Come to me my precious..


Delivered to my bed by my very own trusty postman at just after seven this morning.

You can imagine my disappointment on Saturday to discover that Royal Mail had tried to deliver, but the long haired, cheesy footed teenage son that currently resides in bedroom no.2 did not hear the door knock or the four hounds that we own which would have been barking loud enough to wake the dead, to alert him that someone wished to gain the householders attention.

After sighing wistfully as I knit my last ball of Noro last night, hubby dashed to the post office in glacial conditions very early this morning just so my dreams could come true.

Thank you darling.

4 thoughts on “Come to me my precious..

  1. mandycharlie says:

    I suspect it will be the larger of the two, I also suspect that the way the Noro virus mutates there will be many more of these blankets made over the years.I just have to decide whether I want it for my bed, or my sofa..

    Like

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