…Sitting for over an hour trying to find the end of a yarn bobbin that my dog chowed down on.

It was one of Candy’s last mischievous tricks before she died last year, so I’m trying to figure out what to do with a stack of diddy lengths of brown shetland singles, while I patiently pull back the strands.  A normal person would have taken scissors to it, but I’m such a miser I want to get useable yarn off this bobbin.  Well, at least cut short lengths and use them somewhere.  I can’t throw out any of Candy’s “things” even if they were mine once, which doesn’t help.  Lily has tried helping too, by grabbing the bobbin and looking at me with that “ooh new toy!” expression.   Bless.

I’m also now collecting new fibre for spinning, courtesy of my fuzzy golden retriever, Hamish.  Having just moved down to London he’s adjusting to the warmer climate…all over the furniture, the floor and my work clothes.  Bless!  I now have a bag of Lily hair from ickle dog, and a bag of Hamish hair from big dog.  And Lily needs a hair cut too.  You know you’re a spinning nut when you want to wait till the dog’s hair is spinnable before she gets a trim…