I went out yesterday, and when I got back there was a big box sitting on the floor. I approached it with caution and a pocket knife, trying not to squeal in anticipation.
Is it a (wooden) bird?
Is it a (strange sort of) plane?
Is it an excellent way of putting off doing my tax return?
When I started spinning about three years ago, a friend and I bought a second-hand Ashford drum carder from a nearby farmer’s wife, and coincidentally the purveyor of fine BFL-cross fleeces to the discriminating local spinner. It had been used, well used. But it worked and was great. But then I was unfaithful. I used a Classic Carder belonging to a friend.
I was led away from the path of abstemious righteousness and was tempted by sleek lines, good looks, and downright efficiency. (It’s a pattern – or that should be was a pattern – though a) not always applied to drum carders, in fact never before, generally to men; and b) the efficiency thing has tended to be somewhat optional when applied to blokes.)
You should always give in to temptation:
And that reminds me, I’m supposed to be doing my tax return. Yeah right…