03 June, 2013
Back at old house in Belton street (had bought it again)....Side fence had been removed, gravelÂ path replaced with concrete. Very dry grass, a bit unkempt. Retaining wall at front made from Bessel blocks added which I didn't like....SomethingÂ about tree at front - grown tooÂ large? Tangled in wires? My mother sweeping up - noticed she had swept in front of retaining wall....Up the side (between my house and nextÂ door) was grass lane way, a couple of cars zoomed down it, which annoyed me. Then a motorbike which wobbled a bit, running over the edge of the lane, and then fell over. It was an older Japanese bike, and the rider seemed large, wearing a grey jacket, workmanlike rather than sharp or glamorous...Ran to where the bike had crashed with some other people and, when they took their helmet off, theÂ rider turned out to be Olivia from TIO. She was groggy, maybe concussed & I invited her to lie down inside. In front room there was a couch similar to theÂ old green one I used to have which folded into aÂ bed. In the dream, thisÂ folded into a narrowÂ bed at right-angles to theÂ direction of couch, which seemed strange.Â Olivia lay down on the bed, but I was vaguely worried that you shouldn't go to sleep with concussion because you might not wake up....Then I went outside again and began to notice that it was as ifÂ a lot of the work I had previously done to the house hadn't happened. Things that I had repaired, like down pipes,Â weren't fixed. Construction I had done was back the way it was before. But particularly the painting I had done - the walls were still the old cream and patchyÂ rather than maroon....I couldn't understand this (how had the last owners removed or changed the work I had done?)Â and tried to convey the mystery to a woman who I had lived there with before - she was a combination of Julie-Ann and Kath maybe, but not really like either of them. She either didn't believe me or didn't think it was important, which made me angry as I kept trying to get her to take me seriously....Then I was in the garage at my parents' house where I grew up, trying to convince someone (John K from the ACMA?) connected with the mediaÂ about the significance of the fact that renovation work I had done was now not done. It was as though this was a mysterious or unexplained phenomenon.