A woolly interlude.

I love knitting. It is impossible to eat, drink, smoke and/or engage in excessive interpretive dance whilst knitting. What I do not love however are boring knitting patterns. I refuse to wear hand knitted cardigans, for I am not that cool yet and I know my limits. So I make up my own patterns.

The wool I used to create the mountains below was bought in Iceland, which is an amazing, beautiful and breath-taking land full of friendly people, many in woolly jumpers.  My mountains now reside on a shelf in the bedroom where I can see them and remember driving on the wrong side of the road, walking across a glacier and getting drenched by the original Geyser.


Woolly mountains.


The real thing.

2 thoughts on “A woolly interlude.

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