Spike's house

I was visiting the home of Spike Milligan. It was a marvellous place, with many spacious rooms full of books and comfortable, if rather worn, furniture. He was there in one of the rooms, but he was old and tired and did not move from the chair he was tucked up in, with a blanket over his legs. It made me sad to see him that way. I went upstairs and found there was a more modern looking room with a gift-shop. It was selling not books but paper and pens and small decorative items. There were very tiny notebooks and sets of tiny writing paper and envelopes, the kind I remember reading about him writing in for his children as messages from the fairies. 

New job

I was at a gathering with people who were new to me. I had just accepted a job in some kind of religious role. It involved reading and writing, helping people know how to behave and I remember reflecting at one point that this would also help them to 'pay their taxes'. There was a woman who kept trying to explain to me that the man in charge, a vicar or priest figure, was not to be trusted. At one point I was talking with him about the job and I had just about come to the point of admitting to him that I did not belong to any church community at all when our conversation was interrupted.

Untidy bedroom

I was in a room, a bedroom, which was very untidy and I felt irritated by that and wanted to clean it up, but it wasn't mine. When I thought no one was looking I cleaned up an area but I was afraid I might throw away something useful, so I stopped. Someone was sitting up in the bed and I had an impression of someone behind him I couldn't see clearly. All around the bed were stacks of dusty items. The room was decorated in a kind of boho or hippy style with bright coloured rugs and throws. I was in a wheelchair, although that didn't seem to be of any importance, except that parts of it got detached and I was afraid they might get lost among all the untidy piles of stuff. At one point I embraced the person sitting in the bed and when I did that my irritation about the untidiness eased, it didn't seem to matter so much. At another point I left the bedroom and found that the rest of the house was decorated in the same style but was much cleaner and tidier. Finally I left the house and got lost trying to navigate the roads in my chair. I wanted to get back to the house.

Landing

I was in a plane, coming in to land. I was expecting a hard landing, anticipating the impact but there was none. I realised we were on the ground while I was still braced. We then transferred to a bus for the onward journey.