This weather is crazy.
My sister sent a photo from the east coast showing snow higher than the parking meters, and here's it's sunshine, blooming trees, and hay fever. It's unsettling.
Twinkle continues her couch frolicking. Which includes attacking anything left on it.
She pulled out every last thread from the bag, wrestled them, and wondered what my problem was?
While the sun was at its brightest, I began another little ship. I've made a few now, but I can never remember how I do it. It's as if the wheel's being reinvented every time. Tired aging itchy eyes and brain . . .
Going in search of a sail . . .
