Approximately five minutes before I took this picture, I had explained to the owner of the hand - one of our French volunteers - about how in English the French are referred to as Frogs. He didn't seem to know, whereas I thought the whole planet knew that. Last night I dreamt I went to Manderley again. No, that's not right, that's the first line of a Daphne du Maurier book.
Erm, last night I dreamt I was appearing in 'The Merchant of Venice' except that in the dream it wasn't called that, I only realised it when I woke up and recognised Portia's speech from it. In the dream I could only remember one speech, and I couldn't find a copy of the book to mug up from. Also, I thought my character was called Quentin rather than Portia. I don't think there's a future in it for me.
The second bedroom is now painted and Kevin has assembled the lovely bed which I bought from a well-known local furniture store.
Maybe tonight I'll dream of Manderley.
3 comments:
wow that's a complex dream.
Of course the Froggish know that!
It's genetic.
Like us being born bitter about the Norman Conquest and carrying an 'ancestral memory' of Agincourt!
You need to stop eating cheese before bed!
I wish there were some kind of device for recording dreams and then you could work them out more accurately later. Hmm.. As for the cheese, it's a vice and I just have to live with its consequences....
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