flashback

Last night I was dreaming.
I dreamed about a field full of Christmas trees, young trees, not fully grown.
Bob Hill was there in a wheelchair, he still had aphasia, but he was smiling and he made it clear he understood what I had said and it was all OK.

This morning started with me trying to find a black bag for the rubbish as it is bin day. The landlord didn't know anything about bin day here and it is a different system, so I had to gather from the black bags out in the street and the seagulls, that it is bin day, and I had to scramble to get a black bag of house move debris out there before the bin men.

Then I went to get Max off the cliff, where he was watching the sea and dreaming. A dog had peed on his wheel, which isn't very nice.
I realised as I sat on the cliff, that Max sitting there looked just like Anna sitting at the viewpoint in St. Martin. Same car, different colour, different cliff. But so like a flashback.
I am having a lot of flashbacks recently.

It is a grey rainy day, the wind has dropped a bit but the sea is still troubled.