The loss of yesterday's posting just demonstrates how transient this life is. Bit of philosophy there.
For those of you who missed it while it was visible, it detailed a trip to Newcastle, the usual struggle with finding suitable garments, the usual struggle with the fitting rooms, losing DH in Marks and Sparks, an exceedingly strong cup of coffee in Bainbridge's poncy new "brasserie", and coming home in triumph with new jeans, for a nice lie down.
Here's the recent project I've been working on. It's a small rug, about 3 feet square, made from a box of rug wool that I inherited from my mother when she died in 1983. We both used to make rugs from thrums, which were offcuts from the looms of carpet manufacturers, and which they sold in bags of mixed colours. Mum used to buy hers from a place in Hebden Bridge, and from the Axminster factory. This rug also uses some wool from the now defunct Durham carpet factory. The cat really likes it, but he looks strange on it, being striped himself.
And just to prove that I haven't been idling while I've been watching QI, CSI, and other abbreviations on television, here's the latest pair of mittens. Just in time for Bonfire Night, which I shall avoid like the plague, being terrified of explosives.
I apologise for the wool rich content of this posting.