not that I went to Manderley again, but of the coals in the grate in the fire. . .
they are those fake ceramic ones you have in a gas fire of real effect. . . when I bought the house I think I recall breathing a sigh of relief that the fire was in fact fake and not real - I'm too lazy to be lugging sacks of coal and bags of logs backwards and forwards, emptying the ash from the grate, having the chimney swept and so on
I might be recalling that wrong, as I can't really remember big chunks of last year - but I probably thought something along those lines, as there is a time and a place for a real fire (retirement, my cottage by the sea) (not in this house, right now)
(and obviously my thoughts are with the people of Victoria who've had far too close a brush with a real fire recently)
anyhow, this morning the reason I'm thinking about all of this is because last night I dreampt of the fire place, the (fake) coals and the chimney breast. . .
all of which were covered
with inches and inches of soot
as indeed they might be. . .
but - dear reader - what does it mean?