a furtive knock on my door
suppertime, dark
then quiet
i stand slowly, go to the door,
turn on the light...nothing
or so i thought.
i opened the door to a strange box
a truck delivery. with a thought for the driver
who braved the ice
inside: roving from a friend
spinner's delight!
a tweedy mix and pure white finn-gorgeous.
(and a directive)
thanks, carol dear!
Such stuff are dreams made of.
ReplyDeleteindeed, faisal. it will be hand (and brain) therapy!
ReplyDeleteand my first thought was
ReplyDeletef
e
l
t
oh i DO like that tag...
yes, and yes, india!
ReplyDeletelovely, nothing more satisfying than sitting by the fire on a frosty winter night - spinning. there is more than one way to trick the blogger gremlins - it just takes longer!
ReplyDeleteFELT - my first thought, too.
ReplyDeletejean, we think alike!
ReplyDeletevalerie, maybe...
What a lovely surprise! Finn wool is wonderful, and the tweedy mix sounds divine. Enjoy it in whatever form it takes, although I'm voting for spinning by a warm fire.
ReplyDeleteoh, marilla, you know, perhaps from our talks, how much i love to spin...how lovely the conversation between hands, wool and the wheel can be.
ReplyDeleteahhh ...the memory of that little tune,
ReplyDeletea rovin a rovin a rovin bin my ru-i-an ....
i think from primary school,
when music class meant singing folk songs and the like !
c'mon girl, bring back the original meaning to the word. in you we trust :)
ReplyDeleteroz, i remember the folk song! oh, yes, we sang with glee from odd printed songbooks.
ReplyDeleteneki, !!!
and showing I'm no textile arteest - my first thought was .... 'ooo look a cloud in a box'...
ReplyDeleteronnie, tis a cloud...spinning clouds into cloth, i like that!
ReplyDelete