Under The Desk

I dreamed I was in a bank or police station- facing a reception desk with two women behind it. I was dealing with the one on the left and the one on the right was just outside my range of vision. An arm appeared from under the desk between them and messed with the papers my clerk/officer was holding. "What's going on down there," I asked. And the woman to my right said, "That's where we keep the murders."

I looked over the desk and was shown a couple of large playing cards. They carried designs that looked floral but were actually made of minced beef.

Playing At House Hunting

I've just been listening to the silence. If we move to a town centre it's unlikely to ever be as quiet as this.

It was a cold damp morning and neither of us was feeling wonderful but we had errands to run and it was our day out so we got in the car, drove up to Rochester and poked around a bit.

The house I really want is in a gated community. I don't approve of gated communities but the house is the only one I've seen in Rochester that is fun as well as functional. I peered wistfully through the gates. There was a notice that said that if we tried to open them manually, they'd break. And I thought, "Don't tempt me!"

A house we liked on screen- which is now under offer turns out to be on a road that stretches for about a mile- and every inch of it uphill. We'd thought we might look out for others on the same road but having seen it- and considered what a slog it would be walking home from the town centre we've decided not to bother. At the foot of the hill is The Dickens Estate- with every street named after one of his characters. Fancy living on Havisham Close! Actually, on reflection, I'd rather like to. Think of all the variations one could work on the one basic joke!