Dreams

Good morning all, well it had been a busy night – it all started when I decided it was time to print off a new set of dentures on my 3D printer, fine until I remembered I’d already printed off a set yesterday and they’d still be inside the printer, “better stop” I thought as it may jam the printer – too late, on lifting the lid I realised the two sets had turned into a sort of crushed nylon curtain and when I attempted to remove it the printer turned into a spare bedroom in a demolished house in Morfa Street. This was OK, but there was already a party going on and some of my FB friends and contacts were playing a strange sort of hide-the-parcel party game.

I didn’t have time to investigate before my niece (who had suddenly become six again) decided to help empty the freezer of things lain hidden at the bottom for decades. Somehow there was a large piece of ham which hadn’t frozen but lay in a sticky liquid mess which when I assisted to help remove got all over the hall floor and started to soak its way up the new stair carpet, there must have been at least two bucketfuls of the stuff! Now this is where it starts to get interesting as my niece (now her correct age) and friends arrive for the party (previously going on elsewhere) and enter the hall halfway up and have to sit on the stairs until everything is mopped up, except two of her friends are impatient to leave so hand their children down the stairs to be hung on the hooks intended for hanging baskets until they could be reached from the bottom end of the stairs. The hooks were interesting as they had a sort-of “Peter Pan” style cover over them to protect the children from rain. I don’t recall whose youngsters were hung up there, but I didn’t recognise them!

Somehow the party shifted to the outside staircase at Little West (a former residence) in the snow where my brother’s friends from north west Wales (?) who all seemed to be Labour party supporters were gathering for a few Ozzie brews, there were all sorts of beers and wines all with bass in the title, but it was a while ago and now I can’t remember as I had to leave to visit the bathroom.

A little later, whilst standing on the banks of the River Kenfig where the derelict brick-built viaduct crosses the marsh, I spied NG, a historian I know trying to wade ashore from Sker Beach, Porthcawl. In the distance I could see others following him and was trying to direct him to the shallowest place to cross when two ladies arrived and asked if this was the party she was meeting. I soon discovered she had about 30 pre-school children with her all ill-appropriately shod for the muddy conditions underfoot, mostly in overly-expensive trainers or wearing plastic bags tied on with rubber bands. Whilst I was waiting for the friends to haul themselves ashore up one of the drainage pipes a marching band of cadets appeared on the sand on the opposite bank and with it a few aeroplanes doing a fly past, wrong camera, wrong lens, I noted and dashed back to my hotel to fetch the correct kit.

I couldn’t find the hotel, until I remembered they had a blue-glitter washing machine in the window and when I got there found an ex-neighbour and his uncle running the hotel, when they saw me they asked who was running the bar at the party last evening as they were too young and inexperienced. My hotel room was OK but it looked suspiciously like my Room 1 at Y Bwthyn Newydd.

At some point I was transported back to Kenfig Marsh where a cleric with a collar was taking his Raleigh bike out of the shed by the viaduct but was too busy at the time to take much notice as the teacher was asking me which were the best Wellington boots for the kids. “Dunlops are cheap if you want good leg protection and will last for ages, but Hunters are very comfortable if the parents have loads of dosh and the kids will love them as they are so comfortable” I recall was my reply, I also remember remarking North Cornwall Council will provide a grant for wellington boots (?). The planes didn’t make an appearance again, just as well, At just 300mm I don’t really have a lens long enough to cope.

I wrote this tale a few days ago after I’d had a shot of Oromorph the previous evening as I was not feeling too great. There was a lot more to this story but the memory faded quickly apart from the wackiest sections. Little pieces of this epic will be recognisable by some as they seem to be directly or indirectly connected with either personal visits or Facebook posts during the last day or so. Will keep you updated on my latest dreams, so long for now.

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