My brother’s mother ( yeah, not my mother, he has two – greedy eh?) made him the coolest floor cushions for Christmas out of blankets. After a quick once-over and a few mental calculations, I realised how straightforward they were. So I cut up Henry’s favourite blue blanket and made him two. They fit perfectly into the corner where the Christmas tree was, now officially his reading corner. When the house goes suspiciously quiet, he can be found there with his nose stuck in some Enid Blyton or other.
The red blanket I found yesterday was originally for two more, slightly larger cushions for taller members of the family. But it’s job description has changed dramatically overnight. I blame the bark cloth.