Of Dreams and Dylan Thomas: the power and mystery of words

In contrast to yesterday, today has been altogether a more productive, enjoyable kind of day. It began with a bit of read in bed this morning, which included a spot of dream reading. Now, does anyone else ever dream read. Dream reading is when you are there reading, your book in front of you, working your way through the story/text just like you do albeit with varying levels of sense… and then you wake up. You realise, that you’ve dozed off and when you try and find your place you find the words on the page are completely different. It is a weird, confusing occurence though!! Does anyone else experience this? No? Just me, then. Me and my weird brain…

Nice, relaxing breakfast, and then I set to cleaning out the animals in the sunshine whilst listening to last week’s Desert Island Discs with Blue Peter editor Biddy Baxter. I made lemonade from the kit that the Shaw’s gave me for Christmas and I finally got round to writing my review of Time Was Soft There which Helen gave me for my birthday. I mention this last act particularly because I wrote the review on my laptop, which whilst still being a little slow to open things (it is 4½ years old though!) was accessing the old t’internet with some degree of speed expected of it. Maybe whatever it was I did succeed in doing yesterday worked?

I’ve earthed up the potatoes this afternoon too, and read lots more of my book during the heat of the day – well I sure as hell ain’t getting hot and sticky vacumning when its already hot and sticky! Then I made dinner of mashed fish (really this is a dish that is a lot tastier than the name might suggest – I seem to have quite a few recipes in my repetoire that seem to fall into this category) and then we settled down to watch the new production of Dylan Thomas’ Under Milk Wood with an all-star, mostly Welsh cast. It was very interesting done, briliantly made in a way that completely highlighted the power of Dylan Thomas’ words…. but they cut it! It was only about an hour long which means they actually cut at least half an hour, maybe more. I would love to have seen this version but complete. Oh, why BBC, why did you deprive us so.

And now I’ve caught up with writing about my weekend in these pages. I used to write about my daily goings on so much more regularly than of late. I need to get back into the habit of it.