We have a local free paper delivered to the door each week. Each week its front page is a hotbed of scurrulous calumnies and if I had a budgie I would use this paper to line its cage. Each week, in order to avoid being sued, it prints retractions and apologies for getting its facts wrong, usually on page thirteen, in tiny print, in amongst the notices from the local authority warning of road works. I suppose it really does pay, then, to make sure you've got your facts right before going to print. If only I had learnt that lesson before sending my last blog post out into the wide world. Or at least been liberal with my use of the word 'allegedly'. Here, then, to avoid legal action of the severest kind, is my own retraction:
* please scroll down several inches beyond the interesting stuff.
Warm sunshine from azure blue skies for the last couple of days has made me feel that Spring is about to be Sprung and I've been thinking about the veggies to plant this year. It's sometimes a bit dispiriting because I can't keep the Muntjack deer out of the garden and they do love to graze the tops off anything green and juicy. And my courgettes are generally pre-nibbled before they reach the kitchen. Heaven knows how anything will survive attentions from the hens. However, they'll not be remotely interested in this little, little, erm, what should it be called ..... embroidered picture?
I have been impatiently waiting for a gorgeous little rubber stamp which I ordered from norajane on Etsy. I'm afraid that it has a rather large carbon footprint, as it had to fly across the Atlantic. Am I a bad person? I have been searching in UK for ages to try and find just what I wanted - I was quite sure the brilliant Blade Rubber would be able to supply something, but sadly not this time. I even tried to carve my own stamp from an old eraser, but, oh dear, the mess! But when I saw this little nesting bird I HAD TO HAVE IT! So expect everything I make from now on to have a birdie tag attached to it.
* Retraction: I would like to make it clear that my Dad is not a hoarder. I apologise unreservedly for this outrageous slur on the character of a man who has never knowingly hung on to anything that would not someday come in handy.
Allegedly.






