... and I've had another Tarot dream of the Interesting Kind.
A few of you know that I now live-and-work in a local resort/hotel thingie. Every six months, it sponsors and provides a venue for a Thai Boxing League to have their inter-club tournaments. There's been one such Fight-Night since I've been here, and there'll be another soon.
So the dream started with me being at a Thai Boxing fight-night: NOT at this venue, but hosted at a showground near where my daughter and I used to live twenty years ago, I still recognise the pavillions and grounds of the G____ Showground really well and the dream-landscape represented them exactly.
In the dream, there was an outdoor carvery to the right of the main entry to the Showground, and outdoor tables, and lots and lots of people milling around eating great platters of Dead Animal. Also in the dream, I knew the fight-night was being hosted by a friend of mine, who used to run a new age shop near here for several years, she doesn't any more.
I was wandering around watching all the audience stuffing their faces (the words "snouts in trough" echoed through the dream), and in amongst the crowd I found one table with no people sitting at it. Instead, there was a single boxed set of the
Russian Snake Tarot displayed, to let people know they could buy it elsewhere at the event. Now, even in the dream I knew I already owned a copy - I love it to pieces - but even though I knew I had one, I spent some time during the dream scheming how to steal it so that no one in the crowd milling around me would notice. Of course, I never came up with a method: everything I could think of (like shoving it up my jumper) would have been seen. So I was just standing there admiring it and longing to steal it.
And a middle-aged Aussie guy who looked as if he's be right at home at fight-nights and stuffing his face at carveries, walked up to me. He told me he know why LWBs were always so badly written and such poor sources if information. He told me it was because the people who were employed to write LWBs had to right at least sixty of them per month to make any kind of living at it. Sixty a month? I was gobsmacked. That was two a day - more, if they wanted a day off during the month. No wonder they are so uniformly dreadful!
I was just about to say something or ask something, when the bedside phone rang with a customer enquiry, and I had to wake up and put on my Best Work Voice. The ultimate irony was that, a few minutes after I'd dealt with that enquiry, the phone rang again. It was a guy asking when the next Thai Boxing Fight Night was going to be on, and whereabouts in our venue it would be held. <cackle>