Penelope Wilton, Benjamin and Me

Well I wasn't going to tell you any more of my dreams because other people's dreams are so boring. But I haven't left the house for nine days and have nothing else to write about. Besides, last night I dreamt that I went to the National to admire the props for a costume drama starring Simon Russell Beale and Penelope Wilton (possibly The Seagull). I was with members of an amateur dramatic group and my dog Benjamin, a miniature dachshund, sadly now dead in real life.

Unfortunately Benjamin and I got trapped on stage after the curtain went up and Penelope Wilton had to work around us. I could tell she was cross, and indeed she read out some of my 'to do' lists that I had left on a series of yellow post-it notes on a book on a table on stage, giving rise to unfriendly laughter from the audience. However shortly before I managed to shuffle off on my knees to exit backstage with Benjamin in my arms, she gave me a kiss on the forehead to show that she had forgiven me.

It doesn't seem to be an auspicious dream - the kiss on the forehead from PW is a good sign but the unfriendly laughter from the audience and her irritation at my presence on stage are not, never mind shuffling around on my knees with a dead dog in my arms. Fortunately I have temporarily put aside the play I had been working on to finish my novel, which is going quite well.