Frosty

[poliphilo]

I dreamed I was editing a collection of writings about spirituality. George Harrison had written something for me that was hopelessly feeble and incoherent- which he told me was his masterpiece. "Very nice" I said. He picked up on my lack of enthusiasm and I had to spend the rest of the dream trying to salve his ego and rebuild our friendship.

In another dream our house in Oldham was being used as a mustering point for conscripts in whatever war we happened to be fighting at the time. I found it inconvenient. Out back a couple of women were cage-fighting and an apartment was burning.

Yesterday morning was frosty, this morning is frostier.