H is for Haystack

I really ought to have known so much better than this shouldn’t I? They don’t make up sayings for nothing now do they? Or maybe they do. Whoever they are, they probably don’t have all that much to occupy themselves if they’ve got all this free time to invent random sayings for bored writers to muse over. Anyway, perhaps I should put it this way, when I decided to get my sewing out (as I so very often do) in order to darn some sadly mournful socks to bring an element of rejuvenation into their pathetic little lives I probably should have attempted it anywhere other than that farm I just so happened to be passing.

I don’t know what got into me. All I can say is that I was suddenly seized by a sudden whim of an impulse to perch atop a haystack and watch the world go by as I applied myself so diligently to my needle and thread based task. You can tell where this is going can’t you? Looking back, with hindsight and all the smugness that accompanies it, it was entirely inevitable what happened next. I’m hardly the most graceful of individuals and with a delicate and not at all butterfingery (totally a word) fumble after an entirely accidental stab of the needle into my thumb, said object slipped from my hand.

And now I’m left with just the one option. I have to burrow my way through this mountainous stack of hay in order to locate my needle so that I can ensure that my socks (which are cheap and nasty so probably ought to be thrown away) are no longer holey. Yes, alright, I did bring more than just the one with me and there is for some reason a terribly conveniently located haberdashers just a few metres away but that one was my favourite. I want it back. So would you mind bringing me a cup of tea and a blanket? I get the feeling that I might be here a while.

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