(no subject)
I never dream particularly (or at least, not that I remember). So I had this oddly vivid dream last night that sort of seems worth mentioning if only because of that.
I was in France (Paris, I think) with my mum at a clothes shop. At some point the shop suddenly also sold groceries. I bought a cardigan and a bag of bonbons. When I went to the till to pay, I didn't agree with the price, so I demanded to see the calculations. They were written on newsprint. I had to do the adding manually with a pencil. I went over the calculations two or three times, but it was all ok. There were a lot of quite complex calculations to do, even though I only bought two things.
When we left the shop, we walked up a hill, and there was this really fancy lookin' old building. I told Mum that we should go and see what it was. I went and asked someone, who explained that in olden times (white-wig wearing olden times) if someone had a debt to pay, the could opt to 'run the pitch' which was this thing where the person with the debt raced against ten fit young dudes from the town (who were all dressed in blue) down to the bottom of the hill & back up again. At the same time, a bucket of tar (hence running the pitch) was tipped out down the hill - that was significant somehow, but I never worked out why.
If the person with the debt beat any of the young men back up the hill, the debt was wiped, but if they couldn't get back before the young men, they had to stand in a tar pit at least up to their waist for a week.
The tradition still seemed to be happening, because when I went into the building (which was kinda like a grandstand, but with tubs full of tar in the middle of it instead of seats), there was a bunch of people there standing in the tar. They all seemed really happy to be there, and there were ladies bringing them food and being all friendly like and stuff.
Then I woke up.
Maybe it's a good thing I don't ordinarily remember my dreams - it doesn't seem anywhere near as whacky on paper as it did in my head.
I was in France (Paris, I think) with my mum at a clothes shop. At some point the shop suddenly also sold groceries. I bought a cardigan and a bag of bonbons. When I went to the till to pay, I didn't agree with the price, so I demanded to see the calculations. They were written on newsprint. I had to do the adding manually with a pencil. I went over the calculations two or three times, but it was all ok. There were a lot of quite complex calculations to do, even though I only bought two things.
When we left the shop, we walked up a hill, and there was this really fancy lookin' old building. I told Mum that we should go and see what it was. I went and asked someone, who explained that in olden times (white-wig wearing olden times) if someone had a debt to pay, the could opt to 'run the pitch' which was this thing where the person with the debt raced against ten fit young dudes from the town (who were all dressed in blue) down to the bottom of the hill & back up again. At the same time, a bucket of tar (hence running the pitch) was tipped out down the hill - that was significant somehow, but I never worked out why.
If the person with the debt beat any of the young men back up the hill, the debt was wiped, but if they couldn't get back before the young men, they had to stand in a tar pit at least up to their waist for a week.
The tradition still seemed to be happening, because when I went into the building (which was kinda like a grandstand, but with tubs full of tar in the middle of it instead of seats), there was a bunch of people there standing in the tar. They all seemed really happy to be there, and there were ladies bringing them food and being all friendly like and stuff.
Then I woke up.
Maybe it's a good thing I don't ordinarily remember my dreams - it doesn't seem anywhere near as whacky on paper as it did in my head.