Im just a little bit in love with wool.
Always have been, always will be.
The colour saturation it holds once dyed is nothing short of sublime to my eyes, but even bright colours always seem to remain soft somehow. The pure texture of the weave and the cross threading where different shades make another brings a certain fascination of forethought.
But can someone please explain why I have fifty blankets in the stash?
I know supplies were low last year just as I was getting into production and things slowed down to real slow when I thought that I was going to run out completely, but fifty is a bit many.
Its hard to find where store them too. They are taking over the house. This stack above is on the chair in the dining room without a home to go to.
I guess its lucky I love wool so much.
How about you? Is your fabric stash taking over your house?