, snoring gently. It is extremely comforting to have an abundance of nice things.

In my wool chest next to where I sit during the day, I put some fabulous soap which smells of winter forests. This chest is crammed with my sewing things, and with wool. When I open the chest, the smell is heavenly.

Today is my last day at home, the garden is our focus. A short walk to the garden centre should get me some compost to finish my herb beds. The sun is out and I have lots of stuff. My cat and I are firmly of the opinion that today is going to be great.



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