A few more stupidities.

Where's the stash? The big box full of yarn, the well known background of my pics and surrounding vessels full of yarn? Has it all shrunk in the cake box (thinking of it, I should check Tesco for discounted pannetone, I love it.... there was one in the box, you know).
If you're now mailing me to share the magic formula how to hide yarn from inquisitive eyes... well, it's not magic. The box is behind the armchair, some cushions are resting on it. What couldn't be squeezed in the box was either placed to the guest room in its paper bags or in the cupboard in the hallway nested in the cartons and bags which used to be erupting here, making this place full of wool fumes.
Why all this fuss? Dad came (for like five minutes) and I wanted to avoid comments. And wanted, mainly, to avoid comments back at home, he might have mentioned it to Mom (one is never sure about guys' perception of things they're not interested in) and Mom would have comments. I plan to make her a coat. Or a very bulky sweater. I have to get rid of that wool (and dye it... sigh).
Next entry is going to be about lasagna, wine, dance, art and something like that. No yarn.
I'm off to the kitchen.