The Lumpy Sweater

 Analyzing dreams isn’t something that I tend to do, especially since my dreams tend to be odd ones. I can sort some of them into categories and track them down to their source, but some are just plain weird. For instance, last night.

Dreamself: Look, a huge and threatening approaching storm. Must be because of all that rain on Sunday and the nasty weather on Monday. Oooh, look, the clouds are dissolving into rainbows! I love dreams.

 Hey…now I’m Queen Elizabeth the first, and I am her teenage self. And…I’m living with my aunt? And what the heck am I baking? Muffins or rolls or what?

Dream Aunt: Hey, you messed up one of the muffins/rolls/pastries.

Dreamself: Yeah, stupid, and the rest are freaking fabulous. Take that!

I proceeded to smash and mangle those beautiful shiny rolls, much to the dismay of my Aunt who apparently sells baked goods, grabbed a few for myself, and took off through the back door. Once outside and away, I slowed down and ate the rolls, which were delicious and full of jam.

 I hate jam and jelly-filled things in real life. Why would I be devouring them in my dreams?

 On a slightly more interesting note, I have had way more luck than I deserve–I found another copy of Poems of Color, although it is slightly more worn than the first one. It’s a bit bent, like it got stored incorrectly or something, with some dings on the page edges. Since I don’t really need two copies, I’d be willing to swap a copy for yarn, maybe this stuff. Or anything, really. If you’re interested and think you have something that I might like, you can get in touch through a comment, through my profile at Ravelry or through my email, genuine_lye AT yahoo DOT com.