It’s been a long time, I know, but it’s been a busy old year and although the crafting has continued, the blogging has gone sadly astray. We have been having our flat done up, and it’s been a much bigger upheaval than we expected (thanks, lady project manager!!!! We *loved* being homeless). Because of that, my wool has been put into storage and I only have one size 6 crochet hook that somehow missed being boxed away. I haven’t managed to fulfil my usual ambition of making everyone a present for Christmas, but I don’t think anyone’s too cut up about it, since my sister’s tea cosy sits unused and unloved in her spare bedroom, Al’s grandma has hidden the cosy I made her in her kitchen drawer and uses a different one, and I’ve never seen any evidence of the little bag I made my niece being put to use (in fact, I’ve never seen it since that fateful day it was unwrapped with much false glee.) As for Lia and her various gifts. Well, the least said about those the better.

Screw them, that’s what I say. If they can’t appreciate the genius of my ugly creations, then I’m just going to keep all that crafty crochet goodness to myself. Ungrateful wretches. Apart from the hat I made my niece (same as my Petrol hat – this is now the third time I’ve made this hat since I lost my first one), the two hats I’ve made for my new baby niece-in-law (which I will get round to posting about some day… when I’ve found the pictures), and the skull and cross bone placemat I made for my skull-loving friend (post about this one coming imminently). Apart from all those gifts, I’m not making gifts any more… OK, that’s probably a lie – making things for other people is more fun. Even if they do just quietly secrete them into a bottom drawer for the moths to enjoy. The buggers.