When the going gets stressful, the stressful get resourceful and a little off-kilter. I am trying to revive a sourdough starter from the bottom of the fridge. If it works I shall have a semi-rye sourdough bread in three days time. If not, I shall have a fizzy mess of wild yeasts and will have wasted a kilo or more of expensive stoneground flour.
Pollens whirl around in the chilly wind and many people in the village have hayfever. I can hear my neighbour sneezing as she hangs out washing. Why is she hanging out her washing so late in the day? I must go and peer over the fence. Nosiness is how human societies come to be glued together in curiosity and concern.
My Internet has slowed to snail speed. And I have to write about speculative finance and commodity fetishism and all kinds of odd subjects. Is there life after Google?
Last night I had a dream about a man I lived with when I was 19. In the dream we were together in a guesthouse with more bathrooms than bedrooms and the guests wandered in and out of rooms wrapped in towels, searching for somewhere to lie down. I had a dog that was small and wicked, running away when he was called, a little red ferret of a dog. The man I loved was young again, 23, smiling and pleased to see me, but his eyes were firmly shut, so I had no idea if he knew who I was. When I woke up I wished I could speak dream. There is a mysterious dream language that is so intensely personal and indecipherable.
I had strange dreams a couple of weeks ago. Lately, I had none that I remember. I find dreams fascinating and a little eerie.
Dreams are fun for me. I like waking up after a particularly intense one.
This week I picked up the Sun Magazine reading an article “What Did You Dream Last Night?” written by Barbara Platek. Several particular dreams saved Marc Barach’s life. There are many dreams that still have such a strong imprint from the past that I can recount them today.
http://www.thesunmagazine.org/issues/428/what_did_you_dream_last_night