Really, how important are our clothes? What do they say about us? What are they saying to others? Could changing our clothes really change our lives??
If you didn’t see this on Hila’s blog , grab a cuppa, take a break and watch it now.
My wooly news from last week was finishing my green acrylic hat & scarf set. Yeah! And just about completing the 8th of my blankey rectangles. Many more to go. Also continuing to slow knit my autumnal scarf. (All my knitting is slow.)
The teal shorts continue to sit, whilst I decide what to do with a nice bit of leftover rayon…
just another saturday
Having survived a side swipe from the latest hurricane, it was going to be regular Saturday laundry & maybe cooking a meat loaf. Plus doing a bit of sewing whilst listening to “Good Neighbors,” a 1970’s BBC series.
But about that meat loaf. Remember the meat loaf??
About half way through the bake I went out to check it. As I put my hand on the stove top it almost raised a blister. Uh-oh. Something was wrong.
Seems the thermostat had baked it’s last bake and was registering its’ displeasure by refusing to turn off. Grr… Not an option.
Maintenance came to the rescue, and the dead thermostat was replaced once everything had cooled off.
But the meat loaf, once I got it out of the cooker, appeared to be more than done, registering well above the appropriate internal temp.
So while I didn’t get any sewing done, the meat loaf is edible. 😳
a life without books is…
Death in the Tunnel. Despite the fact of the train’s not “com(ing) to a screeching halt” in the middle of the 2½ mile tunnel, I found Miles Burton’s book both challenging and boring; however, the layers of detail kept me interested.
Sergeant Cluff Stands Firm, and taciturn, as reflected by the author’s prose style. I don’t know if I like this one or not. It’s currently feeling ominous. Maybe that’s intentional, and I’ve decided its’ not best to read it before bedtime!
Rather than leaving you with the image of burnt beef and an iffy thriller, here’s something many of us will find interesting. And it explains my hand in the middle of the teal fabric…