It started innocently enough. A little puff of fibre on my desk, which I rolled between my fingers into a ball.
A thought, a splash of water, more rolling, tiny felt pebble. Hmm.
Before I could stop myself, I’d grabbed a bowl of warm soapy water, some roving from the stash and I was making felted beads (some more successfully than others).
I was originally going to just make a bracelet’s worth, but I couldn’t stop at just those and kept going for a while longer.
Which is when I realised that my palms were feeling distinctly bruised and painful.
They’re still a bit tender and even a bit swollen today.
Note to self: enthusiasm is great, but tone it down when felting.