No photo and very little textile news this morning. I'm feeling rather flat.
Yesterday I started a new project at Newlands Community Centre. It's a quilt project with a group of Arabic speaking women. The morning went quickly. It's going to be a challenge, but in a good way. I now know three words of Arabic. I'll sound more excited about it when I have fewer other things to worry about . . .
I came home to the news that my friend R--let's call him my foster son, since that's how we operate--had been admitted to hospital. That's a long hard story and I'm worried about him. I thought about him a fair bit during the night and didn't sleep all that well.
When I woke and went to the kitchen to make myself a coffee this morning, I heard a definite dripping sound--please don't laugh--I traced it to the bathroom,which was awash. I can only think this is the next installment in my DIY drama. I'd hoped that particular saga was over. Apparently not. I'm not going to get myself out of this particular spot of trouble with my usual energy and ingenuity. Instead I'm going for the mature wisdom approach--when DIY goes bad twice in the same project it's time to call a professional. He's booked to come tomorrow. Meanwhile my friend L can give me a bed for the night and I'm going to call the hospital.