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As I was walking into the centre of Cardiff on Saturday, I stepped off the curb outside St Andrew's church and almost trod right on this little guy...

He was lying in the gutter, wet from the standing rainwater and half-matted with leaves shaken down by the previous night's blustering storm. I couldn't leave him there, so I picked him up and popped him in my bag, thinking I'd consider later what I could do with him.

Then I went about my weekend and forgot about the little guy until I just pulled him out of my bag.

A colleague of mine said I should send him to the local newspaper, see if they'll print it so he can find his family again. I think I might scan him and send him to the Lost Photo Gallery but he's unlikely to find his way home from there.

Maybe I was just meant to find him and look after him. Who knows? I'm starting to imagine where he is now and how come an old photo of him in his school uniform against a very seventies backdrop of cork-tiled walls came to end up in a gutter in the suburbs of Cardiff. Did the adult him own the photograph and decide he didn't want this picture of his young self any more? What if something awful happened to him and this piece of his childhood fluttered out of a box carried by someone clearing out his house? Maybe he did live in someone's wallet and somehow he slipped out and ended up being trampled by shoppers on their way to town on a brisk Hallow'een day.

For now, I'll just keep him in my wallet. Which is kind of odd. I don't even have a picture of my nearest and dearest in my wallet, so to be carrying round a photo that looks some thirty years old of a person I don't know is probably strange. I just feel kind of compelled to look after him. I dunno.


Oct. 7th, 2009 08:43 am
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This week, early morning music in my mind seems to have been replaced with remembered dreams. Very, very strange dreams involving well-known people1.

Monday night saw me dream two things: firstly I dreamt that I was sitting in my usual chair in the lounge when my mobile rang and it was [ profile] terraswrath. We chatted for about ten minutes about something I can't recall and that's all I remember. It was one of those ultra-realistic dreams where I was quite convinced it had actually happened, then when I switched my phone on in the morning, I had a text from [ profile] terraswrath at about 0030hrs telling me that if she weren't in a room full of people trying to sleep she would have called me. I mentioned the dream co-incidence to [ profile] licklepickle yesterday and she reassured me that it was just a glitch in The Matrix :p

After the very mundane, realistic dream, my brain switched to one where Mr G and I were walking down seafront at Porthcawl - a tacky seaside resort close to where we live. It wasn't just us, but for some reason Zane Lowe was with us too. Except whilst we were dressed in jeans or something, Zane was wearing a pair of swimming shorts and kept diving into the water. I think I can blame a combination of my recent joint fic efforts with [ profile] licklepickle and the fact I read a Tweet from Zane saying he was stuck on a train to Swansea before I went to bed.

I've cut this dream because even though it wasn't distressing for me it involves disembowelment of sorts so it might be icky for others )

Then the sweet one had Rufus Hound flirting with me and offering to walk me home from somewhere [no idea where], with Mr G winking at me as Rufus and I walked off together and he delivered me back to my flat in a London tower block with doors that opened to an outdoor balcony like in a skanky motel [I live in a big old house in semi-rural Wales...] and kissing me on the cheek before taking his leave. I remember his beard tickled me as he kissed me. And I'm sure that'll serve me right for watching Argumental before bed, but I'm rather glad it was Rufus who popped up in the dream and not Marcus Brigstocke.

So all in all, very strange indeed. The good thing about it is that I'm clearly sleeping enough to dream, so hurrah for that.

1Well known if you're me, or into British comedy, or watch MTV UK, or listen to Radio 1
filthgoblin: (Default)
We have a new vacuum cleaner, called Henry. No really. That's what he's called. For those who've never met Henry, he looks like this:

I had more fun than should be possible last night cleaning the cat hair off the stair carpet with my new friend Henry. He also made the carpet in the spare bedroom look somewhere near presentable given it's about 20 years old and about as threadbare as a carpet can be without falling apart completely.

I was also amused to find, whilst I was cleaning in the spare room ready for the arrival of Mr G's dad this evening, a magazine that had gone missing from the bathroom a couple of weeks ago. I get Scarlet, which is a monthly mag of toy reviews, kink discussions and what they call "Cliterature", and when it's in I tend to read it in the bath. I remembered leaving it on the windowsill and was perplexed I'd been unable to find. When I discovered it pushed under the spare bed, I realised the last time I'd seen it was before we went to North Wales. And when we were in North Wales, my cousin and her fiance came to stay in our house and slept in the spare bed. I smiled to myself and wondered whether it provided them with any inspiration whilst we were allowing the free run of our house to get some respite from the tiny cramped space they're currently sharing with my aunt and uncle ;)

This morning also provided mind music. Today it was this:

filthgoblin: (Default)
I had an email this morning from [ profile] licklepickle to say that the tickets for next June's Glastonbury go on sale on the 4th October. 4TH OCTOBER! That's, like, three weeks away! We can guarantee our places early. I'm so, so, so excited!

I'm also happy about going to see [ profile] xanium, who I presume is currently wandering around my home town, taking in the sights. It was pleasantly odd chatting with her on MSN last night knowing that she's 20 minutes away in this time zone instead of a 22 hour flight and 9 hours ahead :D

It's also very glee-making that today is my Friday - I'm off tomorrow and Mr G & I are off to Snowdonia to go camping and walking in the mountains. It means that it doesn't matter how late I stay out tonight and my current apparent propensity to sleep best from 6.30am onwards, which is a ballache when I have to get up at 7.30am, can be indulged and I can sleep til I wake. I really need it. Then we can saddle up and head off through the beautiful mid Wales countryside to pitch a tent [*sniggers*] in Bettws Y Coed.

Finally, I just got around to reading the instruction manual for my new work mousethat is supposed to prevent the wrist-ache that I've been suffering with lately. I was struggling with it because it's supposed to rest in the palm of my hand and I was having to form my fingers into some kind of claw shape and found they were pressing buttons even when I didn't want them to. However, I've just discovered that the front portion where the buttons are extends away from the palm rest and now that I've adjusted it to take account of my unfeasibly large manhands and loooooong fingers, my whole right side seems to have gone "aaaaah!" Now all I need is my new ergonomic chair and for my desk to be raised by the recommended 3cm and I'm all set in a workspace that's customised for my ludicrous Amazonian proportions.

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