I used to hate bunting. Bunting used to make me feel nauseus. If I was in a car and we drove under it my skin would crawl.
Bunting reminds me of rainy Sundays where as kids we were forced to have fun at cheap hired hall parties with dry sponge cakes, dirty jelly, crust removed plain sandwiches, games that kids cried through because like me they didn't want to be there, red faced drunk weekend dads and of course bunting.
Something clicked recently and I made some bunting. Then I made some more. And some more. I have just cut my one hundredth piece of fabric bunting. I have (South American accent) excorcised the demons!
The next step is to the okey kokey.
The pic is taken from The Knitting and Stitching Show at Alexandra Palace this year. It's the equivalent of a Dungeons and Dragons convention for nerdy knitters like me.