And when I woke up I related this to the times in my boyhood when she'd put a guilt trip on me for sitting up in my room with a book when I might have been out helping my father in the garden. It was something that turned me off gardening for life- and I still fume about it.
Well, perhaps not any more. I think I see now what she was was doing. She had these two sulky, antisocial lumps of masculinity on her hands- her husband and her son- and she was trying to get them to spend time with one another. Her method lacked finesse- because she's not that well socialised herself- but she meant well.
I've been thinking about karma- trying to understand it and- as happens- my unconscious presented my dreaming self with an example from my own life- with a strong hint that it was time to be rid of it. Quite right too. Nothing glamorous or amusing or grown up about holding onto karma. Let go, let go, let go.