Charles Dickens referred to the meal delivered to Old Sol and his nephew in Dombey and Son by the nearby tavern as ‘the entertainment’. I dreamt of such an entertainment last night. It was something my mother was hosting and I was helping to serve the vegetables. I had a huge platter in my hand of an assortment of carrots and greens and was taking it around the table, under my mother’s guidance. However, there clearly wasn’t enough and she seemed uncertain, unusually, as how to manage the deficit. I saw M and was about to give her some when she asked if she could have some from the other plate with the ‘chilli foam.’ I looked around the room and saw that there were more and more trestle tables of people all waiting to be fed. Shall I put some more vegetables to cook? I asked my mother, suggesting sweet corn, peas and broad beans (even in my dream I knew that I had some in the freezer – but would it be sufficient ?). She acquiesced and I went to set them boiling but was faced with too much of a choice of pans to use. There were huge kettles, jam boilers – all copper and shining – some hanging some on shelves beneath. I woke before a decision was made. Was it a dream about nourishing all those parts of myself that are hungry for sustenance, perhaps?
The coffee shop opened an hour later so we walked instead and got drenched. And I threw a mini-wobbly because my drawing was so bad. He told me in the kindest way to get a grip and not indulge myself. I tried and it improved a bit. So much change, even in our little world. Must just keep steady. More rain today.
