You know those days where nothing goes right and as the day goes on, everything just accumulates until it’s just a whole heap of rubbishness and you wish you’d just decided to stay in bed instead?
Rose was grumpy. I was grumpy. Nothing exciting was planned for the day except a date with the washing machine and a pile of dirty plates to wash up. Rose got grumpier and refused to have a nap and I gradually ate my way through all the chocolate biscuits in the house. And then possibly went to the shop to buy more…
I decided to cheer myself up by winding up some yarn. In this case, some lovely handspun laceweight yarn that was a present from Kai.
So, grumpy baby, grumpy parent, laceweight yarn… what could possibly go wrong?! While glossing over the finer points of what happened, I ended up with a pile of tangled yarn and a broken swift. 
When Mr B came home, I bemoaned the now lack of swiftness due, possibly in part, to me (but only slightly). Much as I’d love a stylish wooden swift that doubles as a table decoration, they’re not cheap and I foresaw a lot of small people being coerced into skein holding duties.
Until the next morning when I found this sitting by my bed:
My lovely husband had got up at 5am and, before he drove off into the dawn to another day of doing whatever he does, had glued together my poor, broken swift. It now turns with a slight wobble which I think gives it character. But more importantly, I can wind yarn again. Although never again when I am in anything less than the happiest of moods. 
