Strange dream.

How strange to find that this picture was taken a year ago, Margaret and her husband, Pete were in Devon and I met up with them in Plymouth city centre.

I was awake at 5 - 5:30 am this morning as I couldn't sleep. I eventually managed to get back to sleep only to have a lovely dream about my friend Margaret. She is very poorly at the moment.

I dreamt we had a long conversation about life in general and at one point she was wrapped very tightly in a patchwork blanket, red and blue come to mind when I think of it. She couldn't move her hands or legs. She looked like one of those little russian dolls. She had a matching bandana style scarf on her head.

The strangest part was she was smaller, about 2 ft and fitted inside a cream cake box (?) I found it difficult to hear what she was saying as I couldn't hear her through the cellophane. She seemed to be troubled about being sedated.

At one point we were talking, there were lots of people around mingling and chatting. It was very much like a busy art gallery or get together but no common subject for being there. The Dr was sat out on carpeted stairs in a passage way (the kind we all have in our homes) with a man who I got the impression was related to Margaret. She was very agitated that the Dr was talking to this man and not her. She asked me to tell the Dr to come and speak to her which I did. Margaret was definitely in control about what was happening to her. Why the cream cake box though? It was the size of a banana box that are found in super markets.

A very strange dream. I rang Margaret a couple of days ago, she is out of hospital, her sister answered and said she was sleeping. I asked her to pass on my love to her.

Thinking of you Margaret, my lovely friend x x x x

( I rang Margaret this morning to see how she was. Pete, Margaret's husband, said she asked to call me this morning, how spooky!!)

After having the dream about Margaret I have another one which I have just remembered.

I find myself by the sea, on a road next to a field.... confusing I know.

The field is Ermington cemetery in Ivybridge, Devon, it's the cemetery where my grandparents are laid to rest. Instead of there being a grave yard, it is an open filed, very misty. I am standing on the road next to the field with waves lapping up against the tar mac.

I am standing still and just having a slow look around, I can see beautiful green grass and a very dark blue sky enveloped in a thick mist. I had a feeling of peacefulness.