Dundee Blues

This was a dream I had some time ago when my youngest son and myself were standing at the rear of a house in Perth. There was a feeling of dread, extremely strong, and then a blinding flash from the direction of Dundee, about 22 miles away. Some sort of nuclear device had detonated.
Wondering now why Dundee, who was it that I didn't like in that area? Mind you, traditionally there is some ill feeling between the two cities, or there was when I was younger. But that is taking things a bit far. Now know quite a lot of people in that area, some I like much more than others. But it was only a dream.
Going there today.

Yet Another Confrontation

I was sitting having a picnic at the side of a rocky path. Earl Grey out of the flask and two cheese sandwiches.
A young boy about 12 years old came and sat beside me. He was crying. I asked what was wrong. He said that three young men, now approaching, had punched him. A swift internal debate ensued and I decided they would not pass unchallenged. I blocked their path and asked what they were about, attacking a boy, half their age. Big mistake I then thought. Threats were exchanged, but unexpectedly they climbed down and offered to shake the boy by the hand. This they did and moved on. I then noticed that behind and unseen by me sat the young boy's friends, about 40 of them.

I would if I could

Climbing up inside a block of flats (again!) to visit my girlfriend (I wish). Behind me came this other guy, a rival in love. As I was expected and, presumably, he not, I decided against a stairhead battle outside her door, I turned around to deal with him. At this point my girlfriend appeared at the door, looking for me. She saw the situation and decided to de fuse it by asking the rival inside for a quick chat (I hoped!). He went inside, saying to her that she couldn't possibly be serious about me. She replied that my name was Peter Wood, that I was well named, and apart from anything else, whilst I was waiting for a few minutes, I would be able to build something impressive outside her door, made of course, from wood.
That will teach me.
ps I think she must have made that name up.

Ocean Bridge

Walking across an bridge which headed out into the Atlantic with a friend. Further and further out to sea, mist gathering, wave height increasing, fear escalating. Voices coming from the wind and the waves, without understanding. We were coming to a point of no return, as scary to go back as forward, we held hands. A barrier was passed and I awoke.

The Motorcycle and the Tower Block

I roared off on my new 1000cc motorcycle, heading somewhere, I didn't care. Up a steep hill I powered, now off road. Higher and higher effortlessly up to the very summit. I reached it, pleased as punch. Well done bike! I teetered on the very tip. I tried to turn, suddenly terrified, no way down, the hill had unfairly increased its gradient. Was I destined to remain forever perched on my now useless and traitorous machine, like some exhibit?

I then eased myself into another dream where I was climbing endlessly up stairs inside a tower block with Max my dog, who suddenly rebelled at the exercise and ran back down to the ground floor. Near the top a stair gave way underneath me, leaving a yawning gap and cutting off my retreat. I carried on to the top flat where I found Callum, my son now living. Had a nice wee chat with him and tried to head back down to find Max. Realised I had left my jacket, so returned but noticed through the glass door a purple coat shaped blur that could only be his mother. Not sure what to do then, seeing her was problematical and the stairs downwards had a large gap. Awoke before having to resolve this problem.

Some common themes emerging.

To really sea life

Woke up feeling really crap this morning. May have had something to do with the dream. I was standing outside a clifftop hotel somewhere on the west coast of Scotland. I walked up to the cliff edge and saw that the sea was flat calm and incredibly clear. I could see straight through the water to the sand and rocks on the sea bed. Not just at the shore but far out to the horizon the sea was totally transparent. The variety and colours of fish were amazing, totally enthralling. More Red Sea than Atlantic. Also the dolphins, huge friendly faced creatures coming right up to the shore, jumping, somersaulting and diving. I turned to the hotel door to call my son and his mother, just inside the porch. "You must see this," I shouted. They rushed to the clifftop but the sea had returned to its normal state, grey, opaque, breaking waves and no dolphins. They wondered what I was on about. I couldn't believe the change and felt totally crap.

Symbolic?

Another from the archives this time about a mountain with stairs up the middle. They were dark and very gloomy, but safe. The outside route up the mountain was open, exciting and a real challenge, but dangerous. Which route to take?

Go West

I was looking after two large goldfish for a friend that lived in Edinburgh. She had recently moved to the Western Isles. The tank that they were kept in was necessarily small as I had previously had to shuttle them back and forward to Edinburgh. This westward move meant that I was stuck with the fish or had to drive over to return them. I was reluctant to do this as apparently she had moved to the island leaving everything behind. Another friend came to my house and said I was cruel for keeping the fish in such a small tank. We then decided to go west together with the fish and either return them to their owner or let them swim free in the Atlantic Ocean.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=39KZ2afBtLU

Trust me, I have GPS.

Out for a cycle run with a friend. We veered off the main road and ascended a narrow track which then started to lead downhill in a series of giddy inclines. I wasn't sure if the track led in the direction we wanted to travel, so in the wonder filled way of dreams I conjured up a GPS overview in my head. Reassured that our direction was good, we set off downhill round the bends. Joggers coming the other way had to be avoided. Then unexpectedly we careered down steps not shown on the GPS picture. Ouch, ouch! This led into a huge covered area reminiscent of Kings Cross railway station. No GPS signal, blast! Unsure of what exit to take my friend gave me a verbal thrashing for leading her astray. To escape I successfully found my way into wakefullness.

Jumbo isolation

I was flying alone in a Jumbo jet made of plywood. Quite a feat of carpentry. No other passengers or flight crew, just me, sitting in the passenger accomodation. No wonder considering the construction material. I looked out of a window and the plane started to bank over, looking out of the other windows made the plane bank in that direction. I sat in the middle and a level, even flight was resumed. I seemed to have some influence on the flight's progress, which was reassuring. Sitting in the middle I was also aware that I could sense what was outside the plane, sitting at window seats destroyed that ability. I started to panic and control was lost, I woke up.

Time line

A short but vivid dream last night of floating along a thin line. I looked down and could see another fuzzier line which had hours marked on it, although not very clearly. I was aware that I could float downwards to, say 7am, and then I would awaken at that time. I was in a slightly lucid dreaming state. Also aware of a friend nearby watching me and perhaps a bit concerned.
Wondering now of course if it was uni-directional, could I reverse? Could I speed ahead? Maybe not possible or allowed.

The Waiting Room

This dream was about a month before my dad died. He was in a nursing home and I used to visit him with my children. He always sat in a window seat overlooking the town. He waited endlessly for a train to arrive. All the staff in the home, in his mind, took on roles from a railway station, the station master, guards and porters. All this was interspersed with memories from his war years. The staff would call him for his tea, he would respond by asking if he should take his rifle. Normally they said that he need not bother. Once when my youngest son, Callum, entered the room, he was warned to duck down because of the high sniper risk, he immediately hit the floor. Mind you, for years I was terrified of the seaside after my Dad told me that a large scar on his chin was caused by a shell on an Italian beach. Also, a fall in the ward corridor instantly transferred itself to a real wound he received on a sharp edge of a Nissan hut in North Africa etc.

Eventually I suppose his train did arrive.

The dream caption is about me being able to save Callum and Richard but not my Dad. Not a train that is arriving though.

Ben Nevis Estate

No dream last night so another from the archives. It was when I had a love affair with Ben Nevis, actually I probably still do. The housing estate that I lived in at the time handily transported itself to the slopes of the Ben. I could then walk out of my front door and begin climbing. Maybe that's an ideal that I aspire to, bringing the things I like together into one place (woman?). Alas the opposite seems to be what actually happens. Also, I now struggle to get out of bed, never mind doing a winter ascent of Tower Ridge.

Tie Problems

I needed to spruce myself up so I went into a large apartment store to buy myself a new tie. As I was admiring all the ties in the Tie Department, I glanced at the floor and tutted at all the fragments of ties lying around. My tut was heard by a Borat like, Tie Department Manager. He immediately grabbed me by the lapels and shouted, "You lot from the Electrical Department are all the same, forever criticizing our bow tie making methods." I presumed then that they just cut up ordinary ties to make bow ties. I protested that I was a customer and unconnected with the Electrical Department. "Worse and worse," he roared, "Not even qualified to mend a fuse!" I left without a tie.

Global Warming and Green Issues

I went into a large public toilet for a pee. The toilet consisted of long channels of narrow water gardens. A load of men were standing alongside the channels waiting for the water levels to rise. This I thought could take a long time, if ever, according to ignored evidence from BBC Channel 4. I noticed that they were all men or boys I had known from the past, some now dead. It was all too crowded and weird for me so I left.
I then decided to fit new spiked tyres onto the front wheels of my Volvo. I thought this would aid adhesion, lessen wheel slip and so conserve energy. A friendly woman shouted a garage man from his house who removed my front wheels. I noticed with mild interest that when the wheels were removed the car remained suspended without any jacking system. I then proudly entered my car complete with its new set of vicious front wheel spikes, blithely ignoring the fact that it was rear wheel drive.

White flowers from the sky.

This is the only dream, had by someone else, that I have painted.

It was a dream that my sister had, following the death of our father some time ago. She was standing on the shores of a loch when a shower of white flowers and petals descended from the sky. One of my favourites.

The Adventure of the Old Bicycle Ride.

I mounted my old bicycle, an ancient machine with poor brakes. I set off downhill gathering speed. The bicycle changed into a police van complete with a female passenger. In the back of the van was a double mattress partially covered by a sheet. I stopped with difficulty on the hill and with my companion took the mattress out of the van and pushed it through the open window of the bedroom of a nearby house, to rectify the sheet problem. We then put the sheet properly onto the mattress and started to push the mattress back out of the window. I decided I needed a pee and so went over to a corner of the bedroom, as I thought it would be an imposition to use the toilet. My female companion mentioned that a neighbour was watching so I rejoined her in returning the mattress to the van. The female owner of the house appeared demanding an explanation. I hardly thought any explanation was required but when her husband appeared insisting on a repair to his damaged wooden window frame, I began to lose my temper. I then proceeded to show him that the window frames were rotten and that the fault lay entirely with him. Tutting to myself we resumed our downhill journey.

A lot of obvious sexual themes here, now wondering on what problem to look at first.

Earl Grey, Blindness and a Lunar Eclipse

I was sitting at a table in an open square in a foreign country, sipping my earl grey. It was a beautiful place, busy but peaceful. Suddenly, I could no longer see, I had been struck blind. I continued to sit, unable to take this in. I even had another drink of earl grey, albeit with difficulty. What should I do, shout out, try to find my way to a place of safety, wait for something to happen? Maybe my sight would return. Does drinking too much earl grey make you blind? Perhaps someone I knew would come along and find me. I felt extremely vulnerable. Who would answer my shouts, a waitress, robbers, police, bemused passers by? How could I judge if they were ok or not? It was a different universe, rules had suddenly changed. I was never even completely at ease with the old ones!

I awoke, to see moonlight pouring in my window, incredible relief. Memories of the 'Day of the Triffids' came back. Last night I had seen the eclipse of the moon, the best ever, beautiful shades of grey, green and a coppery red. A white light retreating then creeping over the lunar surface. A fantastic 3D effect through the binoculars.
A profound appreciation that I can see.

Lost Dog

Max, my 17yr old dog, had disappeared. He had trotted off along a rocky beach, trailing his lead. Always the explorer, the beach offered a lot for the connoisseur of doggy type smells. Its rocky edge provided plenty of nooks and crannies for the convenience of tourists. I wandered up and down for hours searching. Calling his name was pointless as he has the peculiar affliction of judging sounds coming 180 degrees from their true source. Hearing his name called sent him running off in the opposite direction. Woke up still dogless.

Pacified slightly by his presence on the floor in the morning.

Fruit Cake and Mice

Suddenly I needed a snack. Naturally enough, I decided to toast two slices of fruit cake. I retired to a safe distance and awaited results. Unexpectedly I heard noises coming from the toaster, suspiciously like cries for help. I pulled out the plug and peered inside. A crumb snacking mouse had been in the process of being toasted along with the fruit cake. Whilst deciding how to resolve this situation, another mouse appeared and pulled its colleague from the jaws of the toaster. They then both run around me in the spirit of celebration. I binned the fruit cake.
Wondering about the connection between fruit cake and madness.