Long Suffering Bear, an apology.

You see, Long Suffering Bear isn't even my bear, it belongs to my other half. I call it Long Suffering Bear on account of the droopy frame and world weary expression. I have to prop the fellow up in order to take half decent pictures.

Poor old bear has been dressed up a lot recently and I fear more indignities ahead. I am knitting tiny things for a not yet arrived child and that makes photographing the finished object a little difficult. Even when the arrival actually arrives, web etiquette suggests that it is not the done thing to post pictures of someone else's child on your public access blog. So the bear it is.

There has been sewing too - but nothing finished as I concentrated on the tiny knitting. And three days in Glasgow with three films a day - which was magical, terrifying and sobering all in one big lump. Magnus has been on the case, helping with my knitting and being a general menace. We went out for dinner last night, to friends in the village and the cat followed us. He gatecrashed the party and ate cream from the pudding bowls before falling asleep in a menacing manner just above our hosts' rat's cage.

The observant amongst you might notice that I am wearing pajamas in the not so flattering picture. It was only just after lunchtime and I had sworn to myself that I would finish the little white smock before doing anything else that day. Including getting dressed.