As with every Monday, Mr. Gning stays at my parents house for a ‘change of scenery’, and to bring a little bit (more) noise to their house. I say ‘more’, because I can hardly say they live in a quiet house.
Mum likes to watch her TV, but dad. Dad is another matter all together, ha ha. He likes the TV loud, his CD’s/Mp3’s loud, his amplifier to his guitar loud, his keyboard loud, his speakers on the PC loud… I think you can safely assume that he likes things loud. And no… He doesn’t suffer with his hearing.
I’m the same though. I like my music ‘blaring’ out of the speakers; sometimes as loud as I can get it. Especially if it is a song that I love; or if a bagpipe piece comes on. Yes. Bagpipes. I still get goosebumps when I hear the ‘Massed Pipes and Drums’ at the Edinburgh Military Tattoo, and when I hear Highland Cathedral played, my heart melts.
So, we have a cupboard, in the kitchen, that is LOADED with booze.
(No, this isn’t my cupboard.. Although that would be nice, haha)
You see, we have bottles of wine, Martini (Rosso), Bacardi, etc. bought for us for Christmas and birthdays, however we don’t drink. Normally.
I say normally, because I cannot say that we never drink. We drink ‘sometimes’ at birthday parties. Maybe at Christmas, we’ll have one or two glasses of whatever at Christmas. Occasionally, like two or three times a year(!), we have something at home… But when we have something at home, we always make the most of it. Like last night. We drank a full litre bottle of Martini Rosso between us. Probably not such a good idea, but it was at the time.
(Remember… Drink responsibly!!)
The worst thing about me is that I drink the aforesaid like wine. Fill my glass up to the brim..!
Let’s not digress any further. This post is actually about my dream last night. Or would I call it a nightmare..?
So, as soon as my head hit the pillow last night, I was gone.
There was the three of us in my dream. The little man, hubby and myself… We were all in the very first house I lived in, and for some reason, there were people ‘after us’. These people were no good, and we knew we would have no chance in surviving should they ever catch up with us. I don’t know what we had done for these people to be hunting us.
We knew that we would never be able to return to the house once we left, so we were in the process of stuffing as many things as we possibly could in to every ‘secure’ bag we could find.
At this point, hubby had rushed out with some bags to the car. Little man had followed suit, which I had wanted, as I was finding it incredibly difficult for him to stay quiet.
I had just finished stuffing, and zipping up a grey backpack, and I found my black ‘Gothic’ trolley bag (both bags, I actually own). There was still plenty of room in the black bag, so I went to pick it up when…
Knock, knock, knock, knock…
I froze… My eyes wandered, but I didn’t move a muscle. Silence. No one kicking at the door, no footsteps… I didn’t hear anything, so I picked up the bag…
Knock, knock, knock, knock…
I snapped wide awake as hubby jumped out of bed. The knocks were real.
I thought it was the postman, but hubby said it was some *travellers* asking if we wanted our hedges trimming.
That was it. I was now wide awake, and even though I was in the comfort of my own bed, I didn’t feel right. I was actually afraid.
It’s been quite a while since I’ve had a bad dream, but even saying that, this was so ‘real’. Whenever I normally have a bad dream, it has monsters… The type of things that you would expect, but I have no idea what brought this on. Maybe it was the alcohol..? But every dream has a psychological meaning, huh? I’d be interested to hear if anyone can interpret my (not so nice) dream.
((PS// No headache/hangover, haha))