Tonight, I surprised myself by finding the texture of proper wool pleasant. Like, rubbing it on my face, wow, this feels good. I don’t know that I will ever become a full-on wool snob, but it was a pleasant surprise that my flesh decided it could get on with it. That’s exciting, and we’ll see how it goes. At least it means that I am more likely to be happy snuggling up in the hat that I’m making out of it, ha ha.
It’s been a doing fuck-all day, for which I am grateful. I’ve been feeling pretty crap between fatigue and headache, and I’m probably not going to be doing much better tomorrow since I lose an hour of sleep (thanks, British Summer Time ¬¬). Z has made a good start on changing the clocks around the house, though he’s going to wait until tomorrow to do the clock in the girl’s room. His logic is sound — if he changed it before they went to bed, then they’d have him up at half five. Really, fair enough. I cringe that they get him up early on a weekend. I cringe a bit more for tomorrow ’cause I get to do even less all ’cause Mother’s Day, ha ha. I have to put on enough clothing to go around to the in-laws for lunch, but they don’t expect much out of me either. They know and respect my crippledness, and love me for who I am. Plus yanno, free food, ha ha.
I am going to get back to my hat now, ’cause I am happy and it makes me happy and I want to wear it and that requires it being made. *grins*