So; just when she'd got her hall empty of books, and was able to walk through it without bashing her ankles against piles of novels and horrible celeb biographies and cursing them in terrible language, now Susie's hall is stuffed with books again. At least this time she didn't have to carry them all up there, but she will have to carry lots of them out again, wrapped up as parcels and in carrier bags. I told her she ought to get one of those old-lady trolleys, like big tartan bags on wheels, to save her arms and shoulders from being wrenched, and she gave me an extremely withering look. Maybe if she found a stylish black one, like the kind the postmen use in Australia and America.
Anyway. Here's a picture of something totally unrelated, just because it might cheer me (and Susie) up. Yes, of course, it's the kind of thing that people will probably say is racist and terrible and bad juju, and should be destroyed or given to a museum, but you know what? I like it. It's a pincushion made from felt, and it's from about the 1940s, apparently. A historical and domestic artifact, Susie says. (It's hers, of course).
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