My hands are nice and soft

My hands won't need any cream today. First of all, the heat isn't on as it's over 70*F here in the DC suburbs. Second, this afternoon I decided to give up on combing the Corriedale wool I'd been fighting with, and carded it instead, giving me 8 ounces of hand carded rolags ready to spin:

This morning we went over to my parents, where we gave Dad his birthday gift:

From top left, going clockwise, it's a 1906 edition of Marx's Capital; a 1928 Plato; a 1934 Dostoevsky, and a silly birthday card.

We had a little party for Gilad's 4th birthday and Grandpa's 65th. The kids got their Chanukah gifts, we ate a little ice cream cake, and came home.