Last Saturday morning I woke up to this.*
I still have loads of unpacking and organizing to do, but I heard the siren song scream of some no longer patiently waiting cashmere.
It came from a lovely spot in New Mexico.
Rather, it came from a goat who lives there.
Some of it still had some guard hairs and bits of veg to be removed.
And I’m spinning it up rustic – who says cashmere needs to be fine and dainty?
But my view wasn’t so pleasant.
So it was only the briefest of spinning sessions, and then I got back to work on what I was supposed to be doing…
(I finally have a clear path through the room.)
*But we were mostly spared the brunt of the latest storm (and a word to the media – don’t call a storm “historic” that hasn’t even happened yet – shame on you)…
ASTITCHMATISM 