I had the most peculiar dream last night.

Mum, Dad, my daughter and myself were in our old home. At least it was our home from the outside. Inside the house had a corridor at the front, two leading off to the rear of the house. No living room or kitchen, but loads of toilets down both sides of the house going off a long narrow corridor. In one corridor my parents bedroom, in the other mine and my daughters. They were like cells, very small and narrow.

Outside, an aeroplane was (for want of a better term), parked nose down but not touching the ground with the pilot – a very young blond girl – asleep in the cockpit. It was constantly moving from one side of the house to the other.

Looking from the front windows out into the distance, my father pointed to a tornado quickly bearing down on our home, it was very big and dark making one hell of a noise. We sought safety. My daughter refused to leave her bedroom, so Mum and myself went in there with her, Dad came to take us into the larger safer bedroom at the other side of the house. There was no furniture so we had to sit on the floor.

The tornado passed and we were unharmed, the house undamaged.

I believe dreams have meaning. This one – absolutely no idea what it was all about.