Dreaming Of Darling Richard
I had a dream last night. One that I remembered when I woke up, that is. It was enough of a curiosity that I made an effort to commit it to memory before going back to sleep. Perhaps I should add, in case you've pictured me as a lazy-bones who doesn't like to get out of bed of a morning, that it was part way through the night when I woke.
It being a normal sort of dream, on recollecting the storyline after waking, there were many inconsistencies, which, of course, did not seem inconsistent while the dream was happening. The gist of it was this:
I was talking with Richard Dawkins, who seemed very at home in the basement study I used to own and occupy several years ago. In fact, so much at home that it appeared to be his. Part of our conversation was about blogging, the details of which escape me, but in the course of our discussion he kindly gave me a roll of cling film.
I feel I should point out that this was no ordinary roll of cling film. This roll came in a cartridge, with a plastic gear wheel attached to each end of the core of the roll, obviously designed to go in a very hi-tech dispenser (of which I knew nothing). As is often the case with dreams, it didn't seem strange that he should give me such an odd artifact.
I don't know what I did with his gift. It went 'out of focus' and played no further part in the story, which had already moved on to me offering to make coffee. He accepted my offer, and in response to my enquiry "how do you like it", he replied "black, white, third and dill".
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In the transission from basement study to kitchen, Richard morphed into a woman, who, it seemed, was my high-powered boss. I mentioned to her, as I began to prepare the coffee, that I understood what "black, white" meant (although the meaning is not at all clear to me now), but that I'd never heard the "third and dill" part, and would be grateful for enlightenment.
She explained that 'dill' meant 'very little milk', to which I said, "oh, I see, just a dash". She looked puzzled, and asked me what that meant, so I told her it meant 'very little milk'. She said, "oh, I see", after which we embarked on a discussion of the etymology of the word 'dash', and it's various meanings.
I woke up before finding out what "third" meant. Damn and blast!
I tend to think that dreams are what happens in our brains when we relax the stricter insistence on logic that we usually impose during our waking hours. Dreaming is just letting it all hang out, goin' with the flow, chillin', layin' back. Unless you can convince me otherwise?
