Good morning, Readers!
I found this gorgeous art on wallpapersden.com.
I had an incredibly vivd dream last night. I was back in the house in which I grew up in in Australia, only it wasn't quite the same house. It was in the same spot. The yard was the same. But the house looked a little different. Also, despite it being in the same yard, and despite my going for a walk up to the Tower's Hill Lookout (which I often did), it wasn't quite Australia.
I know this because I first went to a market. It was essentially an open market, with a number of different shops that sort of bled into one another without defined walls or floor space, but was all under one roof. There was one shop I saw that specialised in selling Australian food. It was their gimmick, as it were. They had Vegemite, which made me very excited, but they did not have Chico Babies, which I found disappointing.
I also remember that the next store over, at the back of the market, was a workshop that sold all kinds of glass and leather jewellery; semiprecious stones, and really beautiful hand-carved sculptures. I don't know why, but that store really stuck out to me.
Anyway, I was there, as was the Amazing Flatmate. We browsed the market, which was lovely, but empty, and then went to my home/not-home. Once there, we made lunch, and I saw one of my dogs; and absolute champ of a pup we unimaginatively had called WD. It stood for White Dog. He was white.
We were not especially inventive children, apparently.
It was a reunion. I had been away a long time, and WD was extremely happy to see me (and I him). After lunch, I decided that it would be a great idea to head up to the Tower's Hill Look Out, and take him with us. So, on went the leash, and off the Amazing Flatmate and I went, walking up the pink gravel road (that's a legit thing, by the by. Last time I went home, everything had started to be paved over with black, but growing up, the roads were all pink gravel).
There was no one around. It was deserted. My dreaming mind justified it. After all, we are experiencing a global pandemic. Why would it be any different in the dream world? It was quiet in dreamland, because of the pandemic.
So, in the wee hours of this morning, I was able to visit my long-since-dead pupper and take him for a walk, all while showing the Amazing Flatmate my childhood home, which wasn't actually in Australia (even though it was in reality). All this while aware of the current global pandemic.
It has left me feeling a little sad. I can't say that I'm particularly fond of my time in the land of Oz. Depression really screwed me up. But, I miss WD terribly. He was a great dog. And I miss being able to leave my backyard and immediately be in the scrub, running barefoot and half-wild along quartz-strewn goat tracks to my favourite place to be alone (it was at the bottom of Tower's Hill, actually. There was a tiny little creek made possible by a tiny little hole in the town's reservoir, which supported an impressively sized tree that I think might have been a Banyan Tree, judging from the roots that grew from the branches and then down into the ground. It was something of a sacred site for me, and was the sole witness to many tears and whispered wishes).
And I miss Vegemite.
Dreams always fascinate me. Not because I can ascribe any particular meaning to them, but because the brain is endlessly fascinating. Let me know your weirdest dreams, or the ones you most vividly remember in the comments. I'm always interested.
I know this because I first went to a market. It was essentially an open market, with a number of different shops that sort of bled into one another without defined walls or floor space, but was all under one roof. There was one shop I saw that specialised in selling Australian food. It was their gimmick, as it were. They had Vegemite, which made me very excited, but they did not have Chico Babies, which I found disappointing.
I also remember that the next store over, at the back of the market, was a workshop that sold all kinds of glass and leather jewellery; semiprecious stones, and really beautiful hand-carved sculptures. I don't know why, but that store really stuck out to me.
Anyway, I was there, as was the Amazing Flatmate. We browsed the market, which was lovely, but empty, and then went to my home/not-home. Once there, we made lunch, and I saw one of my dogs; and absolute champ of a pup we unimaginatively had called WD. It stood for White Dog. He was white.
We were not especially inventive children, apparently.
It was a reunion. I had been away a long time, and WD was extremely happy to see me (and I him). After lunch, I decided that it would be a great idea to head up to the Tower's Hill Look Out, and take him with us. So, on went the leash, and off the Amazing Flatmate and I went, walking up the pink gravel road (that's a legit thing, by the by. Last time I went home, everything had started to be paved over with black, but growing up, the roads were all pink gravel).
There was no one around. It was deserted. My dreaming mind justified it. After all, we are experiencing a global pandemic. Why would it be any different in the dream world? It was quiet in dreamland, because of the pandemic.
So, in the wee hours of this morning, I was able to visit my long-since-dead pupper and take him for a walk, all while showing the Amazing Flatmate my childhood home, which wasn't actually in Australia (even though it was in reality). All this while aware of the current global pandemic.
It has left me feeling a little sad. I can't say that I'm particularly fond of my time in the land of Oz. Depression really screwed me up. But, I miss WD terribly. He was a great dog. And I miss being able to leave my backyard and immediately be in the scrub, running barefoot and half-wild along quartz-strewn goat tracks to my favourite place to be alone (it was at the bottom of Tower's Hill, actually. There was a tiny little creek made possible by a tiny little hole in the town's reservoir, which supported an impressively sized tree that I think might have been a Banyan Tree, judging from the roots that grew from the branches and then down into the ground. It was something of a sacred site for me, and was the sole witness to many tears and whispered wishes).
And I miss Vegemite.
Dreams always fascinate me. Not because I can ascribe any particular meaning to them, but because the brain is endlessly fascinating. Let me know your weirdest dreams, or the ones you most vividly remember in the comments. I'm always interested.
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