Oh yeah. What she said.
I owe the very idea of knitting washcloths to Suse, who gave me one just after Wil was born and which I love. A couple of people have laughed or looked confused when informed I am knitting face washers (as in 'why would you do that?') and even I was thinking it was a bit of a folly after knitting one in a really stiff and scratchy cotton. Then I discovered this yarn.
So thick and soft.
And fair trade.
And undyed but naturally pigmented.
I could eat it.
Or bathe in it... oh that's right, that's why I'm knitting face washers.
I am already anxious that this yarn may go off the market some time in the next few decades...
Meanwhile over here it is just one big birthday factory. Hundreds of gingerbreads baked
and decorated because kids who are allergic to eggs and nuts should still get to have a little homemade party sugar at a party where I am host.
There are presents to be wrapped, including a very sophisticated (and thankfully heavily reduced) designer outfit. I wish it came in my size.
Some cute PJs, also thankfully reduced. I am such the bargain hunter.
And a new doll who has been a long time coming and spent quite a while in the intensive care ward because I wasn't sure if she was going to make it. Her sister, the knitted version, is still on the critical list but may come good before christmas.
There are still chocolate crackles to make and lolly bags to fill, and 60 sausages (hand made to order by Amy's Aikido teacher!) and baby rolls to pick up, a lot of onions to slice and of course a giant cake to bake.
And four antibiotics a day to take (mastitis - don't ask and don't touch the boob) so that I will be upright on Sunday when we host the big event.
Which involves a whole lot of kids riding bikes.
In the rain.
And no doubt howling wind.