The drugs really are great… for giving me weird arse dreams that is. When I went to sleep last night, it was gently raining and had been for several hours before I turned in. It was still raining as I was waking up this morning and in that semi-conscious state I had another strange dream.
In my dream I was waking up, but not in my bed… I was in one of the back rooms of my house that is now Mr K’s study/den but used to be our spare bedroom with my big medieval camp bed set up in there. So I was waking up in the medieval bed and cuddling beside me in the bed was Humbibble’s little brother who I don’t really know that well (Humbibble was over last night and talking about his recent 21st birthday – so lets hope that accounts for his bizarro presence in my dream). I’ve never been really comfortable in this room of my house, in my head it’s always been tagged as the bedroom for Angel’s eventual sibling which never came along and in my dream I had a vague awareness of sadness that the room still had no proper occupant. I’ve gotten out of bed and gone over to the window to see if the rain had flooded the yard, which it often does.
I’ve looked out the window, but it wasn’t the window in my spare room, it was the upstairs window from my bedroom as a child t my Mum’s house, and I could see that her fishpond had broken during the night – it’s built above ground and one corner of it had been broken somehow (too much rain? burst some loose bricks? I don’t know). So I’ve gone downstairs at Mum’s house through the back kitchen door, and there was my Mum, my Dad (died a year ago) and Unc (fav uncle) sloshing around in the water trying to save Mum’s fish. They had garbage bins and punchbowls filled with water with huge fish in them that we never knew were in the pond, but Mum’s turtle was no where to be seen and she was quite upset about it.
And then I woke up. In my own bed. Heard the rain on the roof. Then the awareness of severe pain. Just like every other morning.
.
