Tuesday, September 04, 2007

Warm my hands, where's my key and fibres.

1. A cup of tea makes the chilly morning wait for my lift more bearable.

2. Housemates who notice when I forget my key and make sensible arrangements.

3.A thread card loaded with DMC stranded cotton, ready for me to start a new cross stitch.
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Over the field, the path divides and perished.

1. After the bridge, the hard path cuts across the middle of a grass field spangled with buttercups. 2. The hard path continues left; or the...