I have written before about my recurring dream in which I find myself amidst a treasure trove of beautiful textiles, and told I can take whatever I want. When I go to leave my armload of fantastic stuff turns to dust, or is misplaced, or taken by someone else. There is a feeling of loss.
Well, last night I had the complete opposite of that dream. I was taken to visit some distant relative who gave me a bag of her unused knitting and sewing things. When I opened the bag I found a lot of junk - tail ends of balls of crochet cotton, nasty acrylic yarn, yellowing plastic baggies filled with polyester. And at the bottom of the bag was a bill for $100 - it wasn't a gift at all! I was angry and grabbed a handful of shiny purple polyester fibre and held it into the air and yelled: "Polyester equals Death!" I was asked to leave, which I did quite happily.
Where is Dr. Freud when you need him?