I’ve been out of my workroom for nearly a week whilst I helped or hindered (depending on your point of view) with the interior painting and subsequent cleanup of a coffee lounge, and now that I’m looking at the photos of this container which I made last weekend, I don’t know why I thought that grouping six triangles together would result in a three-sided base. I was so determined to get such a shape for the base that the last triangle had to morph into a curvy kind of parallelogram. One part of my brain had been telling me all along that I’d gotten my maths wrong but I ignored the shouty messages and that is why my latest pot base is not a fabulous zig-zaggy triangle, unveiled and waiting to have plaudits showered upon it and me but this poor pathetic excuse in whose company the word triangle has no right to even be hinted at. Four would have been a good magic number of small triangles. Or even just one. Lesson learned and I’ll have a little chuckle each time I look at this one. Once it’s filled with things, the base isn’t seen although the eyes are then drawn to the wonky hand-winding of the double woollen strands. Hmmm.