Pyewackett returned from the Other Side to visit in a dream last night. A strange (aren't all dreams strange), convulated, and so so Busy dream. Seemed to go on and on with no progress. So here goes. I was in the American West somewhere. I was with a couple. They were newly married, on their honeymoon in fact but I had a history with the man, a David Schwimmer type (looks, not personality ie Friends personality). Richard was somewhere else. I missed him and wanted to be with him but was stuck *finishing* things with this man. She was blonde and had little to do with the dream story. We were at a motel in the middle of nowhere. This motel had a parking lot as large as a small country. Finding a parking spot within sight of the motel was a distinct advantage. It always seemed to be nighttime in the parking lot. I had a room to myself (hard to write, Debussy's Afternoon of a Faun on which distracts with it's perennial beauty). To eat one had to talk into one of those drive through intercoms. The food on offer was all junk; meaty, fried and horrid. There was nothing that I could eat. Thought perhaps I'd take my car-cum-motorcycle into the distant town and find something. A man accosted me while I was astride my bike, said it, a GB, was a very bad brand. He was officious, insulting and nosy. What I drove was none of his business. Told him I didn't eat meat or dairy either. Did he have something to say about that? (Know what character that dream person was based upon. Riding my bike a few days ago down the middle of DGR. Didn't hear approaching traffic because of the wind through the webbing of the bike helmet. This male person lay on his horn and stayed there. A polite bip bip would've been appropriate. I was so startled I pulled over to the right. No vehicle. I pulled onto the verge, not a great idea when on racing tyres. Still no vehicle. Finally a man pulled up beside me, said I should be on the left. True, of course but then logical thinking disappears when a loud noise erupts right behind one. Anyway, he pulled off. I stayed on the right just so if he looked in the rear view he'd see me. Petty, I know. Yesterday, while walking the dogs with Richard, he drove past and beeped the horn, long lazy beeps, not friendly taps. So that's why there was a short grey-haired man insulting my choice of vehicle in a dream parking lot).

Then there is Pyewackett in the snow. Sitting there, refusing to move, even though I have flattened a track for her. I think she's been lost and I'm very glad to find her again. Bring her into my room. I have a large shopping bag, with handles. Put towels inside and place Pyewackett on them. Ah, she thinks a toilet and proceeds to urinate. I'm not quick enough and some of it leaks onto the floor covering. So have to wash it before the landlady finds out. There is a small machine in the room. Wash them but find they still smell of urine so decide to do them in the machine on my bike (where the petrol tank would be).

Meanwhile I so want to finish the business with this dark-haired man. I kiss him. He pulls back. Is it the cigarettes, I ask. Yes. I've been smoking again and will quit when I return to Richard. Open my mouth (or his mouth) and see yellow-orange mucous clogging up the back of the throat.

And that's it. The dream remains vivid. Why I don't know. Sometimes I wake up knowing I've had a significant dream and can recall nothing. I'm only recording this dream, dull as it is, because it insisted on being remembered.