Dream time

A trip by car to the Cherry Hinton Road area of Cambridge last night. The car being suspiciously like the white mini we owned forty years ago.

Driving around, for purpose unrevealed, and decided to try a road on the left, which rather irritated BH, and which turned out to lead into a council estate, not of the better sort. Not to worry I say, we are just looking and we are inside a car. After a while I turn the car around and we head out, to find that what was the road has turned into a muddy track, full of ruts and puddles. The world turns dark & murky. Suddenly the track becomes very steep (the road having been flat on the way in) and the cars heaves to a halt, axle deep in mud. We get out of the car to take a look round and walk a bit further up the track, to find ourselves standing on top of a very precarious looking sand cliff with the car stuck half way up it. The world has become very bright & sunny. But the least disturbance and the top of the cliff will fall down on and engulf the car. Just as well we were not inside it.

Just as well also that our valuables, wallets, telephones and so on, have mysteriously found their way to the top of the cliff and are lodged in a fissure, We get them out OK but the cliff is disturbed and the car is engulfed.

Cut to the dark & cold garage of my childhood home where I engage in the displacement activity (if that is the right term) of trying to tidy up my tools and materials, anything rather than have to grapple with getting the car out of its sandy tomb. In best Spanish fashion, that is put off until mañana. But the tools prove tricky too.

Instead of standing back and taking an overview, I rush at it and get into a terrible muddle. I keep changing my mind about how the tools - and associated nuts, bolts, screws and nails - should be organised into their boxes. I keep mixing things up - say old and new - which should not be mixed up. I can't decide whether to use the very old wooden boxes - small things, the size of the sort of box of biscuits you might give a friend for Christmas - or whether these boxes would be better junked, along with some of the old wood I have been keeping because it will come in handy one day, but which has now got damp, dusty, rotten and worm-eaten. In which last connection see reference 1.

Generally a throw back to the age-old problem of classifying a complex collection of complex objects in a tidy and satisfying way. See reference 2 for another example, a three volume hard copy of which I found at a Hook Road car booter and have been unable to relinquish ever since.

About this point I wake up.

Reference 1: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=71EH3g4C6wc - although a quick look would suggest a more knife ridden than worm eaten world.

Reference 2: http://discovery.nationalarchives.gov.uk/details/redirect/?CATID=3443395&CATLN=6&CATID=3443395&CATLN=6&accessmethod=5&j=1.

Reference 3: http://pumpkinstrokemarrow.blogspot.co.uk/search?q=codot. Clearly got something of a fixation on this one.