Garden Monkeys

I'm not sure why but I keep having dreams about monkeys in my back garden. In this dream, the garden was a combination of my parent's old house in Wivenhoe, and my own in the same village. Li was cooking in the kitchen and my sisters were over. Fallon came in from the garden at dusk, already dark, and I saw a low shadow following her across the lawn. It turned out to be a Gray Langur, walking upright on two legs. My dog ran over to sniff it, but the monkey ignored him. It followed us into the house, seemingly unafraid of all the people, and came to stand by Li's legs. Still at the hob, she looked down and gave a startled cry. I decided to try feeding it, and sliced it off some banana. The langur took the banana and hobbled back outside, much to the delight of Lulu and everyone else present.

We watched it make its way back down the lawn and into the dense canopy of dark trees. It was then that I spied the twinkling eyes of many other monkeys watching from the branches. All night I heard their cries and saw their forms flitting amongst the shrubbery. Then it was a pale, grey sunrise, slowly illuminating the bottom of the garden. On the back fence I saw perched Verreaux's Sifakas, (although with striped tails like a Ring-tailed Lemur), a pot-bellied Proboscis Monkey, and a Snow Leopard, crouched almost human like on the flimsy wooden slats. I wondered how the monkeys could survive in the UK, and where they managed to forage enough fruit and nuts to live on. I have no idea what this recurring dream might mean...

Conger Meal

Possibly prophetic, but I dreamt that Li and I bought/rescued a giant conger eel from a pet shop. We intended to bring it home, but were waylaid and first had to spend the night at my parents' house. Thus, the eel languished in a large sports bag, half in stasis but without any water. I knew it would not survive the night, and that I should keep it in the bathrub, but I was mortally terrified of the thing and could not approach the bag. A fraught evening passed, during which time my father lost his temper and accused us both of trying to embezzle money from him, which to be fair, we were. I knew that the eel was suffering and dying, but terror outweighed compassion, and it slowly expired.

Now stuck with a giant dead eel, I suggested that we feed it to our dog, Beibei, and then discovered that conger flesh was toxic and need extensive prep before being edible. This is not the case in real life, where they are considered a delicacy. Li's Chinese side kicked in and she decided to served up some of the eel for dinner. I stayed far away from the process, and the meal was served. Chunks of eel, along with baby potatoes and salad. I tried to eat as much as I could, but the taste was foul and acidic. I used extra salt, vinegar and pepper to mask the taste, yet still it came through. I flipped the piece I was working on over and saw that the dark skin was still attached. This was the last straw. Fighting the urge to spit it out, I forced myself to swallow it down.

Then I woke up with a truly disgusting taste in my mouth. It's amazing how that can happen. I went onto campus for my office day and decided to mix up my usual routine. Because I planned to use my lunch playing badminton, I thought I'd go in early and load up on a full English in the canteen. This was a big mistake, as it was the foullest fry-up that's ever passed my lips, and I've had some rotters. Every single item on the plate was utter garbage and lingered in my mouth long after - a poisoned memory. Perhaps the eel experience was trying to warn me.