I am sitting at my favourite table in my favourite cafe in my favourite town at the top of the Mountains, sipping hot tea and watching the world go by ...
... and this nasty mess of wool is nesting in my lap. The untangling process has begun. You know how it got to be like this, don't you? [see "What The Dog Did"]. I need not say more.
I had thought I might try casting on stitches for the beginnings of baby socks, but I gave up that notion when I saw the extent of this sad woolly tangle.
And all the while I am basking in sunlight and admiring embroidered cushions with bright coloured flowers,
and bobbly fringes.
I've drunk three cups of tea in the bright morning sun, and have untangled and balled-up this much yarn.
But I've bundled it up now and paid for my tea. And back up the hill there are daisies in baskets, (it must be a happy thing to own a flower shop),
and there are pink tarts and brown sprinkly sweet things in the baker's window. I am looking (but not buying) ...
And now I have finished, after stoppings and startings. Untangled, re-balled, and ready for socks (tiny ones). Just another one of my favourite things.