It's not an omen

Learning to make string has been on my list for ages, mostly as a thing I could do with found materials in odd moments, and as a way of creating mementos while travelling.

I watched a few youtube videos this afternoon, where it seems mostly to be presented as a survival skill, and set to with a pile of ends snipped off abrinsky's blanket. I can never bear to throw away all those little pieces of yarn, and now my insane hoarding thrift is justified. On the other hand, I probably won't be making nettle rope any time soon, or stripping and macerating willow bark.



abrinsky is not well, but it's just a head cold, not full-blown man flu. That's good because he's doing outreach for work tomorrow, lecturing a former colleague's university students in the afternoon. I know she's looking forward to it, and it would be a shame if he had to cancel. He did manage a walk with me this morning.



This morning I read a freebie novella, Christmas at the Wellands by Liz Jacobs, and found it quite charming. It's just as well I enjoyed it, since I was recently persuaded to purchase a novel by the same author *narrows eyes at soupytwist*