Tangled

"a confused mess of something twisted together"

The wool that I have been buying recently has arrived in hanks that need to be wound into balls before use. I suppose all wool was in hanks years ago. I remember my mother using an upside down stool to put the hank on for winding. Then my father made her a thing with arms and it even turned itself - very clever. Gordon remembers standing with his arms out whilst his mother wound the wool. 

Do I do anything sensible like this . . . no! I just set it out and wind. That has worked, more or less, until today. Today the hanks twisted and before I knew it the half that wasn't wound . . . was in a mess, a tangled mess. I think it took me longer to sort it out than it will to knit the little elf that I'm making. And yes it really is that pink. 

Book group tonight. We will certainly need torches as we walk to the village hall.