This weekend has been utterly crappy; not even macaroni and cheese makes it any different. Nor do pickles. This means that serious measures are called for, i.e. dye therapy. One of my friends came over today to help me with it, and by the time she left, both of us were covered with various shades of blue, yellow, purple, and red. Most of it comes out in the wash, though, and the end results were nice. It's Barb's opinion that two of the three batches we did look like multicolored sprinkles in vanilla ice cream, especially when the colors begin to run. The third looks like lemon curd smeared with blackberry jam. The yellow/purple one is on the Morrit sheep's wool I got at MDSWF this year; the other two are done with the Brown Sheep Yarn Co. roving I got from the Sheep Shed Studio. The darker red/black on white reminds me a little bit of some type of jasper. These guys will look interesting when they're spun, I think.
While she was here, someone called her cell phone and asked to speak to George. Apparently this has been happening for the past couple of weeks, and she's gotten something like fifteen or twenty of these phone calls for this George, whoever he is. She answered the phone and said, "You guys have called me fifteen times looking for George. There is NO GEORGE HERE!" Five minutes later, the person called back and she handed her phone to me. I answered it and said, "There is no George at this number. George is a figment of your diseased imagination. He doesn't exist!" The person still hasn't called back yet. Yay, me! Points for rudeness!