...is that it's neither here not there. It's past the insistence of Monday which drives people back to work, and it's still too far away from the weekend for them to heave a sigh of relief. Which means it's in a kind of never land, which suits me fine, as I have a penchant for imaginary things, even in dreams.
Just before I woke up, Dreamland had me primping, as I tried to get ready to sing in concert in the Dreamtown hall. Not difficult to see how my Barbershopping days floated to the surface here.
But then pure fantasy took over. 'I'd like to buy you a present' said a friend, as they steered me into a gift shop.'Choose anything you like'.
'Do you have any ornate, brass trays?' I found myself asking an assistant.
My morning self thinks 'Why on earth would I want one of those, having been happy to give away the beautifully inscribed one of Indian origin which had belonged to my parents?'
I can see shelves and cabinets full of curios all about me, in this bijou shop with the air of a museum, but no trays. Thank goodness. Then, high up on one stand, a hand materializes, and passes me a brass object which I can only describe as a flattened, Russian-doll-aping chalice, filigree and emblazoned with a cross, within whose elliptical innards nestled many miniature versions of itself.
I think Easter and Lolamouse's challenge had overtaken my subconscious for the night! LOL. Pity me.
But on the subject of filigree, I think my latest crochet bedspread oeuvre is a contender...