Wednesday 9 September 2015


I woke up early this morning to Louise calling out in terror. Well, all I caught was her cries of “Help! No!... Help! No!” I looked over at her and she was peacefully asleep. I watched for a while until I was sure that she was indeed asleep and not in mortal peril.

I lay there wondering what it was that could upset her so much one minute and leave her in peaceful rest the next. I didn’t ask her partly because I suspected she wouldn’t remember and partly because I didn’t remember to. I was kind of thankful she didn’t defend herself by punching me. That has happened before, but I think that I was being a bastard the last time.

I don’t remember my dreams as often as I would like. IN fact, for a number of years I would have sworn that I didn’t dream at all. I know that everyone dreams but most of those dreams aren’t remembered. I have no idea what dreams mean. We own a book or two on the meaning of dreams, but the books are either too vague or my dream bird wasn’t the same as the bird in the book. Very distressing! I suppose that I could go to a psychic and have her/him interpret the dream for me, but that would add just another layer of fogginess to the dreams meaning.

I like to think that dreams are just a way for our minds to make sense of what has gone on during the waking hours. We just catch snippets of the dreams and I am sure that if we could somehow record them there would be a kind of sense to the whole thing. Maybe? I have thought at one time that dreams are the bits of memory that simply don’t fit into any specific category in the minds filing system. I have papers on my desk like that. Most of the paperwork has a theme or a place and belongs in this pile or that pile. Dream bits are the ones that keep getting moved around but have no pile to call their own.

They are the assorted memories. The name Jane Drover for instance is written on my desk blotter and I have an idea that she is somehow significant in some way. I tear off a blotter sheet and write the name Jane Drover on the new one so that when I do finally figure it out I will know the name. There is also a series of letters and numbers which I can only assume represent the password for some internet thingy. Again, one day it is possible that I will find the lock that password key fits.

Dreams are probably the “Assorted” file in our brains. Those that dream often have a poor mental filing system and those of us who rarely dream have found a spot for the weird and wonderful memories.

Last night Louise just had a rogue memory that didn’t want to get filed away and it was calling for help…

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