Enter Burb, stage-left. It's a place I don't recognize from life as we know it, but I seem to be at-home there. He's there to pick up a plant we had talked about, and I'm out in the back yard digging it up. The yard is a wide but not deep space behind a wide but not deep two-story house set on a slope with trees around it. Burb and I get to talking about horticulture, what will grow well where, then stray from the topic and realize that time is passing so we'd better get back on-task. He has to go somewhere and will be back later for the plant.
Enter my dad, stage-right. We stand around outside talking about this and that, the plants growing in the yard, Burb's visit, the weather. Eventually Burb returns by helicopter or balloon or personal hovercraft or something, and instead of digging up the plant in question, we take a ride in his vehicle to get a birds-eye view of the property and the flora and fauna on it. That's all I remember.
Unrelated (but we know better than to believe that anything is unrelated to anything else, don't we) or maybe synchronistic daydream: A friend I only see occasionally, a former member of my Wednesday night men's group, has been planning for a couple of years to move to Seattle, and his departure is rapidly approaching, so there's a need to get together. The group got to talking about the Pacific Northwest/Washington state area at our meeting last night, so I took a look at an interesting publication this morning called, ironically, The Stranger. Check it out. And a sample of the humor:
On to another unrelated (or not) daydream, I've been listening to Bob Dylan's 1993 release "World Gone Wrong" a lot lately, like once or twice every night for a week or two; I do that sometimes, get on a jag with one CD and keep listening to it over and over because I keep finding different things in it, and during the day when I'm doing other things I hear certain songs (Blood in My Eyes, Delia) in my head while I'm doing other things; everybody does that, right? It's a different kind of Dylan album, just his voice and acoustic guitar doing an homage to delta blues, all traditional songs or covers. And stream of consciousness, political liner notes: "...against cultural policy...monstrous pompous superficial pageantry parading down lonely streets on limited access highways. strange stuff indeed."
Then, in the dream-space of museum and gallery travel for academic credit, Helga Golly called from Wassamatta U. to say that IF she can't go on the London-Paris study tour between fall and spring semesters, she could go on the New York study tour during October instead. Life should be full of such dilemmas! But it's complicated, dontchaknow, by a possible conflict with a friend's wedding, time away during a very busy class schedule, money, the usual real-life factors that keep it interesting. We'll see what develops further along in dreamtime.
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