I had a rather unusual dream the other night, so I thought I might share it with you.
For one reason or another, my family had started growing oranges on a playground that, in reality, no longer exists. All these other people, who I have never seen before, were helping with the orange growing. Dad never appeared in the dream (I think he was at work), but Mum did, she had to go down the street, so she did. While she was down the street, myself and the group of people growing oranges decided that they tasted more like pineapples, so we decided to sell them as tinned pineapple. For some reason the tinning (putting the oranges into tins) was done on a nearby roof. Mum came back and then had to go down the street again. I decided to check the letter box, on my way to the letter box I met one of my friend’s mothers, who told me she needed to get a post office box and the post office in Ainslie had run out (actually, I don’t think Ainslie has a post office, but this was a dream after all), I told her that I thought the small post office in Civic may have run our as well, but the Big post office should have a few spare, so she left and the dream ended.
I did warn you that it was unusual.