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I came home today to find a dead rat in my sitting room. One of the perils of cat ownership combined with cat flappery. It's not the first creature I've found, and this one had the bonus (from my perspective of course) of being dead and therefore not flying/running/hopping about the house squealing and shedding feathers and shit. Not quite sure then, why the sight of this creature reduced me to hysterical tears. hmm. -My dad is a sweetheart tho, instead of me stoically gathering the corpse for a dustpan disposal as normal, I phoned Mum - she told dad, and even before she'd twigged that I was aweeping and awailing he was on his way round to rescue me. -(He was a bit shocked therefore when I opened the door tearstained and sobbing, but dealt with the additional crisis admirably!)
After this storm had passed:
I took my injured chum to Kessingland to the opening of a new gallery and on to somerleyton for a party - abandoned her there tho and went on to a bbq held by another friend. Now I'm going to have a scone and clotted cream, and a nice cup of coffee. then bed.
oh and I'll cut the rest, cos other people's dreams not really interesting:-
I had horrendous dreams last night: In a strange environment - a kind of huge garden centre, but loads of waterlogged sheds and half built/half decaying buildings. A strange woman was showing us around, pointing out the optimistic plans that had been made and showing the dangerous ollapses and ramshackle failures that had been the reality. My Mother was with us,a nd at some point it became known that she was pregnant and due to have her baby soon. this was bad news, my mother is far too old to be having babies and her health could not stand it. There was major anxiety around this, met with blase disinterest from the medical professionals.
There was a change - although the feeling of anxiety remained - and we were in a differnt home, things were Dickensian in appearance - lots of bearded gentlemen with pocket watches type thing - although it shouldn't be as I and my family were very much still of the current century, it was if there was a time bubble and we were seeing into the wrong century - more anxiety. in this room an elderly male relative was dying - and the wake had begun even though he was living.; All the bearded gents were drinking and throwing coins - which had to be gathered as a sign of respect, but unobtrusively else bad luck would be called upon the death of the ill chap.
then we were back in thegarden centre place and a teenage boy appeared, telling me 'my baby is dead' - at that point the pregnant woman ceased to be my mother. a man appeared, who was the father of both the teen and the baby. there was sorrow and grief and the news that the baby had died in the womb. We had to watch it being born. It was born 'into' a blue metal container like a tool box, then taken and thrown out onto a pile of hospital debris and clinical waste - then it was burnt.
It was horrific - the whole thing suffused with such a feeling of anxiety and fear - especially the 'ghost' bit, and the dread when it was my mother that was unwell, and then the macabre birth and incineration of the babe. - no wonder I've been so teary today.
After this storm had passed:
I took my injured chum to Kessingland to the opening of a new gallery and on to somerleyton for a party - abandoned her there tho and went on to a bbq held by another friend. Now I'm going to have a scone and clotted cream, and a nice cup of coffee. then bed.
oh and I'll cut the rest, cos other people's dreams not really interesting:-
I had horrendous dreams last night: In a strange environment - a kind of huge garden centre, but loads of waterlogged sheds and half built/half decaying buildings. A strange woman was showing us around, pointing out the optimistic plans that had been made and showing the dangerous ollapses and ramshackle failures that had been the reality. My Mother was with us,a nd at some point it became known that she was pregnant and due to have her baby soon. this was bad news, my mother is far too old to be having babies and her health could not stand it. There was major anxiety around this, met with blase disinterest from the medical professionals.
There was a change - although the feeling of anxiety remained - and we were in a differnt home, things were Dickensian in appearance - lots of bearded gentlemen with pocket watches type thing - although it shouldn't be as I and my family were very much still of the current century, it was if there was a time bubble and we were seeing into the wrong century - more anxiety. in this room an elderly male relative was dying - and the wake had begun even though he was living.; All the bearded gents were drinking and throwing coins - which had to be gathered as a sign of respect, but unobtrusively else bad luck would be called upon the death of the ill chap.
then we were back in thegarden centre place and a teenage boy appeared, telling me 'my baby is dead' - at that point the pregnant woman ceased to be my mother. a man appeared, who was the father of both the teen and the baby. there was sorrow and grief and the news that the baby had died in the womb. We had to watch it being born. It was born 'into' a blue metal container like a tool box, then taken and thrown out onto a pile of hospital debris and clinical waste - then it was burnt.
It was horrific - the whole thing suffused with such a feeling of anxiety and fear - especially the 'ghost' bit, and the dread when it was my mother that was unwell, and then the macabre birth and incineration of the babe. - no wonder I've been so teary today.