First weird dream of the year!
This didn't take long.
It was Poldark weekend on Channel 11, our local PBS station. This was partly because it's pledge drive time (I keep wanting to call it "sweeps") and the 50th anniversary of Masterpiece, so they had a Poldark marathon. Dad watches that on Saturday nights a lot of the time, and I've caught some episodes, so more often than not dad watched the marathon over the past few days. Truth be told, I had it on for a bit too. What can I say; Poldark's kinda hot.
The show takes place after the Revolutionary War; Poldark was a soldier who fought in it, then returned to Cornwall, so it's the 1780s to start. There's a part of me fascinated with times of yore. Plus, it's a bit of a soap opera. I'm not entirely up on who all is who, or what the relationships are, but I don't mind sitting and watching it.
And, apparently, dreaming about it. It starts off in Poldark's time. I'm with another girl and we are waiting for a carriage to pick us up and take us somewhere. There are these larger coaches that come by, which almost look like a horse-drawn train car or a trolley since they're kind of long, but those aren't what we want. We end up in this small, open rig with a woman driver; she doesn't say anything to us. It also doesn't look big enough to fit three of us, but we get in and we start riding off.
Suddenly it's winter and snowy and cold--we're in Siberia. A blanket appears for us to put around our legs and apparently that's enough to keep us warm. Just as suddenly, we're in modern day, and we're dropped off at this, like, Russian fast-food place that sort of looks like a gas station on the outside. I've heard of it, which is even more bizarre. We walk in and we're able to just grab any open seat, so we walk around for a while before finding a booth or something. A guy already there with his kids, at a nearby table, tells us we have to write down our orders, likely because the waitstaff is Russian and we speak English, though they're able to understand written English just fine. The dream ended before I ordered any food. ...No, I don't know what any of this means.
It was Poldark weekend on Channel 11, our local PBS station. This was partly because it's pledge drive time (I keep wanting to call it "sweeps") and the 50th anniversary of Masterpiece, so they had a Poldark marathon. Dad watches that on Saturday nights a lot of the time, and I've caught some episodes, so more often than not dad watched the marathon over the past few days. Truth be told, I had it on for a bit too. What can I say; Poldark's kinda hot.
The show takes place after the Revolutionary War; Poldark was a soldier who fought in it, then returned to Cornwall, so it's the 1780s to start. There's a part of me fascinated with times of yore. Plus, it's a bit of a soap opera. I'm not entirely up on who all is who, or what the relationships are, but I don't mind sitting and watching it.
And, apparently, dreaming about it. It starts off in Poldark's time. I'm with another girl and we are waiting for a carriage to pick us up and take us somewhere. There are these larger coaches that come by, which almost look like a horse-drawn train car or a trolley since they're kind of long, but those aren't what we want. We end up in this small, open rig with a woman driver; she doesn't say anything to us. It also doesn't look big enough to fit three of us, but we get in and we start riding off.
Suddenly it's winter and snowy and cold--we're in Siberia. A blanket appears for us to put around our legs and apparently that's enough to keep us warm. Just as suddenly, we're in modern day, and we're dropped off at this, like, Russian fast-food place that sort of looks like a gas station on the outside. I've heard of it, which is even more bizarre. We walk in and we're able to just grab any open seat, so we walk around for a while before finding a booth or something. A guy already there with his kids, at a nearby table, tells us we have to write down our orders, likely because the waitstaff is Russian and we speak English, though they're able to understand written English just fine. The dream ended before I ordered any food. ...No, I don't know what any of this means.