Mr H and I are just back from a fantastic week in the far north west of Scotland, camping at a wee village called Scourie.
Since we got back on Sunday, I've had a couple of bad dreams where I am lying out in the dark on the edge of a hillside, feeling as though I'm going to roll or fall over the edge and getting distressed.
Last night, even though Mr H comforted me and I curled up hugging him, I still felt as though we were out there in the scary dark. It was only after in my half-sleep I felt something with my feet and eventually worked out it was the blanket box at the end of the bed that I realised I was in our bed.
I think I may need a chink in the curtains tonight....