I thought I’d overslept on Sunday, it was so bright outside when I woke up, but no, it had snowed unexpectedly. Not ideal for my promised Mothers Day lie in, but perfect for a bit of back garden skiing practice. (I did get breakfast in bed before the skiing began.)
The old dog gambols about like a pup when it snows, I guess the smells all change when the ground’s covered. We get deer coming in to the garden too when it’s cold and that’s about the most exciting thing that can happen in a dog’s world. (Second only to a trespassing cat.) One of these days I’ll knit him a pair of booties for the winter; he won’t appreciate them, but it’ll stop me shivering when I look at his bare feet in the snow.
There was a shocking knitting crime committed last night. Not by me (unless you count the stupid mistakes that caused me to rip back the frost flowers hat), but by the BBC in Call the Midwife.
Yes, she’s pretending to knit a crocheted square. No wonder she’s holding on to it so tightly!
I was very tempted to email the Beeb a ‘come on, you can do better than that’ missive, but I’m sure someone else will have done it by now. They may have redeemed themselves instantly by using several of Kate Davies’ designs in the very next programme broadcast last night.
My mindless knitting scarf is just a foot or so short of its finished length so there is a chance of a finished object tomorrow. No promises mind.