The night before last, I dreamt that I was in some sort of vastly important competition, for which I had to organise the catwalk show for Karl Lagerfeld's new collection. Half an hour before it started, someone stole all my staging. My show included an animatronic dinosaur that hatched an egg with a real, live, slippery green baby dinosaur inside. I woke up just after climbing a several-dozen-feet-high part of my hastily rebuilt set, in the process of falling spectacularly to my death.
Then last night I dreamt that while doing stunts for both the Harry Potter and James Bond films, I got accidentally shot and accidentally drowned.
You'll understand then why last night it was rather a relief to dream of nothing more than the lovely Jonathan Pryce, with not a lot going on except a bit of your standard worshipping.
In other news, you'll see from the photo that some of the sock yarn has finally gone feral - here it is nestling happily amongst some of the crap that I hauled out of the garden on the weekend. I was stern, though, and rounded it up mercilessly, for these yarns will be joined together in harmony for the final pair of socks of 2008. They will be knit simultaneously, so that the double striping effect will match, and will bring together the spirits of all the socks I've made during the Year of the Foot, into one uber-pair of socks.