As my little crochet hook twirled and looped this morning in my fabulous class at Lena's, I was a bit ashamed of the state of my hands.
Freezing rain and biting winds have conspired with frequent handwashing in the most limescale-ridden water known to man to make them look and feel like those of a Victorian washerwoman. Or perhaps those of St Martha looked similar too?
In any case, I have promised my lámha a dollop of handcream whenever they get wet from now on.
Thank you Lee for minding the bookles. x