dreams - the Perfect House - Turning Potatoes

I don't know if the phrase Turning Potatoes (mentioned to be in conflict with the tiles in the bathroom?!?!?) was some sort of wedged-in code-word, but I got the message. And no I have never heard of 'turning potatoes' nor have I gone on the internet to research such.

It's one of the mysterious and bizarre facts of this morning's dream i.e. at 05:00 a.m.

It was placed in a town (Haydock, where I'm from) but it was very early in my life when I remember it looking mostly like this. I'm talking about when I was five or six years old, maybe younger. Where Penny Lane meets Vista Road. After that, all these details were rebuilt. There didn't used to be a big roundabout, for example.

So, I'm walking down Vista Road and soon come across The Perfect House. It's on a junction of a side street, and it has tall windows like a retail property conversion. Put it this way, "It called out to me," even though it was in total disarray. Every room needed some work doing to it, and furniture was stacked in the middle of each rotting room. But there was a built-in white-wood book case that I'd seen before somewhere, and I wanted it. I could see the future potential of every room of this house. I wanted to buy this place, now.

Then the old residents arrived, a group of twenty-somethings who'd all lived here together in many of the rooms. I couldn't get a single one of them to give me a tour of the house. The best one would offer is there were Turning Potatoes in the garden that conflicted with the tiles in the bathroom. No one wanted to escort me around the property. I talked to them as a reluctant group and told them I was fifty-two years old, twice their age. And then there's talk of everybody dies, soon. I mean, "What the hell's that all about?"


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