
I couldn't resist but share a picture of everyone's favourite main man. Horatio Caine. Big ups to the writers of CSI for giving him such a crazy name. Wow David Caruso - you've never been cooler or kookier. High fives all 'round. BTW - he's got copies of everyone's DNA and swiped your keyboard for epithelials in case you get up to something a little naughty (perhaps now that I've dabbled in a little CSI street-speak you see how far my fascination goes?).
Enough frivolity! That's not the pottymouthmama spirit, is it? No. Back to work. Heads down and all that, a rose by any other name?

It's looking sweet without being sappy, right? Help a stitcher out. Someone asked if it's french knots, but no, it's my favourite stitch of all time - backstitch (I never thought I'd be saying 'my favourite stitch of all time'). Even the underside is looking neat - and that is no mean feat. Most of the time the underside of my stitching is messy as though a bunch of mice have been pulling at it and making a nest out of my lovely floss.

On another stitching front - sewing week class number seven - finished the pyjama top, finished another pair of pyjama bottoms for one of my nephews, and didn't even stitch an inch on my top. Bah humbug!
