To The Surrey Hills And Back Again

[poliphilo]

I like the Surrey Hills. I can see why the Victorians wanted to fit a family mansion into every bosky nook and cranny.

Dunsfold has an early English church. Simon Jenkins gives it two stars. In the valley below is a holy well- not much visited by the look of things- where the water has a chemical composition similar to the water at Lourdes.

We had a nice meal in a gastro pub for which we paid Surrey Hills prices....

We called in on my mother in her Care Home. I don't think she knew who any of us were.

On our way home we took a wrong turning, took the advice of our sat-nav and found ourselves on a wiggly lane with flood waters at the bottom and had to retrace our route.

I coughed a lot during the day. I continued coughing into the night.

The dreams were vivid. In one of them an old friend was being pestered by a husband she wanted to divorce so I killed him with my bare hands. I then had to commit another two murders to cover my tracks.

Comments

[poliphilo]

I've never come across onion milk. I think I may try to keep things that way.

The dream wasn't particularly emotive- or realistic. It wasn't nightmarish. I seem to remember that I sort of tore my victims up- as though they were made of paper or thin plastic.