If someone didn’t know what was going on, and overheard the teacher in the class area of Vancouver’s Birkeland Brothers yesterday, some eyebrows might have been raised. "Poke the butt, poke the butt, poke the butt" she called out, reminding me of the nurse midwife of my past, fervently shouting out her orders "push, push, push, push, push." Just what was going on back there?
It was a needle felting class, of course. First we made a felted fried egg. Never know when that might come in handy.
Then came the mouse, the one whose butt received repetitive pokes. I think he’s cute, cute, cute considering we didn’t have a model from which to work. Kind hearted Pearl, the instructor, gave in on the previous afternoon, selling it to a woman who claimed her toothless chihuahua couldn’t live without it.
Really, I have no need for felted eggs or mice, but I might find the need for a felted Scottie dog or two. It’s from the book Fleece Dog, the one both Sandy and I bought during our visit to Patternworks last summer.
Life's a Stitch 
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