I dreamt that someone had chosen the old house I was brought up in as a location for a film (plot was unclear, something to do with singing cartoon nuns). I was the go-fer for the project. The main editing unit was in our shed but it was really damp and making all the sets rot. All the actors were complaining about their parts and the singing bits were awful (echos of 'Highschool musical' style stuff) and it was generally all collapsing around our ears - it was clear the project was crap. I tried re-writing bits, spending ours in our shed poring over manuscripts, but then the director finally turned to me and said...shall we just throw this away and do you want to write a new film? I was obviously elated at this, but just at that point, teenaged kids started crawling over the wall in the back garden and started throwing bricks and kicking things over. I was just readying me and a few nuns with bats to sort them out when the alarm went off.

Personally I blame the leeks I had last night for tea.

I saw a fox in my garden yesterday evening. It was quite a surprise because it was still light (normally these beasties like wandering around in the dark don't they?) and it was really up close and personal because my garden is quite small. It's certainly the most close up I've ever seen a fox.

Must have been a young one because it was actually playing. It had got a small ball that must have been tossed over by the kids next door and was chomping at it, then it tossed a plant pot around for a short while, and then it rubbed its bum up and down my banana plant, ate some grass, and vomited on my lawn.

Finally it got bored with my garden, ran up the back of my shed and had a run around next doors garden for a bit, nosing in and out of his sheds. Eventually it got up on the back wall and disappeared off. All the while, a local moggy was sitting on a neighbours shed watching the fox very warily.

It just shows why you should always wash your hands after gardening though. I would never in a million years have guessed that a fox was rubbing its bum on my banana plant and being sick on my lawn. I may have merrily weeded there, then got some strange foxes bum disease and wondered "how the hell have I got Foxes Bum disease, I've never been near a foxes bum in my life!".

Might have to stake out the garden with a camera now to see if the fox is a regular.

I dreamt God was writing to me. There are many peculiarities about this - not least that he was writing in a Jamaican accent, telling me to guard a bunch of stuff which I was keeping in a plastic bag strapped to my body to avoid a couple of gents in suits from nabbing off me. My companion, an old man, explained to me that because God was omnipresent, and probably speaking to a bunch of people at once, perhaps sometimes he got confused and forgot what accent he should use for who. Then I went off on a tangent and started wondering if sometimes he made...well, not mistakes but minor gaffs like a holy vision to someone which was actually meant for the guy standing next to him - it might explain why some visions are so cryptic. Something which is so obtuse it has one man scratching his head - if it had been shown to the guy next to him he make have immedatiately leapt up and gone "That's it!". I mean, omnipresent or not - everyone knows how difficult it is to multitask....