Heads up to Freyalynn

I finished it! It's yours on Thursday if you approve of it.....



This is a better photo, I think. If quirky.



I do enjoy doing spirals, but I have projects piling up on the stocks that I am itching to get too, so good that this is finished - a just reward, mind you, for those machine knitting blanks...I'm going to see if I can't screw up my courage to do the seaside amulet bag next, but I am being rather daunted by the thought of yet more teeny tiny delicas. I could use a magnifier of some sort, but then I get to see the finger nails and cuticles in all there glory, and I am not sure that I can stomach that.

And, about time for a gratuitous cat pic.



They are clinging somewhat at the moment. We are leaving them alone a bit too much. Plus it is cold. There might also be a nasty big cat out there who duffed up poor old Neelix (recovered now, but a few painful-looking holes in strategic places.)

They got left alone all day yesterday whilst we had an expotition to Manchester. In the vain hope that we might have a warmer season, I decided that the wardrobe needed reviving. This is not always an easy task - one possible place tends to go in for clothes that are too smart and citified, not to mention too yellow (amongst other bright shades); the other flies in quite the opposite direction. By dint of waving far too much plastic around town, I was actually quite successful - and the nice thing is, most of it is cotton and linen - well, linen and viscose, anyway.

For once style and me converge a bit - I wanted long flowing skirts, and by george, there they were. These are the sort of thing I could make, but until I get around to sorting out a new sewing machine - which won't be for a few months - then it will have to wait. Anyway, I did enjoy the clothes-shopping bit (I'm funny like that) but Manchester - any town - is not really my idea of fun most days. One of those occasions when Starbucks are a blessing rather than a curse. There is always one around, just when the noise and bad air gets to you. A nice reviving cup of chai went down a treat.

OK, I had better go and get cracking in the kitchen. I promised the DSM a quiche for supper, and he does so love to disprove the old maxim that real men don't eat quiche, so I mustn't let him down.

No other fibre or bead progress of any kind to report. What a slacker!