It's true, things on Spanish Wine haven't progressed much this week, as I only managed to finish the left-hand border and get halfway across the bottom. My excuse for my low stitching output this week has been my seeming inability to get home anything like on time once all week. This has been variously due to lightning strikes on train signal boxes, clients calling 5 minutes before you are set to leave and then waffling on for 10 minutes when 2 minutes would do, and 6-minute gaps in service on the Bakerloo Line (trust me, 6 minutes is just far too long to have to wait). So last night I tempted H out to Reading for a nice dinner in our favourite Italian as a reward to me for being such a stoic commuter, and I didn't have a lot of time to stitch after we got home, very full of gorgeous food.
Such is the commuting life I suppose, there are good weeks and bad weeks. Actually, there are only bad weeks, as I'm discovering that my tolerance for commuting seems to be about 3 and a half years, because now I'm fed up with it, and want to stop. Where is that lottery ticket again?!