I dreamed last night that I worked at an office a few miles from home that I cycled to. The route took me over a bridge – the only one for miles – and that bridge was closed for some reason. It may have even been removed. In the strange way that dreams dissolve hour by hour, the minor details have already gone.
I cycled across the river. Yes, you read that right. It wasn’t a “walking on water” feat of improbability – the bike was half submerged – but somehow the bike held my weight, and although I got wet feet and legs, I was able to cycle across the river.
Sadly I don’t remember anything else.
On a completely different and entirely unconnected subject, after cutting the lawn this morning (disrupted by the lawnmower packing up), I was talking to my other half about childhood memories. I’m not sure how the conversation came up. We started listing off the odd things that have stuck in our mind for the rest of our lives.
I remember going on a trip with my Dad one day – I would have been less than 10 years old – and stopping at a road-side cafe (a “Little Chef”) for something to eat. Given that we didn’t have much back then, and my experience of the wider world was almost zero, that meal has stuck in my mind for the rest of my life. Chips, beans, egg, and sausage. I can remember the salt and pepper coming from paper sachets, and the pepper being ground black pepper – which I had never seen before.
Another memory we both laughed about – and something I have not seen for at least twenty years – novelty ketchup bottles on café tables. When I was young, if you ever went to a café for something to eat, they would invariably have plastic squeezy ketchup bottles on the table. In a strange sort of way, those bottles were “exciting”, because we didn’t have anything like that at home. I remember sometimes the plastic bottles would even look like a giant tomato.
Finally, who remembers “salt and shake” crisps? A normal bag of plain potato crisps, with a small dark blue paper sachet inside containing salt. They are burned into my memories as “special” in some way. While recounting the memory, we both laughed about the final crisps in the packet turning you inside out, because most of the salt had settled among them.
What strange memories about going out, or things that were “special” have stuck in your head from your childhood ?