scribbles tagged ‘dreams’

Ready to go home

Saturday, October 24th, 2015 | tags: ,  |

ThreeSisters B&BIn the darker hours of the night I remembered knowing that in the morning I needed to be ready to be taken home. Someone would call and take me home, no need to pack anything

I knew that I was currently sleeping in my bed, in the Wendy house.  Happy that I was going to be taken, no public transport involved, no pain,  relieved that I didn’t need to pack anything or prepare the Wendy House to be left. No fuss.

Unbothered by not knowing where this next home is, or who else is there

In the morning light, no one came for me.  I would have been ready, if my time had come…

Ready to go home
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Monday, December 30th, 2013 | tags: , , ,  |

My dreams have taken a slightly sinister turn. Not nightmares because lucidity takes them to a peaceful conclusion, but they all start with a variation on one theme; Someone has broken into my home. I never meet the intruder, I see the results of their intrusion.

During last night’s episode the intruder broke in to connect a 2nd phone, identical to my current landline phone. The new phone produced calls of a baffling nature, they were for me but came from people I didn’t know who sounded confused and distressed. They needed help and I’d try to unravel their needs and sort their problems. I didn’t want to answer the phone with the disturbing calls. As the dream progressed the calls gradually stopped.

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deconstructing Dr Who’s equipment

Thursday, April 12th, 2012 | tags: , , , ,  |

My mother’s elder brother-in-law, a 94 year old ballroom dancing Mason, brings a collection of origami animals to a House family meal:

Niece 92’s boyfriend: I can work out how it’s made,  if I take it apart

Bros 57: Will you use a MaSonic screwdriver to take it apart?

Bros 62 and I laughed outselves off our chairs. The waiters hovered like vultures. We lost our Masonic uncle a couple of times that night, physically, mentally and metaphorically

Later that night I dreamt that Alan Bennet dropped by to sort us all out

That helped

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upping the sparkle quotient (part 1)

Thursday, March 1st, 2012 | tags: , , , ,  |

(WARNING: BORING – this is a DIY story)

  1. Paint tester potsDecide on a colour – Deciding what colour to paint the hallway and bathroom has taken 4 years. 4YEARS! Currently the bathroom is white – too clinical and boring. The hallway is a pale custard-yellow. Too insipidly polite for my taste.  The colours I like are too dark for these rooms which have small or north facing windows. Then INSPIRATION! –  during a particularly dark dream about people being abducted (for their body-parts on the healthcare black market) from an Opium den that I was ejoying – I saw the wall colour sparkling through the candle-light and smoke…. GOLD!
  2. Purchase 3 test paint pots – all marked as ‘gold’ looking like slight variations on the colour and damn sparkly. Each with a slightly different product names, produced by different companies, brands. Minor tea-fest to celebrate
  3. Move furniture and plants – out of the to-be-sparkled dark hallway and bathroom into the sun filled Orangerie. Had a cup of tea
  4. Sugar soap the walls – standing on my fabulous bauhaus bar stool to reach the high bits. Discover the bathroom was painted either before the plaster dried or without adequate priming….unexpected…. Chorus: wash hands, moisturize hands, have a cup of tea
  5. Bathroom paint peeled-offPeel-off poorly applied paint – peel the ploosely attached paint. A satisfying experience. Chorus…
  6. Paint 3 test squares on west, north and south facing walls then spend the daylight hours drinking tea and pondering how the natural light affects them at different times of day and artificial lights in the evening…  Chorus…
  7. Cut-in Hallway edges – a time consuming task because one of the main characteristics of hallways is that they have lots of doors (4 in this hall) and windows. Chorus…
  8. Sleep – overnight while the paint dries
  9. Cut-in the Hallway edges 2nd coat  and leave for 4hrs to dry Chorus…
  10. Prime bathroom bare wall. Chorus….
  11. Visit city recycle centre. Oh! Errrr! this is where the th 40-something attactive men hang-out on a Sunday afternoon….   ……I’ll be doing a tad more spring cleaning this spring…  Chorus…
  12. Paint hallway 1st coat. Then pack stuff away ready to finish with a coat or two next weekend Chorus…

 (DIY story on pause until the redecoration is finished… )

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devour and dodge

Friday, June 3rd, 2011 | tags: , , , ,  |

Last night I succumbed to a hedonistic Roquefort cheese devouring session, accompanied by a cheeky little Fitou ….mmmMMMmmmm…….

This helped produce a lovely dream, a relaxed family outing.

The dream turned lucid when I realised that my parents had driven my car without permission, into several walls, dodgem bumper car style. They blamed the car for poor usability.

Lucidity enabled me to fix the car promptly.

My parents are still the same.

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singing with ghosts

Saturday, May 14th, 2011 | tags: ,  |

prayersYou walk in my dreams, sometimes laughing, sometimes chiding. Standing flagpole straight.

Not suprised to see you, I don’t ask about your death, the pain that lead to it, or try to tell you of all that’s happened since.

We just get on with the business of being together, as we used to. Only now, I am comforted by your criticisms. Just being with you is so precious. My dreams feel  more real than when I try to find you with my wakeful thoughts. Sometimes I can cunjor you up with a song in the car, smiling as I hear the poverty of our approximate harmonies

Always missing you

You’re always with me, unacknowledged by others

I like it best when you arrive unexpectedly in my dreams

singing with ghosts
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Wednesday, March 9th, 2011 | tags: ,  |

Laughter, giggles and general tripping-up on the walk from the car to the game park. Inside we solved clues to an adventure orienteering course. Pairs of other players were running around the park, swinging on ropes, swimming in mud, opening combination safes. Some teams were taking the game seriously, looking at their watches, calling out military paces and shouting at dawdlers. With your penguine walk and healthy disregard for any rules that destroy fun, I am in the best company.

The car wasn’t where I’d left it. The parking attendant explained it was parked illegally because that spot was reserved for the owner’s grandmother. A grandmother that didn’t have a car, drive, or ever visit the game park. Reassuringly he told me the car was still nearby. Pointing towards an ancient Hawthorn hedgerow

We dismantled it, bagged it, and put it out of the way in the hedge

Dismantled? Surely I hadn’t heard that right. A huge canvas black bag in the hedgerow contained a jumble of car parts. Clunking and clinking. Luckily, I realised I was dreaming. The shock of seeing Thomas’s lovely alloys unceremoniously chucked, jolted me to half-consciousness. Lucid dreaming, keeping me in fantasy land, heading off nightmares. A confident young lady appeared beside me

Your car?

Well, it was

Thomas V2Just saying the words welled tears

Don’t worry, the parking attendant does this a lot, I know someone who’ll put it right

With cheerful banter, in the sort of instant that only happens in dreams and movies, Thomas was reconstructed and shinier than ever.

Lucid dreaming and the generosity of strangers, saves the night before the dawn wakes me!

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a child in the night

Friday, November 19th, 2010 | tags:  |

angel of the graveyardNightmares stopped long ago, in my childhood.

Nightmares didn’t prompt crying , screaming, or a trip to mum and dad’s room for a reassuring cuddle. They just made me feel uncomfortable, if uncomfortable can be classed as a nightmare.

I still hold the fading memories of the 3 themes that would turn a lively dream into an uncomfortable one:

  • Forgetting the lyrics to the Anglican version of the Lord’s prayer at a religiously significant moment such as when being attacked by vampires or werewolves
  • Loosing the ability to talk when a scream might come in handy such as when being attacked by vampires or werewolves
  • and the ever popular being suddenly and unexpectedly naked in a normal everyday situation. The nudity was less of a problem than the fact that everyone-else had clothes on and didn’t appear bothered by my nudity. Normally it’s only me that’s upset by the experience.  If those vampires and werewolves were around I would be more concerned about being able to scream or say the lords prayer than I would be about being naked.
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Paris mourning

Thursday, August 5th, 2010 | tags: , , , , , ,  |

New year really started in the bathroom of a 3 star hotel 45 minutes walk from Notre Dame. Not midnight amongst the Europeans singing, hugging, kissing and drinking. A houseparty of strangers. A strange flavour of tonic water.

It wasn’t raining, but the clouds seemed to crowd right into the bathroom mixing with the steam where the taps ran water into the bath as quickly as it ran out the plug hole.  I’d tired of scrubbing. Red and wrinkled skin from hours of soaking, foaming.  Sometimes if was difficult to tell if this was real or a dream.

The effects of the spiked gin and salty tears were gradually wearing off, being replaced by a profound silence and a kind of numbness I’d never known before or since. I drank more water. Sometime I would have to leave this room, through the one door back to the bedroom. Have to look into his eyes and see all that had happened the night before reflected there. All his questions and apologies, all his needs and regrets had to be faced.  There wasn’t enough room for me to run with the water down the plug hole.  Watching the water spiral down I wished as hard as I could to either wake from this dream or slide out with the water.

Slowly, precisely and with the conviction normally reserved for reprimanding criminals I turned the taps off, rose, dried and dressed myself. Blew my nose. Drank more water.  Closed the window. Composed, upright, dry faced.  In the privacy of my mind I could hear the applause and cheering for a well excecuted restoration job.

 I walked out of the bathroom


Paris mourning
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as you were

Sunday, June 20th, 2010 | tags:  |

After eating a tub of plump summer strawberries, I dreampt of you.

You as you were 20 years ago. Still beautiful, alluring and noncommital.

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poetry support line

Sunday, December 27th, 2009 | tags: ,  |

I dreampt a poem, it didn’t rhyme or have rythm, it wasnt a love poem, a funny poem or an action adventure poem.   It was a short story:

A person experiencing trouble writing poetry phoned  the poetry support line.    

we offer a non judgemental listening service for poets suffering from extreme distress   Through tears  the poet  described his pain,   all the rhymes had been used before by other, better, poets.   People that heard his poetry, smirked or even  laughed at his serious poems, looked baffled by his funny poems and fell asleep during his epic adventure poems.   For months now he had been unable to show anyone his poems.   Nothing worked, he had failed as a poet.   He’d even tried Haiku. There was no point, he was going to give up.  

We are here to listen.   After a short silence the poet read the last poem he had written then described all it’s shortcomings while he shed a few tears, then thanked the listener for not criticing his poem and for not pretending that the poem was better than it actually was.   He felt better now, thankyou, goodnight.


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rather bad dream

Monday, December 14th, 2009 | tags: , , , , , , ,  |

In my dream I was  still living with the *anker  that I actually  left in 2000 after years of building up the pluck to walk out.   Tight black leather jeans, tears bullying,   and that was just his his contribution to the dream, mine was even more icky.   I fell over several times at a cricket match during the game.   Most embaressing.  

Godley and Creme sang Under your thumb

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the cost of dreams

Sunday, October 18th, 2009 | tags: , , , , , ,  |

The imaginarium of Dr Parnassus    is a wonderful modern faerie tale.   It  mixes classic structures and characters (Old Nick) with modern settings, language, and characters.  

🙂 🙂 🙂


review ratings explained

Plot:    Very good.   A classic style of storytelling,   a new story.   A bet with the devil.   Souls to be won or lost.   The classic framework provides the structure that makes the plot easy to follow.   Easy to follow but not overly  predictable.    Cunning plans and twists.   There is  uncertainty about the virtue and honesty of some characters.   Who is working with, for,  Nick?   The film holds  a cheeky mirror to modern values as it portrays our dreams.      

Gilliam does not write his  female characterisations  in as much depth as his male characters.  There is only one noteable  female character in the film.    Her contribution is central to the plot while the role is  hardly touched and seems superficial.    Lets call her a token women.   A pretty girl that needs rescuing.  Sigh.  A blot on an otherwise wonderful film.  

A related disappointment was the pedestrian ending to the main storyline.    The final scenes  felt a bit anemic.    The scenes  tied-up the damsel’s storyline quickly and neatly.   This felt forced and out-of-keeping with the plucky playing in the other, mainly male,  storylines.   There are many wonderful ways that Terry could have ended the film.   I suspect Gilliam’s creative freedom was somehow compromised.  

Cast: Excellent.    Performances that had the kind of depth that comes from allowing talented actors to develop, improvise and extend their characters.   Apparently Heath Ledger’s last line  before he died was  ‘Don’t shoot the Messenger’ and Jonny Depp improvised the same line when playing Ledger’s character in the imaginarium.   Ledenhall Market

Sets. Excellent.   Physical locations included some of my favourite places,  such as  Ledenhall market in London and the Public Library in Vancouver BC.   The contrast between the architecture in these two locations was used well as a visual clue to different tones, temperaments, stages  of the plot.

The animated sets were breath taking.   Apparantly breathtaking animated sets are the norm for widely distributed films by famous directors with excellent casts.   Jolly good.  Thoroughly enjoyable.   Lots of ooOOOooooze and aaAAARRRRSSSssse.

Within the imaginarium these fantasy sets had the beauty, unpredictability and the  ominousness of real dreams.    

Audience:   one thing that  interferred with my  total immersion in this fabulous film  was the audience.   Specifically,   the lady sat next to me.    She insisted on sniffing loudly at 1spm (1 sniff per minute).   Every  few minutes there was a cough, sneeze, or other substantial air movement in her facial regions.   She did have some props for this activity, tissues, but  the noise and potential infection kept drawing me out of  the film into an unpleasant reality.   Ick.  

I will be watching this film again.

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cooperative cheese

Tuesday, August 4th, 2009 | tags: ,  |

Cooperative (Roquefort) CheeseI like my cheese cooperative

None of the rebellious ‘jump off the plate, run up your nose and tweak the little nasal hairs’  cheeses for me.   No.

My cheese lies submissively on the toast.   Raw and ready.   It slips down my throat and pimps up my dreams.

I’m feeling lucky tonight….     ….oh yes…

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behind the imitation window

Thursday, November 13th, 2008 | tags: , , , ,  |

fake windows in courtyardIn a small Siena courtyard the walls mimic windows,

forgetting to mimic shutters or reflections.

Silence and darkness within the windowless rooms.

Protecting the people within from too much colour,   too much light,   noises from neighbours and the street,   from the prying eyes of passersby.

In the silent darkness occupants can float on siestas unseen, unknown.

Freedom to dream of the luxuries of everything  and nothing

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where do you want to go tonight…

Saturday, September 20th, 2008 | tags: , , ,  |

Lucid dreaming is apparantly quite rare.    Excel has told me that the  10 friends and family who replied to my emailed question ‘do you lucid dream?’ were all wildly over educated, regularly creative (musicians, poets, designers, teenager), and all except 1 are either  not-married  or over the age of 30.   More specifically:

5/10 people do Lucid dream,  including:

  • 2/5 males
  • 3/5 girls
  • 3/3 immediate relatives

It’s fun,   I’d highly recommend it if you don’t already indulge…

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champagne dreams

Monday, August 25th, 2008 | tags: , ,  |

One  night before my holiday,   after drinking Stanlake Park champagne in the company of extremely charming, senior, neighbours,   I discovered the potential benefits of a champagne-induced dreaming.   Obviously these are only preliminary findings prior to systematic investigation.   The preliminary findings are looking good.   The dream qualities included but were not limited to:

  • warm squishiness.  
  • high memorability.
  • good mood inducing.
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Spiritual sensitive

Monday, March 24th, 2008 | tags: ,  |

A spiritual sensitive spent the night in the Wendy House guest room. He picked-up on Wendy House memories.

The house remembers  several of policemen looking at the bedroom wall over the kitchen. On several occasions since I’ve since seen flocks of policeman on bicycles swarming past, the Wendy House. He also saw a fellow on the landing darkly dressed, silent, wearing a bowler hat, watching the police people search, not ominous. I wonder what the house remembers?

I wonder how I can find out what the house remembers through more conventional means than dream observations, dreams have revealed nothing to me (yet)

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Sunday, October 14th, 2007 | tags: , , ,  |

It’s cold.   While shivering and looking for a quick dose of warmth I push  my hands deep into my jacket pockets.   In one pocket I felt a warm fluffy object.   Like a soft furry stick.   It did the job but I didn’t know what it was.   I pulled it out of my pocket to take a look.   It was Matrix’s right front leg,   apparantly recently severed from her body.   Still warm and wet with blood.

I woke-up very suddenly.     I suspect that was a real nightmare that wasn’t cheese induced.     Despite distinctly recalling going to bed last night I was definitely not in bed when I woke on the floor about 20 feet from the bed.   At least matrix is okay but I’ve gained a nasty bruise on the back of my  head and an ache to match.  



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Chimay = dream suppressant

Sunday, September 16th, 2007 | tags: , ,  |

Eighth report in my ongoing investigations of  cheese dream-inducing  properties.    

Conclusion   very tasty  dream suppressant.

Eating phase for Chimay:    1/6    nights produced dreams.          

Riding around on buses* in Birmingham, UK,   wandering through crowded flea  markets watching the shoppers,   down alleyways bordered by red-brick Victorian terraced houses in Birmingham.   I got lost and didn’t know which bus to get on to go home.   So many buses to choose from.   Dreaming about buses,   England and Victorian red-brick terraces adds up to I had a fabulous dream.

Decontamination Phase.   3/3 nights without eating Chimay.   No dreams.

You too can play along at home:   How to play dreamy cheese

* I  like  riding on  buses

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Stilton = sleep disrupting diverse dreams

Sunday, September 9th, 2007 | tags: ,  |

Seventh report in my ongoing investigations of  cheese dream-inducing  properties.

Conclusion   Mum was right for Stilton.   I recommend not  eating Stilton for supper.   Nightly sleep disruption  was  unusual and unpleasant. The dream content was not substantially different from my normal dream content.  The  dreams didn’t warrant the ‘unusual’ label given to  the female dreamers  in a study conducted by the UK    Cheeseboard   where: 85% of females who ate Stilton had some of the most unusual dreams of the whole study.

Eating phase for Stilton:   6/6 nights produced dreams.   Four dream summaries from different nights:

Memory enhancement  No storyline. No plot.  Less  like a dream, more of a vivid lucidly manipulated visualisation.   I remembered my uncle who died 20 years ago talking and laughing in his home.    It was good to see him again and remember the sound of his voice and laughter,   to see the way his whole body shook when he laughed,   to hear him jangling his keys in his pocket just like his brother, my father still does.   I saw him more clearly than I can remember him in waking hours.

Forgotten. All  I remember is waking up briefly in the night thinking ‘that was a sad dream,   I must remember it’ then falling asleep again.   When I woke in the morning I couldn’t remember the dream,    just the mood.

Celebrity Kitchen.   During most of this dream I was in  the kitchen of a  large Victorian terrace  house during with David Bowie creatively exploring the versatility of vegetables and kitchen utenisils.  Yummy.   I think it was a party but I didn’t see the other partiers in the house.

Work.   This is a common theme in my dreams during normal working weeks.   This specific variation combined and extended things that happened during the working week.

Decontamination Phase.   2/2 nights without eating Stilton in the evening produced  refreshingly deep sleep where I did not wake during the night or recall any dreams.

Summary.    Characteristics of Stilton induced Wendy-dreams:

  • reliably produced every night.
  • dream mood varied from sad through reflective, serious, to happy.
  • Content varied from  parties and work to  detailed visual experiences.
  • remembering the dreams varied from easily recalled  detail through to difficult to recall whether I had even dreamed.
  • sleep disruptive,   I woke  every night,   then fell asleep again fairly promptly.

You too can play dreamy cheese:   How to play dreamy cheese

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Havarti = dream of fun with friends

Sunday, September 2nd, 2007 | tags: ,  |

Sixth report in a popular sporadic investigation collecting  cheese dream-inducing  properties.    

Eating phase for Havarti:   5/6  nights produced dreams.   Dream memories lasted beyond breakfast.    Dreams were based in rare though normal life activities.  

Three outline examples:

Moving office with  appearances from colleagues across my 20yrs as a working gal.   The building that we moved into  used fireman’s polls as a way to get downstairs.    Reminiscent of ‘snakes and ladders’.   Quite a lot of fun was had by all as we unpacked our boxes,   drank lashings of tea, tried the firemans polls and had water-fights.    

Visiting the beach with Flat Eric and a climbing club that included everyone I’ve ever climbed with and some people that I know climb but haven’t climbed with.   Flat Eric did some amazing technical moves on some overhangs then we all went wind-surfing and small dhingy sailing in a Costa-Rica type location.    

Faerie Tour of UK pubs.   In a storyline that could have been produced by a collaboration between  Harold Pinter and Alan Bennett my friends  and I spent a summer touring real-ale pubs,   Inns,  staying in them and regularly dressing-up as faeries is the evenings.   Some larger fellows look a tad silly when wearing faeries outfits.   My  outfit was black and actually maps to many clothes that I have in my closet,   though I don’t have a black tiara and wings.     The dream mainly covered our escapades on tour.   Excellent fun.

Conclusion?   Very nice result.   I’m not publishing a decontamination phase because I plan to stay with Havarti for at least a couple more weeks .

Summary.   Havarti induced Wendy-dreams are:

  • very cheerful
  • consistently produced.
  • exaggerations of pleasant plausible realities.
  • persisted into  early waking hours  memories.
  • social events full of actual friends, family and work colleagues from throughout my life.
  • excluding  wierd morphing of people and things into wierd unfamiliar people and things.

You too can play dreamy cheese:   How to play dreamy cheese

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dreamy cheeses uncovered

Saturday, September 1st, 2007 | tags: , ,  |

While I was still under 5″6′ Mumzie would regularly remind me

don’t eat cheese before you go to bed.   It will give you a bad nights sleep and nightmares”      

An informal survey of  US people  revealed that naught-out-of-three  had been given similar advice by their Moms.   Are US Moms unfamiliar with the dreamy properties of cheese or  is dreamy cheese a myth?   This post summarises  my undercover research studies aimed at revealing the Wendy-dream-inducing characteristics of my favourite nibbles by eating them  after 7pm for 7 nights in  a week.   Here’s the dirt so far:  

Everytime I get the inclination to take another cheese under the covers I will update this  blog post.   You too can send me the outcomes of your undercover investigations  and I’ll publish them here  if you play by the official rules detailed in    ‘How to play dreamy cheese‘  and show due deference to UK cheeseboard research.

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scarey with shiny metal teeth

Tuesday, June 26th, 2007 | tags:  |

colleague:   I dreamt about you last night

wendy: yes?

colleauge: you were angry because I hadn’t finished this work

wendy: really?

colleague: you had metal braces on your teeth

wendy:  grrrrrr…       …gnash…       ...sounds like a nightmare    

colleague: not really

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Salemville Amish Blue, Gouda & Meowmix

Sunday, January 15th, 2006 | tags: , , ,  |

This week I’m eating Salemville Amish Blue cheese from Wisconsin.   It is moist, flavourful, crumbly  and tongue-slitheringly creamy….

 Eyan reports that Microsoft Word losing 2 hours of his intellectual effort  and a Gouda supper prefaced this rocky dream:

I was with my mother on the coast somewhere – the coasts were rather open and vast, somewhat influenced by photos I saw on I climbed down a rocky ravine to get down to the beach (this is more influenced by the upper Algarve) My mother was urging me on. But, true to style, I got stuck and was in grave danger of falling off and breaking a good few bones.

After an evening scoffing meowmix; Matrix leapt out of a seamingly deep coma with this dramtically delivered dream report:


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Danish Blue Cheese = Blue Dreams

Friday, January 6th, 2006 | tags: ,  |

Fifth report in my ongoing cheese investigations.  

Eating phase (Danish Blue cheese supper):

6/6  nights produced dreams.   Unfortunately dream content was forgotten promptly.    Dream impressions were mostly reminiscent of those  I have during a ‘fever’:   intense, bizarre, rejuvenating with some pleasingly adult content.

Decontamination phase (no Danish Blue supper):


I’m planning to continue investigating Danish Blue across the weekend to check if sleeping-in will improve my memory for the content.  

Shifting directly to another Blue cheese when my current Danish Blue supply runs out.


Danish Blue consistently produced dreams.

Dreams were intense, bizarre and blue.    ..mmmMMmmm….

Dreams rarely persisted to morning memories.


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Gouda with Cumin seed dream

Tuesday, December 20th, 2005 | tags: , , ,  |

A  special guest entry written, edited  and coloured by language specialist Eyan (aka WhitePrince):

Now time to tell you my Gouda with Cumin seed dream before I go to bed:

It starts off with a Japanese boy being interviewed in a tv programme about a plane crash he was involved in. For the sake of clarity I think the Japanese boy is the author’s alter ego. He couldn’t be much further removed from the author’s ethnic profile, but there you go. As the interview progressed, images from the plane crash were shown, which, of course, then became a reality, or a dream reality let’s say. The Japanese boy was pinned to the back of his seat terrified as the plane was losing height very quickly. He was aware he was about to die. At this point the author chose to terminate the performance as he knows plane crashes are rather distasteful. He woke up breathless, but this was probably more due to dust mite allergy than anything   else.

From a scientific point of view – to what extent did the cheese have an effect on the subjects dreams ?

Things to be taken into consideration –

a – The subject is a regular air traveller. He has experienced some very intricate flying manoeuvres, especially in Iberia planes over the sea whilst coming in to land at Barcelona airport. Some pilots should understand that planes do not make u-turns like  a stolen car would do when driven by tearaway  teenagers.

b – He is a fan of Johan Grimonprez’s “Dial H-I-S-T-O-R-Y, a art video film mainly about hijackings. He has seen it again twice recently at the Caixa Forum art centre In the film there are interviews with hijack hostages. There are also Japanese in the film, both hostages and Red Army hijackers. For American sensibilities this is probably not a recommended film.

c- He suffers from allergies and asthma, so any dreams involving frightening, breath-taking  situations may be attributable  to this.

Hope you enjoyed the show. Thank you and goodnight.

Eyan wisely outlines a clear impact of waking life events and interests in dreams.   Waking life events have lead to my own investigations this week going awry heavily due to more

  • fish-eating
  • cheescake eating
  • varied cheese  intake.   (Roquefort bread, Brie, Cream cheese, Edam BabyBel).   Yummy!
  • Abnormal alocohol consumption (mulled wine,   mud slides etc)


Wendy free-form-dream-diary-till-January

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Edam = dream suppressant

Sunday, December 18th, 2005 | tags: ,  |

Fourth report in my ongoing cheese investigations.  

Eating pase (Edam cheese supper):

5/5 nights produced no awareness of dreams.  

Half way through the week I skipped the supper  and that night had an Outstanding,   unpublishable, dream.

Decontamination phase (no Edam supper):

1 Vivid,   long, extremely enjoyable dream about  living in  a Victorian red-brick townhouse with many colourful guests and secret passage-ways under carpets &  behind furniture.   Wonderful textures and details.

I ate seafood on the two nights that I didn’t eat Edam  and did dream.   I don’t normally eat seafood.


Edam is a dream supressant.

Seafood may be a dream stimulant.

This week I’ll be eating mostly mini Babybel.

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brilliant thangs…

Saturday, December 17th, 2005 | tags: , , , , , , , ,  |

20 brilliant things.   A self-referential indulgence    

Any one of these things can make my day sparkle:

  1. Bakelite
  2. Boyfriends
  3. Bunnies
  4. Cheese
  5. David Byrne
  6. Dreams
  7. Glasses (optical accessories)
  8. Gravity operated catfood dispensers
  9. Hats
  10. Lists
  11. Mums
  12. Other people’s clothes
  13. Paper
  14. Poetry
  15. Pressies
  16. Pretty dresses
  17. Real Ale (NOT US Microbrews)
  18. Wendy’s Frendys
  19. Wendy’s Wardrobe
  20. Yellow roses

What is really brilliant is that this list could go on and on and on and on….   …there are soooooooo many brilliant thangs…     …your brilliant list of things is probably different.   May include  furry bedding or something.   What-ever,     lots of goodies for the holidays.

W wonderful-thanging

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Cream Cheese = ‘Normal’ dreams

Saturday, December 10th, 2005 | tags: , ,  |

Third report of my cheese-dream intestigation.  

Eating phase (Cream cheese supper):

3/6 nights produced dreams.   Nothing vivid, lucid, outrageous.   Nothing  where the content is even worth reporting or ‘unpubishable-ing’.

3/6 nights.   No dreams.   Pah!

WonderWoman had a similar experience with ‘Laughing Cow’ cream cheese:

Despite slavering Laughing cow onto several begals, I have no dreams to report whatsoever. <unpublishable caveat>”

Decontamination phase (no cream cheese supper):   1 night. 1 forgettable dream.



Rather like not eating a cheese supper at all. Pah!

Recommended for the unadventuous.   I’m beginning to suspect that soft cheeses are just not dream-tastic.


This week I’ll be eating Edam.

The WhitePrince, who is experimenting with coloured emails,  reported yesterday that after eating Edam:

I dreamt we were in your kitchen, each making his or her own breakfast and talking about <unpublishable>. You filled your French-style coffee bowl with frothy hot milk and I  ate my weetabix  from a large white cutlery tray. You were displeased when I accidently put sugar on top of your frothy milk.

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