I am greatly interested by your intricate description of the 'giant anthill in the tundra', but can shed no light as to why you might be having this recurring vision. Does it only appear in dreams, or at intervals throughout the day as well?
If so, in pursuit of a rational explanation, perhaps you should seek psychological assistance?
It was splendid to see you over the weekend, although I apologise once again for not bringing the dominoes along with me to the pub.
I'd forgotten how much you loved playing.
Alas, I returned to find them on the table by the front porch, and, unfortunately, a squirrel had mistaken them for garribaldi biscuits, proceeding to aggressively gnaw away at the exterior of the box.
I will have to get a new box.
Possibly made of lead, as balsa is apparently not rodent-proof.
Perhaps my absent mindedness was a result of our Boules match, 24 hours prior to us meeting at the Jumping Jack Tavern. I'm still in shock at your incredible accuracy, calmness under pressure, thirst for victory and vulgar language.
I will obviously have to be at my best for the tournament next month.
Of course, the "giant anthill in the tundra" is better understood via its metaphorical properties; the tundra presumably representing a Mother figure, whilst the anthill, obviously, speaks for itself. The size is of no consequence.
I second your assessment of the weekend, and you must promise me not to give yourself too hard a time about the dominoes. It's funny, I don't know why I enjoy them so much - I suppose because it reminds me of Morwenna. She would have laughed to have seen us. She always held you in very high esteem - despite that awful evening in Halifax - and I know she was genuinely dismayed by your dismissal.
Apologies for my outburst on the green. You know as well as any, how often the steadiness of my wrist seems to run parallel with the blueness of my tongue. With that said, however, I did rather find my form, didn't I? Not to suggest that you didn't also pull out a few belters. Perhaps, in this form, it won't be so very long before one of us attains the elusive Royal Pigeon - though, that, would be achievement indeed.
p.s. M always insisted on keeping her dominoes in a biscuit barrel?