24-hour garage people
Feb. 19th, 2004 03:30 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
hirezI now have two typewriters and no clear recollection why I wanted them in the first place. One is a twenties (I think) Underwood portable and is possibly the nicest mechanical thing I've seen for some time. It's just beaten a D-Class HP9000 into second place for attention to engineering detail. The other is a much more recent Silver-Reed that turned up through some kind of object-gravitational effect that I'm only beginning to understand.
I have a cold or some other snot-producing ailment. Nyquil knocks me out so I can sleep without gurgling away like a broken sewage works, Dayquil kickstarts enough of my metabolism such that I can walk around and usually remember my own name. Thus I have an attention-span of thir
The dreams are entertainingly odd and pitch up in cinemascope. In one, I took the train to Nottingham where I wandered round some vast and distinctly Edwardian department store by means of staff entrances, forgotten passages and secret rooms. (The 'wander vast building dream' is a regular. I have no idea what it means) In the station on the way back, I encountered an ex-manager who I didn't try to throttle on sight. Clearly I was not myself.
The other dream involved moving house to somewhere that was across a valley from an aerodrome. Friends arrived in Edwardian (Hmm...) daywear and D. wanted to know what I'd done with the bag that went with the hat she was wearing. I'd certainly seen it in the move, but it appeared to have been carried off by the large panther that was wandering the place.
Meanwhile, an airshow was in the offing and many odd craft attempted to take to the skies. The one that looked like a NASA lifting-body that failed to be towed aloft by a tractor was particularly entertaining, especially when the pilot emerged and we saw that his flying suit was made of fun-fur.
Chainsaw Ed Price stayed over last night, which was nice.
I have a cold or some other snot-producing ailment. Nyquil knocks me out so I can sleep without gurgling away like a broken sewage works, Dayquil kickstarts enough of my metabolism such that I can walk around and usually remember my own name. Thus I have an attention-span of thir
The dreams are entertainingly odd and pitch up in cinemascope. In one, I took the train to Nottingham where I wandered round some vast and distinctly Edwardian department store by means of staff entrances, forgotten passages and secret rooms. (The 'wander vast building dream' is a regular. I have no idea what it means) In the station on the way back, I encountered an ex-manager who I didn't try to throttle on sight. Clearly I was not myself.
The other dream involved moving house to somewhere that was across a valley from an aerodrome. Friends arrived in Edwardian (Hmm...) daywear and D. wanted to know what I'd done with the bag that went with the hat she was wearing. I'd certainly seen it in the move, but it appeared to have been carried off by the large panther that was wandering the place.
Meanwhile, an airshow was in the offing and many odd craft attempted to take to the skies. The one that looked like a NASA lifting-body that failed to be towed aloft by a tractor was particularly entertaining, especially when the pilot emerged and we saw that his flying suit was made of fun-fur.
Chainsaw Ed Price stayed over last night, which was nice.
