I had an odd dream last night that involved some Nigerian guys (so specified by my housemate, who was telling me all of this in the dream) coming to the door of the house at 3AM, telling my housemate that they were here to do work for our caretaker, then stealing the showertray and sink in our bathroom.

If chalumeaus pop up in this opera you know what to do.

I should have the set before long so it doesn't matter!

Saturday night. Went to bed early (11pm, highly unusual for me), woken around 5am by a phone call, went back to sleep. Result: lots of dreams remembered or half-remembered. Here's the best one, though some of the finer details are now a bit hazy:

I usually go home to my parents' at Christmas, and sometimes there are presents waiting for me there from various aunts and uncles as well as from my parents and sister. In the dream there were 3 unexpected presents, all from Stockhausen - a CD (I don't remember which exactly), a signed score, and a card. A message to the effect that although he might be expected not to appreciate certain comments I'd made about him and his work, he was actually very pleased and wanted to be friends. (I never said my subconscious was modest now, did I. )

What's strange is that this was the first thing I remembered on waking up, but by mid-morning I managed to listen to the whole of Inori and then have a long phone conversation with a friend about it without remembering the dream at all until my friend suggested I write to Stockhausen about something and it all suddenly came back to me.

Well, mine was a different kettle of fish.....

It starts mundanely, but goes a bit weird.

I was walking along a suburban street, close to where I grew up.  Another street formed a t-junction with the street I was on, with mine being the horizontal bit of the T.  As I passed the junction, an old man was walking toward me on the other street.

Because he saw me, this triggered his detection mechanism, and his head started to become purple and his clothes green.  He also became younger and started running toward me.  The fact he had seen me meant he had turned into Ming the Merciless, and recognised me as Flash Gordon!  (OK, OK, in my dream his colours were reversed, I know....)

In my new guise as Flash Gordon, I ran away and with Ming in a different road from me, there was s period he lost sight of me.  I hid behind a bush, so he couldn't see me and his detection mechanism would stop.  Peeking from behind the bush I could see Ming now waiting for a bus, gradually turning back to an old man, but still searching for me.

I then ran away to my home in Squirrel's Avenue, which is apparently where Flash Gordon lives.

Tommo

And i thought my dreams were weird!
Mind you, I dreamt the other night that people around me were reading a book and, when they got to a certain page, their left hand caught fire and burned down to the stump.  The book was passed to me and I got to that page and my hand caught fire but only burned for about 10 seconds and then went out.  All I remember thinking was "oh good, I can still play the piano"   

Ah, now we know that Richard is really Andrew Lloyd Webber in disguise.

(Fans of "Kit and the Widow" will understand....)

Tommo

Inextinguishable.