Shattocks

Miscellaneous and Personal Stuff I Must Share
1

OK, I get some weird dreams, but this one really gets me.

A couple of nights ago I dreamed about what I knew in the dream to be called shattocks. They were garden trowels, apparently used ceremonially in some kind of Pagan or Wiccan ceremonies. They were made entirely of wood, had a sort of “hilt”, and were elaborately painted. I even saw a kind of “engineering drawing” of one, showing elevations.

I’m amazed at the detail of this dream, right down to the blueprints and the realistic-sounding name. (Tell the truth – doesn’t “shattock” sound like something out of Medieval Europe? If I told you it was, instead of the above explanation, wouldn’t you believe me?)
I went so far as to plug “shattock” and “trowel” into the search engines. It turns out that “Shattock” is a common name, and that it’s associated with a group that stages mock combats at Renaissance Fairs (!). I also found a page with both “Shattock” and “trowel” on it – a list of murders. Siomeone named Shattock got killed, and someone got killed with a trowel (not Shattock, though – that would really creep me out).

Does anybody else get these weird, highly detailed and plausible dream images?

2

Holy crap, did I!

Here’s mine: (now from what my friends and co-workers tell me my dream sounds like a combination of “Swing Kids” and “The Producers,” but I swear I’ve never seen “The Producers,” and I saw “Swing Kids” years ago…)

It’s a bit long, but bear with me:

I was a young lad in 1930s Germany, recruited into Hitler’s Youth organization. Hitler himself kidnapped me and brought me to his private dungeon where he psychologically tortured me by pointing unloaded guns at my head and pulling the trigger. This happened for days and weeks on end. Finally, Adolf told me he was doing this to “break” me, and make sure I was trustworthy. He made me his right-hand man.

At this point in the dream, I came out of the story, and realized it was all just a dream. Now, I wasn’t awake, yet. So my sleeping mind starts to think that this story would make for a great romantic-musical comedy. I start developing the script, songs and characters in my head.

Eventually-- after coming up with a couple of song premises-- I decide to try and “fall back asleep” so I can get back to the story.

When I returned to the action-part of the dream, Hitler and I were under heavy fire from Allied forces. It was for this very moment that all those weeks of psychological torture were necessary, Adolf told me. “I had to make sure you would have my back when things got rough,” he said. “Now I know I can trust you.”

Little did he know, however, was that my mind didn’t succumb to his brain-washing techniques. I was a wolf in sheep’s clothing. I was plotting all along to assassinate him at just the right moment.

And that moment was now. I took out my revlover and plugged him in the back of the head.

So at this point in the dream, I again come out of the “action” mode and into the mode where I’m turning the story into the romantic-musical comedy.

I start thinking that a musical involving Adolf Hitler might not go over too well-- it would be too offensive to Jews. So although the setting of the play remains in Germany during WWII, I begin thinking of new names for our leading villan.

I finally settle on the name “Magnus Scherff.” I call the musical “Magnus and Me.”

At this point, I woke up. My first thought was “Holy crap! I just wrote a musical! I have to write this stuff down-- It must be a gift from God!” Then I realized the whole thing was not fantastic at all, and actually was ridiculous.

Ah well. This is probably the most detailed dream I’ve ever had that I could remember after I woke up.
Happy

3

I think you mean “mattock” it’s a bit like a hoe.

4

That might have helped inspire it, but the Shattock is a smaller, hand implement, and not shaped like a “mattock” at all. Still, good idea.

5

I’m reading Forbidden Knowledge by Rodger Shattuck right now. If he gets into garden implements, rest assured, I’ll be getting in touch with you. :slight_smile:

6

I once dreamed that I was a plainclothes cop. The city had just started this new initiative of procuring unmarked police cars that really look like unmarked police cars. They had this big ceremony to introduce the new vehicles and I was the first to receive one, a modified '57 Nomad. That dream seemed so real that when I went to start my new ride, the act of engaging the clutch woke me up.