Compulsive toy knitting

There is such a buzz from seeing a made thing appreciated by a child. Just a tiny little cat, knitted during eastenders, and left next to my bed for Abi to find in the morning, to joyous shrieks of 'at! 'at! 'at!'




The pleasure gained by both of us is out of all proportion to the effort involved. It doesn't even have a face, yet it has participated in many games today. Most requiring it to say hello a lot. And being stroked, and stroking abi's hair.

So instead of finishing that jumper, which really shouldn't take long, I find myself knitting a little lady to help look after the cat.



I wonder what she'll look like when she has a face and hair and arms. You can never tell.

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