A soft light of a new day outside, and I’m well into my second cup of chai. There is a streaky grey sky morning about to break through and all is quiet. With little people still tucked up in their beds, a new day lays before me.
It’s 5.30 am and the day was going to be a busy.
Biscuits to make, boys to take and a check list that needs crossing off one and a half pages long; but my mind is only half on it. I want to make a little bag. A little bag with colours and tassels, a little bag for a little girl.
Colours were chosen, scraps of wool divided out and the bag already finished in my head. But it wasn’t to be. That bag lay dormant for another whole month until finally, there it was, finished. Not exactly as I had imagined it, (but things made by me rarely are.)
She loved it, and I was happy to make her something out of bits I already had.