We have a number of pine cones in our house. Unlike conkers, they don’t tend to rot so they arrive and they stay. I have some on the top shelf of the bookcase and there are four tied up in the daughters’ bedroom: we gave them paper wings, eyes and beaks and wire legs. They float haphazardly around a hot air balloon that the eldest drew, all attached to a couple of crossed sticks to make a mobile that Blue Peter would be proud of. I think I may have missed my vocation in life; but, alas, Blue Peter presenters these days have to be 22, thin and model-like and I rather think that I no longer (if I ever did!) fulfil the criteria. Well, all this blah just to introduce a not very good drawing of a pine cone. Watch out though – I may do it again tomorrow, and perhaps the day after!

Pencil on paper


2 responses to “Seventy-seven

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