Oh, to be able to knit that fast! Very cool and witty animation though.
I know, its a bad pun. It makes sence in my warped mind right now though… 😉
I buy the primaries, Crimson, Lemon and Blue BT. I bought 100g of each, basing the decision on what I know about the Omega dyes, and that 5g of dye is good for 100g of Yarn. Discover that the dyes from Handweavers are rather more concentrated! 2.5g of dye is good for 250g of yarn! Good for Ecomomy, and probably means that I will never run out of dye! Possibly bad for the measuring out for small amounts of yarn though! 🙂
Still, we then spend the afternoon at Ann’s House learning how to use our new toys, making not as much mess as I had expected all told, creating Colour of the highest intensity, and incidentally getting rather high on vinegar fumes. 🙂
Pictures are here, as Ann took them, not me!
Although, in this case, it was more like a really vivid nightmare.
I dreamt that I was at Granddad’s house, with Mum. Although, even in the dream the rational part of me knows that Granddad is dead, there he is. Not the healthy version either, just the frail old Man I last saw. I even check with Mum, asking if she can see him, yes she can, and so its OK.
Very grumpy that things have been moved about a little, and that I’ve sat in his chair watching some Telly (both of which were in very non-logical weird places as well.) He sits by the window, muttering, and I try to figure out why he is so grumpy.
We snap away for a while, as you do in dreams, (I think it felt like a cinema gift shop!), and there is random conversation to whomever I was with (not Mum) about Granddad still being visible.
Then Mum and I are back at Granddad’s again. The house looks slightly more as it should be, but Granddad still isn’t in his chair. He is trying to get comfy in one of the others (which, having sat in it myself, I know defies getting comfy in!), but he doesn’t fit it. He tried lying on the floor, but then gets up and paces in a circle, “I don’t know where I’m going”.
So, I grab him by the shoulders, “You are going here.” and sit him down in his chair, which is now where it should be. He sit/slumps down onto it with his eyes shut (asleep? dead? I don’t know.)
At that point, I snap awake. Realise what I’ve been dreaming about, and start crying. Big style.
Interpretations? Free free to e-mail if they are too complex for Comments… webmail AT purplekitchen.org.uk