11/2/10

Quite an action packed dream this was. It started in a shopping centre. I was with John from work. We were in the centre of Oxford. Then we leave the centre of Oxford in a few steps. We end up on a hill in the dark outside a farm. There are firemen all around and they are trying to put out a fire in the farmhouse. It isn’t however a fire that is going to be put out, as out of the garage rolls a viscous iridescent fluid. It is slow and gelatinous at first and not too hot, as a fireman puts his foot down on the mass. But suddenly it flares into full on red/orange very fluid lava. We all run away from it and again end up in the shopping centre in Oxford. There I meet Roger (my boss) and Gareth from work. We run through the shopping centre and turn left. I don’t see John after this so he must have gone right. We pass through an alley on a hill. There are little cottages and houses and go into and through a hotel. We are being followed by others in a long ragged line we have to go along this corridor – chased by this lava and just staying ahead of it. We have to cross a stream channel before the lava enters it. We cross and get out of the hotel in front of the lava which roars past us in the channel lake a raging river trapped within it’s banks. We run outside and across a field. We end up climbing another hill with trees and stuff. But we know we need to go higher up this hill because the lava can get over it. We go down the other side as the lava lights up the sky behind us. We pass through another field and then have to cross a stream and climb the bank (covered with thorn trees). It’s getting light now so must be dawn. For some reason we are all carrying rubbish bags filled with something that we leave on the bank At least some of us make it to this side of the stream before the lava chasing us catches up. But we are safe on this side of the river. When it has flowed past and all is safe we head back to the hotel, along the hallways and along the narrow way we went to cross the channel. Everything is smoky and singed and it is now daylight. I pass through ahead of my companions (a woman and two young girls) and into the courtyard with the small cottages. I am looking through one of the windows into a quaintly decorated room where two little old ladies live when some man points a gun at me – I distinctly hear the click that arms it. They are looters. I don’t remember much past the little old ladies cottage, except that there was a car and a canal, and something burning.

4/10/09

I was in a school group. We were queuing waiting for a teacher in what looked like Wallingford town centre. There were a lot of people around and I distinctly remember being part of a conversation discussing a pretty girl with light brown hair and grey-blue eyes. She was apparently dating a much older man, and was much too young to be (though she definitely looked about 15/16) I get the impression she was a few years younger.

Then our teacher arrives. He is a history teacher and leads us through the door we are waiting outside. The room inside is white, has stone walls (white painted onto the stone and not onto smooth plaster) and the chairs and tables are also old fashioned. I sit next to the row of windows which are on the right. He takes us through a history class and I do ok, then out next teacher turns up.

We go for a walk and end up in a short amount of time by the coast (looks like Tenby on a cliff but the beach below looks like Barafundle/Manorbier/Bosherston. We are standing on a road cutting halfway up a cliff with a lovely view of the valley, beach and harbour on the other side and down the valley. In front (and to the side) of us are little cottages and another on a rock that looks like it has half broken off the cliff but stopped before it has completely separated (so there is a drop to get to the building on it) She tells us what our assignment is. We are to do parts of a ‘tapestry’. We are told to choose our accommodation and I get one that is on the other side of a ditch (crossed by a narrow pipe/gantry).

The others are in separate buildings that hug the cliff on the row that is on the other side of the ditch. I make a comment that I meant the history teacher to answer and a boy resembling Andy at work rips into me, and says some really vicious things. I withdraw into my ‘house’. It’s sparsely furnished a mostly sheer grey rock and whitewash. There are AMAZING views of the cliffs on the other side of the valley. There were lots of trees and red brick buildings. One has a stone spire. Then I go to the most unusual window – a sweep that curves down and in like a wave – the view is AMAZING – I can see down to the sea. There are white beluga whales and the water it is so clear and blue, tropical colours, and reddish brown rock pools etc. Then I find my assignment and take it back outside where there is a better view. The assignment is a cross stitch of a hillside view. I do it quickly. I am the first to complete my assignment. The teacher comes up and tells me it has been done VERY well. We have a bit of a conversation, which calms me down from the put down I got earlier.