Here are last night’s dreams. They are thematically divergent from the recent flow.

The wife and I are in Malta. We are wandering around a built up area with alleys off the main street it is possibly Valetta. We are looking for somewhere to have lunch. Down a side alley I see a chalked up slate easel menu board. We go to investigate. There is a Germanic old-school style café with pastries in the window, a bar and a few tables. The patron is a tall man with a white low apron and is sporting a full moustache. We look at the menu and go in. I go up to the counter and start to try to order in German. I am looking for a sausage in a long roll. There are several kinds. The man is very happy that I am trying German. In a mixture of mostly German and some English I complete my order, the wife orders in English. Soon the host comes over to our table with our food. Again we try German. It gets easier but I still cannot remember the German for sausage. The host is very happy with me and effusive.

I come to and I too am very happy, inordinately, that I was able to remember German in the dream. The word wurst comes to me and it makes me laugh. It is weird to be so happy about remembering German.

I drift back off and am in a veranda of sorts it is like a pod off the side of a house, with many facets, more sides than a hexagon. I don’t know whose veranda it is. Outside the garden runs down to a small river or brook. The veranda is in a bit of disrepair. The glass panels do not fit well. Outside on the window ledges is a cat. It is trying to get in to the veranda. As it moves to a gap in the window panes I readjust the panes so it cannot get it. This becomes something of a game between me and the cat. There will always be a gap because of the state of repair. We play this game for a long time.

I come to and wonder if the dream is pointing at some practical tasks that keep cropping up.

I drift off and am now in an office which is quite serious. I am looking at some paper work about extensive legal problems someone is having in South Africa. That person James cannot do anything about these problems whereas I might. The documentation is extensive and it is about a debt that he and others ran up. There are also share certificates and summons from courts. It is a huge mess and the paper trail is very extensive. There is a lawyer there who asks if I would like to help out. It looks like a minefield but I have the power to assist. I may be able to pay the fines to at least deal with the court summons. James is unaware of the dire situation he is in and the consequences thereof. He is not taking it seriously.

The scene changes and I am at an outside event with barbecues and an entertainment stage. Cars are parked around pub garden tables. It feels UK. There are people using the brai to cook. I have a sudden urge for an ice cream from one of the vans. I order one and go to pay. I cannot find my wallet. The man said I may have dropped it last night when I was drunk. I look on the floor in front of the van and find several wallets and several torches which I put on the ice cream van counter. One of them is my normal wallet. It is soaking wet. I open it and it is jammed full of pristine South African rand, mostly of high denomination. I peel off a few notes and hand the man a R80 note. Which he takes. He asks me about what I am going to do with all my dormant South African bank accounts. Many or which are full and could be filled from other South African sources. I say that I was planning on closing them down. He is now speaking in an Afrikaans accent and suggests that I let them fill up for a while and then decide what to do. If the account wants to fill with money where is the harm in that. I say to him that money and by extension power are not currently how I live. They seem distant. He laughs and say that despite this I still have a wallet crammed full of pristine soaking wet rand!!

The dream ends.