I haven't been around much lately.
I've been enjoying, sometimes cold, winter nights by the fire,
a cup of tea, my companion,
a book or two by my side
and a strong desire to put my hands to use.
I've discovered a new array of knitting books at the library
and am resting my crochet hook while I return to the needles for awhile.
My project is almost complete but the wonderful thing about knitting or any craft,
is that there are always a dozen or so more projects waiting to take its place.
The same could be said for books. The title of the book above may suggest I want to
write one myself but I have enough hobbies to contend with. I simply want to learn to
read more consciously, more fully and although I've just begun reading this guide,
I instantly knew, as I read "words are the raw material out of which literature is crafted",
that I will enjoy this new journey to the very last word.
Oh, yes, the project!
A sweet doorstop, much needed in an old farmhouse with crooked floors that
beg a bedroom door to close and by doing so - blocks the heat trying to rise up
from the wood stove at the bottom of the stairs.
We can't have that now, can we?
Oh, yes, the project!
A sweet doorstop, much needed in an old farmhouse with crooked floors that
beg a bedroom door to close and by doing so - blocks the heat trying to rise up
from the wood stove at the bottom of the stairs.
We can't have that now, can we?
~Read well friends~
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