Dreams

I remember dreams from the age of 3. I can be specific because of the ramifications. A green version of a man who scared me but I liked him. I called him my green Daddy, talked about him often enough for my Dad (who worked nights at the time) to question my mum!
After my beloved Nan died I was around 10y, I regularly dreamt of her house which morphed onto other homes we lived in. I would walk through them endlessly, ending up either with a feeling of happiness or melancholy.

I still have vivid memories of exam dreams, the sort where I have a German literature exam coming up, and not only have I not read any of the books, I don’t even know what they are. I don’t know why it was always German, when I was also studying 2 other languages.

I do still have this one very occasionally, though.
Almost worth it to wake up in a panic and realise, phew, just a dream!

I haven’t had the dinner party one for decades though - the one where it’s nearly 11 pm and the potatoes still aren’t cooked. That’s probably because it’s decades since we’ve had what you’d call a dinner party, rather than a casual family/friends meal.

I used to have a recurrent one about a house I’ve never owned or visited. I was familiar with every room, even with any renovations needed. Where on earth that came from I have no idea.

Oh yes it is.
I remember a dream from 1978. I dreamt that I entered a stately home, was walking across the magnificent entrance hall when I promptly turned into a potted plant.
At the time I put it down to exam nerves as I was due to take my final exams in a couple of weeks.