Boy says, “Don’t listen to Dad.” Boy likes the beanie. He likes grey so it would ring his bells on that account though he might not necessarily be overwhelmed by the bits of pink. But he says it’s nice and what would Dr B know? OK, I feel a bit less worried about it now.
They are doing eco-weekend stuff, carting away the last of the willow they cut up last weekend. My colleague didn’t want the wood because, according to her research, willow doesn’t burn well, provides little heat and is inclined to spark. She has an enclosed Kent-style heater, so I would have thought the sparking not a huge concern but it didn’t worry me one way or the other. Youngest Aunt and Uncle would have taken it, no worries. But they don’t have enough space left to store it. So off to the mulcher it goes.
I’m making no progress at all with trying to clear the sewing table so I can start on the pyjamas. The minute I clear one spot, something else that doesn’t belong there ends up being dumped there “just temporarily”. I am somewhat overwhelmed by other people’s problems at present and I suspect that’s not helping my general attempts to make progress. I haven’t given up but I admit to feeling more than usually disheartened.