In the beginning was the sheep…

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In the beginning was the sheep…

How far back to go? To fleeces washed and combed, dyes of blackberry and onion skin? Or further still, to grass and rain and starlight, the endless chewing of the cud?

Come now, past carding, twisting and beyond to the clacking of the needles – eyes bright behind perched spectacles –  those numerous episodes of Midsomer Murders.

Oh joy in the unwrapping! Behold the snugness of the fit. Glory in the crowning splendour of the pom-pom!  ‘Thanks Grandma!’  Then, miracle of miracles – the first soft flakes of snow.

Praise Christmas knitters everywhere and peace to woolly hat wearers near and far.

Miranda Lewis 2017

Welcome to Friday Fiction hosted by the talented writer Rochelle. Thanks also to Bjorn Rudberg for the great photo. Thanks to all who visit and most especially to those who stay to comment. Hats off to Friday Fictioneers gathered here. Please visit and comment widely!

24 thoughts on “In the beginning was the sheep…

  1. Aah Midsomer Murders. We’ve seen each and every episode of the show ever aired, desperately waiting for the next season to start in early January. There’s something so warm and cosy about the gruesome murders in idyllic settings 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

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