I have little felt paged books full of needles. Some are decorated on the front, some are plain. I have more needles in tins around the house, these are ‘filed’ with works in progress or ready for teaching classes. Machine sewing needles are appropriately stored, and so too are those for the Embellisher. I have knitting needles as well, new ones, fine ones, thick ones and some as large as broomsticks, others are old and inherited from mother, grandmothers and aunt. These are all for various purposes, not many of them intended for conventional knitting.

However, today I was reminded that I don’t actually like needles!

Why?

Bloodtests!

I have spent most of the day having needles prodding my arm. Essential, but not very pleasant.