All last week I was frantically sewing in order to finish two new dresses and four new hats for the Katherine Mansfield Garden Party (because sometimes  I’m just no good at all at being sensible and restrained!). Felicity, lovely helpful sewing cat that she is, seemed to sense the haste, and did her best to lend a paw.  She generally likes to hang out with me while I sew, but I’ve never seen her put such a concerted effort into being there for the entire process. Her main concern seemed to be that the fabric would run away and hide if she didn’t sit on at all times, so she spent most of the week curled up on whatever I was working on, firmly holding it in place.  Very helpful that! First she sat on the linen: Then she sat on the lace: Then on the  rayon slip fabric: And then on the other linen: Before returning to the partly sewn white linen, to make sure it didn’t attempt a mid-construction escape. Even with the …

It’s called ‘how to disappear and throw your people into an absolute panic.’ And she’s REALLY good at it. It started last week Friday.  I headed off to teach my evening class, and had just finished setting up and was just about to welcome my students when my phone started getting text messages.  Mr D & I have a rule that he is only to call me when I’m teaching if it’s an emergency. So I ignored the texts, assuming that he was just asking me to pick up bread on the way home, or something else. But the texts kept coming, every few minutes.  And I started to get worried.  Finally I stole a moment to check my phone while all the students were on their machines, happily sewing away. The first text message said “Did you see Felicity today?  Can’t find her anywhere” The next one: “Are you sure you didn’t lock her outside?  She is NOT in the house” Then: “Not coming when I call” “Really starting to panic” “When did you …