I might be getting sentimental in my old age, but I just wanted to say what lovely people those who make with their hands often turn out to be. I was out with my Grate Frend Mike in Bath many months ago when I went to the lovely woolshop with its black labrador, Wool. I bought a pattern for a little collar which I thought might enable me to keep up with the young folk without looking stupid, which was made from one hank of silk yarn with pretty gold and silver beads threaded through. Quick and manageable, I thought. But no. It turned out to be a fiendishly difficult pattern, So it was cast aside after about an inch had been knitted.
Then I showed it to my Grate Frend, Lynne, who is a terrific knitter, who understood the abbreviation and showed me how to do the fiendish turned point. Which was fine when she was sitting next to me, but when she went back to York I was stumped again. So, last month, asked her to help me again when we met up again for a meeting. She did better than that. I swopped her the pattern for her making the collar for me. And here it is. A thing of beauty. And a very kind gesture on Lynne’s part.