A whole lot of unpleasant crap is going down these days, and it's mostly stuff I can't actually do anything about. Which, of course, drives me mostly up a tree, or out of my tree, depending on which expression you prefer.
So I've been doing some wool-related fiber therapy, and in case anyone wants to see my other obsessive hobby (aside from writing), here's your chance. Under the cut, you'll meet Sinclair, my sexy as all sex Ashford Traveller wheel, some Blue-Faced Leicester Wool, some of my surrounding clutter, and my utter inability to take a decent picture at any time of day.
( Mmm, wool. )
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