in a Wodehouse-quoting mood

I was going to write a strikingly witty entry about spending the evening quilting, but I think the most important thing that I have learned is that when handling soft cotton wadding in conjunction with a quilt top that is largely composed of black cotton, do not be surprised if the black cotton develops a dusting of fluff.

I will brush it off at some point. But there isn't much point in doing so till I've got the binding sewn up and prevented future fluff distribution.

Learning experience, learning experience.

Off to visit parents in a couple of days. A whole week off work. This will be very good.

---

Contenting myself, accordingly, with a gesture of loving sympathy, I left the room. Whether she did or did not throw a handsomely bound volume of the Works of Alfred, Lord Tennyson, at me, I am not in a position to say. I had seen it lying on the table beside her, and as I closed the door I remember receiving the impression that some blunt instrument had crashed against the woodwork, but I was feeling too preoccupied to note and observe.

-- Right Ho, Jeeves, Wodehouse