My little quilty houses are going very well; I have managed a whole village, soon to be a town. On the other hand I have failed to finish any of the nine hundred other projects I have on the go. I started my Canadian quilt a couple of weeks ago but it is so damned difficult you really have to be in the mood and feel quite well which I, with this awful snuffling cold, am definitely not.
Fabulous book on knitted dogs has arrived. I feel a poodle coming on. Need yarn - something white and poodly.
I am sure Mr Smith would like to go away on golf tour or something so I can make things without him tutting. I like making things, I don't like tutting. He has handed me a VERY IMPORTANT financial letter which I am pretending I've read. I did try to read it but I got a bit lost at ISAs and bonds and things. Surely he knows what I keep him for; so I don't have to look at boring bits of incomprehensible financial scary stuff. I feel an apron coming on with nice red ties and dogs on the pocket.
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