Playtime for Grit

Isn't footling brilliant?

I'm free wheeling, free from imperatives of timetables, workshops, lessons, life stuff, I'm left alone, in solitude, to twiddle with bead and paper, string and cloth, ribbon and pins. I enjoy the snap of scissors on leather and follow the whimsy of thinking. Out of these gold dust moments grows who knows what? A new direction, a new idea, a result I never planned.

So what if I look like a hobo, haven't showered since last week, am up my eyeballs in a trashed house, and the kids are doing who knows what. Worth it, for a load more new books, and a new direction for February. Already I'm looking forward to that craft stall for Victorian Goth.