"It's genetic!" heralds another youthful misdemeanour in this house. Sometimes the cause is a new, a very logical ( I approve), system of cat food storage that ensures that our cat gets both meat and fish equally. Sometimes this statement is said with reference to the wet floor after someone (my daughter or I) have had a bath, but more often than not it comes from the mouth of my husband as he spies a dressmaker's pin somewhere it shouldn't be. It makes me smile. I shouldn't
A pebble; a card from promoting the Peter Layton London Glassblowing Studio; a post-it note; a compass; a drawing in an improvised bulldog-clip stand; a vintage crochet hook; books which, to my mind, should be grouped together.
Needs must this week. I needed a new mobile phone case, but I couldn't find one that I liked enough to buy. Crunch time came when I went to the Apple Mac store with my phone wrapped in a sock, and I received some disbelieving looks when I rang my husband to tell him I would be late. A sock hanging down the side of your face is not a good look. The sock really was not practical–even if it was a lovely sock. The quick solution was to make a case, and because I had a lot of yar