At least 40 years ago, I had dreams in which I was flying with the vision of a drone, technically supported by a backpack with a coil. Could be that reading to my daughter from ‘Karlsson from the roof’ was the cause of that.

I was then wearing only my sleep shirt, washed and shrunk to my navel in the dryer. These dreams were a great improvement; previously I was walking down the Rotterdam Lijnbaan mall like this.

Psychologists will be able to explain that. When people looked up to me it was an image like a jellyfish, floating in the swell.

I had that dream again. My grandson who is now 16.

We lost each other 3 years ago when a cruel twist of fate separated us and we could no longer have contact. Can’t think about it yet, let alone tell about it.