JUNE 7 1845 - WAS IT ALE? OR WAS IT NOT?

I had somehow found my way home, at least I awoke in the kitchen of my home, seemingly slumped across the kitchen table for the night.
My memory of yesterday was very vivid, I recalled a walk along the sea front as well as events of others in slow motion all day long. I did not recall drinking Ale in the local pub, though spillage on my clothing suggests it was Ale. So my confusion is, what really did happen yesterday.
I decided to return to sea front, to retrace my steps, something had to add up. This is all very confusing.
After a quick wash and a change of clothing, I headed towards the headland, to the sea front.
It was when I arrived that I was now fully convinced, this was exactly where I was yesterday. I then gave careful thought to my actions, that was difficult to do, as that Ale last night must have been the landlords strongest brew, 'Captains Ale', I only ever have a head like this after a pint of Captains.
As I pondered my actions that day, I kept recalling something that made no sense at all, a mesmerizing image filled my thoughts, now please do not laugh, my thoughts are of a huge object like an upturned washing bowl. I seem to recall seeing it descend from the sky and come to rest some thirty feet ahead of where I stand. It's size was bigger than that of my cottage, maybe two in size. This recollection is ridiculous, surely I must have been drinking Ale all day long to imagine such a thing.
As I ponder on this strange thought, it becomes clearer, I recall seeing two strange people come from within the huge bowl like object, the emerged from the rear of it, I am sure some stairway was there, at least something extended from it there.
I think they spoke to me, but whatever was said is not recalled. I recall the sounds about me appeared to drone, as if groaning. These people gave me something, a small object like a silver snuff box, square in shape.
I remembered putting it in my jacket pocket, after that what went on I am unsure. At least I recall a voice telling me it was late and to head home.
 I shall sit here and ponder longer over this matter. Now I have an urgent need to go home and look in my jacket pocket.
Let me rest for a short while, I shall keep you informed.

The day before tomorrow never goes away. June 6 1845

I had been walking along the coast at Cromar, it was a day like most days, the Sun came up and one presumes it will go down. I say presume for on this day tomorrow never came, the Sun went in slow motion, appeared to take hours before it rose above the horizon, even the Dawn Chorus was finding it difficult to maintain its time honored morning call. I had never ever encountered a day like this.
I became greatly disturbed as I returned to the village, what I saw disturbed me, I will admit terrified me. People were walking about as if in slow motion, barely moving but a fraction of an inch as I starred at them. Horse and cart were likewise moving at such a pace that time appeared to be standing still.
As for myself, I appeared to be moving in what I would call, normal time. I called out to Joseph Minton as he rode past on his horse and cart, but I could have called forever, as he passed so slowly, yet never appeared to hear a word.
I began to feel I was dreaming all this, that it was me that was all wrong and not the day and its people. Yet every so often I would realize I was behaving quite normal, just the world about me was a bit odd to say the least.
The day was so prolonged that I cannot really say how long it was, it just dragged on and on and on.
I must have become weary, fell asleep. Goodness knows how long I had been awake. All I can tell you is this, I was awoken by Bernard Miller, he was shaking me violently, I appeared to be sprawled out on a bench outside The Fishermans Rest. It was nightime, Bernard was shouting 'Charles, Charles, get up you drunken fool, it is eleven twenty, the pub is closed, now go home.'
I recall trying to stand up and watching the image of Bernard swaying left and right, then staggering off towards the direction that Bernard said was home. 
The following day I tried to tell people of the strange day I had seen, everything going in slow motion, yet not one person would believe me, so I leave it for you to mull over.