Having listened to my very clever Auntie Noo and Bronte The Enabler, I decided to go ahead, bit the bullet and called The Mill.
It was all going swimmingly. A total of £29 including shipping and whatnot still equates to bargain city in the world of Silky Wool.
I called the lovely Sheila who told me it was shade 36 (mmm with all the cinnamony goodness) and I said “SOLD, good woman. And may all your family reap bounties and happiness on this auspicious day!”.
My card details were taken and it all went ass shaped. The good old Visa Electron can’t be used over the phone. Sob. Gnash. Wail. I went to get my credit card details and find that I haven’t brought it to work. Probably to stop myself buying huge cones of wool I don’t really need.
Humph. I’m angrily eating TWO squares of Green and Blacks. That’ll learn em.
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