Wednesday, 3 June 2009

Calendar for June. Eventually.

So last night I had the oddest dream.

I had driven for miles to get to some parenting camp or other which took place in various locations. When we arrived we were just about to sit down when the Littlest Latte said: "I want to sit with the other Littlest Latte' and sure enough there was her identical twin sitting at the table.

(The Littlest Latte has completely different colouring to myself, Mr Coffee, and the Eldest Latte. Sometimes I look at her and wonder if I brought the wrong baby home. A less secure man than Mr Coffee might have a few niggling doubts about the state of his marriage.)

The two identical Lattes became inseparable. They had the same face, same mannerisms, same everything. I tried to take photos to prove it but whenever I did the camera just recorded photos of Mr Coffee on his performing arts degree in 1989.

I met the doppelganger's mother but she seemed disturbingly unconcerned at the proof that our children had clearly been separated at birth and did not belong to us at all. She was content to talk vaguely about genetic reasons for strawberry blonde hair.

On our way to to the next part of the course Mr Coffee realised that we were driving past the house of Knitters Knitters, who had told us that if we were passing we should drop in. When we did the house was empty, and we wandered around it awkwardly. It was palatial. In the laundry basket was the long scarf she has been blogging about recently, which Mr Coffee ran his hand across and pronounced to be the softest garment ever made. It swirled with blues and greens. We wanted to steal it, but that didn't seem kind.

Then she returned home, wearing a strange garment with butterflies that lit up at intervals. It was only then that we noticed the fluttery wire butterflies which were all over the walls of the house. I thought that these would be difficult to dust.

I was further concerned about cleaning the place when I saw that the bathroom was a huge wet room with a series of raised lily pads all the way across the floor. Well that's hardly disabled accessible, I thought.

All this dreaming is just proof to anyone who needed it that reading blogs isn't good for you. But this doesn't stop me recommending a visit or six to Driftwood's wonderful blog, which provided me with my calendar image for June.

I love Driftwood's blog. I love it when she goes to York, which brings back fond memories of my time at university there, and I love it when she bakes, or takes pictures of the sea, or whatever else she does.

And don't snipe about me for being late. Yes, I know how far into June we are.


  1. That is a very detailed and faintly disturbing dream. Were there any images of Mr Coffee making jazz hands on your dream camera?

    I'm glad I've already 'met' Tess, but if I hadn't I certainly would go now. In fact I may be due for a visit ...

  2. I am distracted from what I was planning to say because I am guffawing at Val's jazz hands comment...

    Oh yeah! As I have said in at least one other comment box, my dreams tend to be about giving birth to a cheese pizza that turns into a siamese cat and runs away. Yours is far preferable. And prettier. Except the twin thing is a bit unsettling...

  3. Silly! Those aren't butterflies: they're Ambien luna moths. And I'd never wear my light-up luna moth dress in the Frog Sanctuary Bathroom, for fear of electrocution.

  4. 1. You need to change the medication.
    2. Why has nobody told me about Knitters-Knitters before?
    3. Driftwood - the kindest emailier in Blogland - there have been times when a friendly email from her has saved the day.

  5. Oh bless you. I think you need a hot chocolate at bedtime.

    My eldest has taken to having strange dreams. He shouts and swears alot (I'm shocked at the language actually). His brother hides under the duvet for fear of being murdered.

  6. oh my that is a dream.....

    oh and you've made me cry by the way, was I been having a really bad day and your lovely recommendation and Val and Alice's comments tipped me over the edge. in the nicest way xoxox

  7. It's all the recreational drugs!

    Dreams ARE weird though. Not much good having a dream if you end up doing your shopping in Tesco is there!?

    Having said that...have you called the men in the white coats yet? (pmsl).

  8. Please do not come to my house. You are clearly insane and would only upset the pets.


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