Dumb as a box of hair (as a certain feathered friend of mine likes to say).
Six degrees of stupid.
Idiot, idiot, idiot.
I've managed to spend two days and a bit fluffing around with a pattern that should have been simple but I managed to make it complex and oh so very wrong. Late in the afternoon I realised that I should stop trying to make it 'right' and scrap it and start afresh. Which I did and an hour later I had an almost perfect fitting toile. Is there a moral here? Yep. Sometimes you need to go back to the beginning, two wrongs (or twenty) just don't/won't make a right.
But most of all I feel like a right stupid twat.
I have errands to run in the morning and then I will spend the rest of the day cutting and sewing.
I did manage to get a pile of mohair hot water bottle covers made in between pulling my hair out in frustration. That's a big plus.
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