Hail To The Chief Coffee Spiller



We all seem to be drawing imaginary islands this weekend. I'm not sure where the idea came from but the note book already has three complete islands and youngest is trying his own versions out on separate pieces of paper. I'm thinking of calling my Gill Sans for obvious reasons. Youngest desperately needs a nickname though the reason for the fleeting thought that I might call him "Bomber Command" is lost on me - he's not that destructive. Might have been a dream of some sort. I have been having loads of dreams recently which is odd because it is usually the change in the clocks which makes me have to get up in the middle of REM sleep. I was the stage manager for The Rolling Stones the other night - trying to get them to start playing on time and generally being ace at everything - which is quite weird isn't it? But aren't all dreams weird? If dreams are supposed to be something to do with daytime worries why do we seem to dream of magical things - flying and being famous?

Lots of good things to look forward to at work this week though how sad am I for that? Though one of them is retrospective support for something that should have been retired about the time of the second Stone Roses album. Remix, Remake, Remodel - ever onwards.