More Morning Notes.

In the dream last night I was lying in a double bed with a young woman, holding her close. She was asleep and I was stroking her long hair. I knew she was dreaming about somebody else, and I believed she would decide which way she wanted to go when she woke up. She didn’t, she just asked me to drive her to work. It was 6.30am and she apologised for bothering me so early. And then she became annoyed with me when I had trouble finding the car key. I think I’ve got a handle on that one.

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I love the way the sun marks the seasons. Only at this time of year does it:

Shine through the landing window and down the stairs, making a pool of light on the living room carpet.

Illuminate the whole of the right hand side of my favourite sycamore late in the day.

Cast the shadow of leaves and branches on the north wall of my living room at sunset.

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I like the Liverpudlian sense of humour. The term ‘butty’ is a British colloquialism for ‘sandwich’ and came from Liverpool originally. Back in the 70s, British police cars were painted white with a red stripe along the side. Liverpudlians called them ‘jam butty cars.’