This morning I dreamt I was back on the farm, but living there as an adult, in one of those come-and-go shared houses that always seem to be full of friends. As I was about to leave to go to work, I heard someone moving around upstairs, and thought, "Oh yes that's Dan. Alex." And went up because I had to tell them about going to the pub later. But it was actually Jenni, packing all her stuff into boxes and bags and things because she was going up North to live on an island. She had bought a chicken for some reason and was trying to get it into a carrier bag. It was objecting, so I said, "let me". It was a really nice chicken; snow-white, plump, spotlessly clean, with bright eyes and a bright red comb. I used my chicken-handling skills to manoever it into the bag. The bag was just the right size, and it calmed right down the moment it was in there, but it wasn't until I tied the handle that I realised that this was a special chicken-transporting bag, ergonomically shaped to keep your chuck calm and safe. "There we go," I said, handing it to her, "All tucked away, quite unnecessary of course." Jenni didn't take back the chicken. "Well," she said, "If it's quite unnecessary ..." and I suddenly realised that she intended to leave me holding the chicken, a thought I didn't like at all.
Merely a coincidence that I had a dream about Jenni, travel and healthy chickens?