Finally, at the end of winter, I killed three birds with a draft snake. He's lumpy, so I call him the boa constrictor who just ate a few (three) birds.
1. small amount of blue wool yarn in my stash (a felted dishcloth would not be cool)
2. a very large crack in our old Victorian house windowsill
3. wool felt scraps in A's shop that she was thinking nobody wanted; I thought long and hard about what to do with them: some of the scraps are big enough for applique, but most of them would be perfect as stuffing for pillows and. . . .draft snakes.
I just knit a long rectangle in garter stitch, then stitched it together into a tube and stuffed it with felt scraps. I'm sure there are other names for this thing. What do you call it?
Related: my ancestral jade plant is growing so happily and lustily, I feel like a proud new mama. I also feel a connection to my grandmother, since this is the only plant left; the original jade that my sister had died. So, no pressure, but mine is the only ancestral jade left.
I pinched off some tips and stuck them directly back into the pot soil. They are growing!
Everything feels possible.