A complete stranger contacted me for some advice.
She had discovered that I owned a Pipy spinning wheel. She's a professional spinner who wanted to know whether I was happy with mine, and if she should buy one.
My answer was a resounding
When Rumpelstiltskin spun that room of straw into gold in one night flat, you can bet your firstborn child that he was on a wheel handcrafted by Philip Poore. We're talking freakishly magical here, guys.
Anyway, she bought it, agreed with me, and sent me a present. Woohoo!
Actually, she sent me two, but Quarantine took a shine to the lavender bag, replacing it with a friendly little note, hoping we were all well, and thanking Auntie for the rabbits, and then something about Villawood Detention Centre, and potential terrorist threat, that I had trouble understanding.
Never mind. It's the thought that counts.