I didn’t sleep well last night. I woke around three from a nightmare in which my decades-deceased uncle was partially transformed into a panther, and was being interrogated, while I and someone I couldn’t identify held paperbacks, and argued about whether the pages flying around were loose because of a ghost or because spilled vinegar had melted the glue in the binding. I was on the side of vinegar. The dream sounds funny, now, I know, but in the dark, in the night, it was creepy and left me awake with my skin tingling, and while the details faded, the terror lingered. Poor Fuzzy tried to soothe me but the only solution was to be awake, so I pulled the laptop in bed with me, and left the lights out so he could sleep, and finally went to sleep again around five, waking when Fuzzy nudged me to tell me that he was leaving.
Only after I’d worked for an hour from bed did I realize that it was cold, and grey and damp outside. I looked out to the mailbox to see if mail had come, and couldn’t tell, but a very pale golden retriever was hovering around the mailbox (not surprising, as it’s Zorro and Cleo’s favorite spot to leave messages) and it saw me and wagged its tail. I went out an hour or so later to check the mail, and it was across the street. It sat and wagged at me, and I decided that if it was still out and the damp turned to rain, I would bring it into the garage and give it water and a blanket and see if its collar held id tags that were of any use. But when I checked again when the rain started, there was no sign of the dog.
I’ve seen it before, in the neighborhood, but can’t remember where it lives. Poor thing. I could tell it wanted to be home.
My throat is all raw again today, and I feel kind of blechy. Not sick exactly, just…blechy. As if the grey damp day has settled into my mood in a bad way.
This afternoon I wrote about 300 words about Honda Accords. My first official work. Still don’t have the manual I was told about. Must remember to check on that. I like these little 250-ish word reviews. They’re quick and snappy and since it’s just content there are no funky keywords to embed. Also, it’s informative.
Had pumpkin I had to use, so made pie this afternoon. We hadn’t made it over Christmas because I forgot to get the evaporated milk. As it is, Fuzzy brought me back a can each of evaporated and condensed, so I used them both (recipe calls for two cans of evaporated), and used the dregs of the condensed milk to sweeten my mug of chicory-laced coffee from Cafe du Monde, a present from my cousin Stacie in Louisiana, whose birthday is TOMORROW. (Must remember to call her.) She’s got this gentle Southern accent and as sharp a tongue as I have, though her humor is kinder than mine. We’re just getting to know each other after a lifetime of really being just names to one another, and it’s been a great experience.
And now? Now Fuzzy is home, and I made his favorite vegetables, and I’m going to putter and do laundry and maybe be in bed by one.
there has to be something freudian about your decades-deceased uncle being partially transformed into a panther. sounds frightening, or maybe it’s all about speed and power.
Hello, Michele did not send me (though she might as well have). For me, the nightmare is welcome because it is a dream that I do not desire to continue. My good dreams are terribly addictive, and they get in the way of making money. Why do I need dollars when I can have flying?