Commissioned

Commissioned by Nina, knitted and blipped by me, and sent by Royal Mail to arrive at her house tomorrow.

No sooner said than done as it were, but never worked during the daylight hours; knitting falls into the same category as reading in this house and whereas the latter is confined to bedtime, needlework can be done if watching television in the evening.
There is enough wool to knit matching socks which should see me through a fortnight's Corrie and Call the Midwife.

We have another springlike day with just enough hazy sun not to show up my less than perfect housewifely skills on the dust front, or my need -to- be -cleaned windows.

Since I can't read or knit, and I refuse to notice any deficiency on the cleaning front, I will go out and speak to my patio plants in the balmy temperature of today.