Tuesday 16 July 2019

Dreams good and bad

It's 6 a.m. and, since midsummer, my body has felt the need to wake at dawn. It's annoying since I'm someone who needs eight hours' sleep. Even though I'm awake - now, at 6 a.m, I don't want to be. I feel the need to get back under the covers.

Yesterday I woke at the same time, but had been dreaming about writing a short story. Character, plot, tension and resolution were all there. But within moments of waking, again at 6 a.m, I'd forgotten the details of my bestseller and felt infuriated for waking so early, still tired, but without my plot outline for the grandest piece of writing ever produced.

Today I've woken from a dream about seeing someone I used to know. In it I finally left that person, telling them what I thought of them. Which wasn't much. Also in the dream was my best friend from our school years, who, good as gold, came with my husband, to pick me up from a rainy, out-of-the-way railway station to take me home. My husband's smile told me all was well. And, after spending time with people I'm glad I no longer know, it was the smile I needed. So that's all good.

Strange the choices we make. But even stranger if the options we take at 18 don't get toppled as we age and grow. In our maturity we jettison people and ways of life which are no longer good for us. And find a better way of living - if we are given the chance to do so. Some people, living in repressive regimes, in abusive marriages, under exploitative employers, in modern-day slavery  or with over-domineering family members, don't have the choice to move out and move on. In my dislike of the current Tory government leadership nonsense I keep thinking I need to move to Edinburgh or south east  Eire. Just to get to the politics I more closely align myself with. I don't like Brexit and our recent Airbnb guests - many from overseas - think Brexit, coupled with Boris Johnson at the helm, is a grave mistake.  

Madly - for us - we have been flirting with listing one of our good-sized ensuite bedrooms on Airbnb. The room has its own kitchen too and has been recently upgraded and refurbished. During May this year we had so many bookings it became hard work, doing the change-overs, hanging out double duvets and ironing sheets. In June I slowed the pace by giving ourselves more days off and yet we were almost always fully booked. We've had 13 five-star reviews, largely down to our excellent cleaning lady and Richard's hospitality. So, within a matter of weeks, we have the badge 'superhosts'. But I use the word 'flirting' with purpose. We aren't convinced this is something we want to do. Whilst being awarded 'superhost' status seems great, we are tired. And we feel 'disrupted'. Richard wants his home back. But that's partly because, this week, he has to have an op under general anaesthetic and the thought of that is disturbing him. His sleep is poor owing to an upsurge in his tinnitus and he needs a few quiet weeks at home. So we've flirted with Airbnb and have enjoyed conversations with our appreciative visitors, but, domestically, it's demanding work. I'm so glad we have been described as having a 'spotlessly clean' space. To have been rated anything less would have been too awful to contemplate. But we'll have heart attacks trying to maintain such high standards! 

The weather is glorious, and has been for over three weeks, and the necessary extra washing dries fast. If we'd had guests during the wettest, coldest days in June, remember them? it would have been onerous drying everything in the tumble dryer or hanging double duvets on the plug-in airer. But for wash days we managed to avoid the rain. And we've had very charming, easy-going guests. We've been very lucky. But - as in my dream last night - there's a time to say goodbye, count your blessings and move on. 

We haven't been able to book a holiday for ourselves as Richard is going into hospital but we both feel the need for a break. Is that why I woke early, coming out of a dream about breaking with the past? The need to have a change, to get away from the strain of waiting for hospital dates, treatments and to simply have a good night's sleep?

I shudder when I think about my dream. Already images are fading, and like the plot, characters and jeopardy in my previous night's dream, the details have already gone. Goodbye to all that. Time to move on. Life is what you make it. When the hospital appointment is over we'll go away, feel refreshed and be glad we've made the right choices, can bat away the bad dreams and live our lives.

Sent from my ipad