We’ve slipped the surly bonds of one day and into the grasp of another. I shall call this one, Thursday the thirteenth of January, 2022. Having said it, the reality spreads like a virus, infecting everyone.
Sunrise, if you believe your mind and eyes, entered our sliver of being in Ashland at 7:38 AM. The sun will slip away and give us over to night at 5:02 PM. Mild winter weather still coddles us, 54 F now, at almost noon, with room for a few more degrees of warmth today. Syrupy white clouds mingle with gray, waiting to be stirred and spead over long blue legs.
“Photograph” by Def Leppard (1983) cropped into the morning mental music stream. My wife’s mother passed away Feb 18, 2018. A picture of the woman is in my office on top of a book club. Taken toward the end of her eighty-five years, intelligence and humor still rumbled in her blue eyes then, not so much in the last year of her life. Seeing the photograph brought out the song. So, why? Don’t know what the neurons are up to. I’m just the vessel.
Stay positive. Test negative, wear a mask as needed, and get the vax and boosts when you can. Have coffee if you sway that way. I do, and I will. Cheers
The dream upset me. First was one with the usual military overtones. Superintendent of a command post, fixing it up, blah, blah, blah. I experience so many dreams of that ilk.
It segued into a road trip dream. I was in one car, a red convertible, top up, with a friend. It was a shiny, impressive car. My wife was with a female friend and a coupe in another car. The friend and I in the red car were talking about where we were going, when we were getting there, when we should leave. We agreed, we were prepared to leave; let’s go.
The other car had been parked beside us. I got out to go speak with them and discovered them gone.
Shock surprise went through me. I returned to the car. “They left,” I told my friend.
“They left?” He was as incredulous as me. “Where’d they go?”
“I don’t know.”
I called my wife. After she said, “Hello,” I asked, “Where are you guys? Where’d you go?”
She laughed. “We went to go have a party.”
“A party?” I swallowed the phrase with amazement. “We’re due to leave. We’re supposed to on the road now, starting our journey. Why did you leave? Why didn’t you say something first?”
That’s where the dream ended.