So, before I start boring you all with tales about the mud in my garden, I thought I’d share a link to a short story by my friend Jenni Clapham.

It doesn’t sound like a big deal because everyone knows that I write these days, but back when I was 10, the scribblings in my notebooks felt like some kind of dirty secret and Jenni was possibly the first person I shared them with. We’ve penned a lot together over the years, so I’m super-proud whenever she gets anything published. Also slightly jealous because she’s far more dedicated and better at not procrastinating than I am.

Speaking of which, I will return when I’ve planted my bulbs and cleaned off my sewing machine… Today I am actually procrastinating from knitting. Just goes to show that all I need to do to lose interest in something is to set myself a realistic target. It’s just like being back at uni…

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The sewing machine motor works! Granted, it works a little too well and turns itself on to top speed when I leave the room, allowing me to return from the kettle to the smell of old, hot rubber. Which is brilliant! Just shows how quiet the mechanics are when compared to my original Jones and the devil Brother machine. I still need to find a way to engage the needle, but I’m sure this is nothing that a can of WD40 can’t solve.

It’s funny – I hated the Brother because it had a tempestuous mind of its own, yet here is a machine that is clearly possessed and I couldn’t be prouder to call myself its owner. Just look at the awesome retro detailing:

 

The groovy, flowery case.

The machine and various accoutrements.

Sign of the times...

The needle which won't engage.

Shiny chrome detailing.

 

The garden will have to wait until Monday afternoon to be photographed and assessed. I just got another pile of wool delivered so will be racing through the sweater so that I can start on the second lacy scarf I plan to make… watch this space.

 

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