I think I’ve been a bit miserable lately 😉
Today, I’m feeling rather chirpy!
Thank feck!, I hear you cry.
Had a weird dream last night. It’s a dream I’ve been having since I was a child, but I have no idea why I keep having it.
I’m in the beautiful little “typical” English village – I’ve never been to. You know the type – all thatched cottages, rolling village green, lots of colourful flowers, chaps playing cricket whites sparkling in the sun, birds tweeting merrily. The sky’s blue with the odd little fluffy, sheep-like cloud. The sun is shining and it’s a warm and happy day. I’m having a picnic on the village green with my friends, The Wombles………..
Wombles, in case you didn’t know, are large, furry, foraging creatures that live only in burrows on Wimbledon Common. They spend most of their time, wombling around, looking for junk on the common – “the stuff that the everyday folks leave behind” and man, do they make good use of it – the UK’s first role models for recycling.
Anyway, back to my picnic. The sun is shining and the Wombles and I are sitting on a huge travel rug (a remarkable rug too – it’s soft and comfortable rather than thin and scratchy!) on the village green, soaking up the sun and enjoying a picnic worthy of the Famous Five (clotted cream and scones, sandwiches, homemade lemonade etc etc.).
Tobermory asks if they might go for a ride in my car with me. Of course, this sounds fun and I love showing off my car – an old (less so at the time I started having this dream!) VW Beetle. A bright violet colour with pretty, bright coloured flowers painted all over it (I’ve wanted this car since I was about 6 and I’m still waiting!).
So off we go. Me driving and Tobermory beside me – and about 8 other Wombles stuffed in the back, hanging out of the windows and the sunroof (wow, in 1976 a sunroof was sheer luxury!) Fitting all the Wombles in was quite a feat – they’re quite tall you see, and have very thick fur.
Eventually we’re all in and ready to go. We drive happily along the country lanes, not rushing, taking it slow. Enjoying the afternoon sun and the beautiful scenery of the English countryside. Singing Wombles songs (“underground, overground, wombling free * the Wombles of Wimbledon Common are we * Making good use of the things that we find * the things that the everyday folk leave behind” “Remember you’re a Womble * Remember you’re a Womble * Remember-member-member what a Womble Womble Womble you are”) and generally having tons of fun.
Then suddenly we’re back by the village green and the Beetle is out of control and we’re hurtling towards the duck pond at full speed! And I, even now aged 36, am TERRIFIED! Oh my god, I’m about to die! And I’m about to take the Wombles with me! I’m so terrified I have that semi-conscious, sanity preserving “You’re asleep wake up WAKE UP NOW!” thing going on, trying to drag myself out of the dream quickly before I have to suffer the finality of the car dunking into the pond!
wtf is that all about then? 🙂