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You May Say I'm a Dreamer
I didn't realize my last blogger dream would have such a profound effect on my dream's special guest stars, Frank and Gary. I just thought it was a funny little dream, and it would amuse them to read about it. So I was rather touched when they appreciated the dream so much and posted about it on their blogs.
But I have to say I have utterly no clue how last night's blogger dream guest stars will react if they should read this post.
The dream took place in the back yard of the house where I grew up in California. It was summer, and all the bloggers were over for a barbecue. I had planted some seeds, not in the vegetable patch where we traditionally grew our little kitchen garden, but along the fence, where in real life were wistaria vines. The seeds I planted grew into windingly tall vines, sprouting tiny squash and tomatoes the size of large water balloons. I picked the overripe fruit, colored red and green, and carried them over to the picnic table my dad had built. Chris Locke started ranting about some plan to take over the world, and someone said something snarky about the quality of the water in Colorado, and why everyone in Boulder drank bottled water. Then Marek J and I went through my high school poetry notebooks to give something I wrote to Chris. That's about all I remember.
Oh, and if you have something Freudian to say about my ripe tomatoes, I could care less. I've already had a dream about one-eyed snakes; it doesn't get any worse than that.
So Marek and Chris, I hope you enjoyed your 15 minutes of dream-fame. And I think I'm supposed to say something about Bruner, and pigs.
Oh yeah, and Marek, happy new blog day. Here are some lyrics for your blogwarming:
My friend is starting over
There is a trembling
Today, today, he's trembling
Through the treesIf you see him there on your street
Will you smile or shake his hand?
Today, today, the Brotherhood
Of man-- The Innocence Mission, Today
I don't know why, but they made me think of you.
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