I dreamed last night I went to AB Tech around 5:30 a.m. I don't know why. But I ran into Justin. He was toting a rollerboard. We crossed paths amicably. I wondered why he was there and then supposed he needed somewhere to go with his insomnia. Then, I remembered him polishing up some guitar gear and supposed he may have had it in the suitcase to donate it to the music department. He played a concert later. It was in a stadium with bleachers, and the stage was in the announcers' box at the top of the bleachers. I wasn't even in the stadium, but he came down into the audience and I got to see him up-close again, but he was different, like 1950s different.

Maybe that's why I like to sleep. I get to see Justin in my dreams. And maybe that's why he doesn't like to sleep - he's askeeeeered to run into me! Eek.

Do you want me to play Sigmoid Fraud?

I went to Disneyland the summer before I started kindergarten. It was a wonderful time. We went with our grandmother. The sun always shined. We met up with our Uncle who had a movie-star pad in LA. We saw hippies sleeping on the streets of San Francisco and enjoyed cruising down Lombard Street. It was the first time any of us had seen a man with long (Beatles length) hair. I thought he was cute, but the whole car let me know I was wrong. It wasn't until 20 years later that I let my preference for "long" hair, as opposed to brush cuts, out of the closet.

I preferred Disneyland. We went there in later years. We went on Space Mountain. My dad held me on his lap, and I fell off, so I was shifting around on the floor of the compartment. Daddy-O was recording the ride on his cassette deck, and I was afraid the whole world would hear me praying for my life down there. Fortunately, the rumble of the tracks drowned me out.

My favorite rides were: (1) The County Bear Jamboree. Don't ask me why. I had a thing for Big Al. (2) Davey Crockett Canoes. We went there when us kids were all college aged. We rode it three times and managed to get in front all three times, so we set the pace, and so we were racing. The first time, we had to pick up the paddles so as not to pass the canoe in front. The second time, we passed the canoe in front. And, the third time, we passed maybe a couple canoes and got in the wake of the ferry boat. The guide pitched in and helped us run the rapids. OK. So I don't enjoy anything until it's twisted.

I'm off kilter and off-topic. AGAIN.

Oh, yes. We went to Knotts Berry Farm. The family loved the berry jam ever since. Was that where they had the robber board the train. He was a comedian, but I can't remember his lines. "I'll turn you all to . . . [I forget.]" I also remember something in Disneyland where a hippie band rose up from the ground in a cafeteria area. Back to Orlando, I think that was the first time I saw arteries in meat, and had a nightmare subsequently.

I often think of couples who meet on some kind of fantasy. Lies can be so seductive. I imagine "energy fields," like those used to map electrostatic and magnetic fields, swirling around a liar and engaging in "magnetic reconnection" with the field of a sucker, drawing the two together. It's very strong ersatz for the real thing.

I dreamed last night I was staying in a motel with another fan on a Moodies tour. We exited the room to find Mr. Stalker in the hall. The only way he could have known my whereabouts was to have hacked my email account, so I was trying to change the password. I don't know what was more dreadful, the stalker or the change-the-password routine. Back to your post on the other thread, and preferring not to put anybody down, is control freakery. Fortunately with the stalker, he severely underestimates my intelligence. I hate it when others make me their stooge and not jut once.

Happy thoughts. Happy thoughts. I'm remembering the bright California summer sun in 1968 in Knotts Berry Farm, Neenee, Yosemite, Tinseltown before payback time came for the high and mighty, concrete swimming pools, cinderblock walls draped with bougainvillea, polished rocks, tourist traps selling Indian trinkets, the smell of leather moccasins, Indian beads, warm-weather trees, Chinese dining rooms with pillows on the floor for seating, having never yet set foot in a public school, Beatles, Johnny Nash, Gary Puckett, Mason Williams, The Cowsills, The Rascals, Sergio Mendes, Burt Bacharach and Dionne Warwick, and all those bright summer songs on the radio.

Oh, I think Justin is very intelligent. He's just too good be true, I can't take my eyes off of him.

I got to go back to Clarkston. I know Justin lives in the most beautiful place on earth, because he says so. There are no palm trees growing in Clarkston, and winters are snowy. But the mill stream is perfection in my mind's eye. I know not why.

I sat under the pear tree to read my morning scriptures. I flashed back to Sunday School two weeks ago when we learned about a girl who lost a student council race. She was very upset and afterward prayed with her mother and asked God to help her not so much want him to serve her as vice versa. That got me thinking about all those lyrics by Justin that conjure in my mind questions about giving and being blessed and never coming equal, loving as a chore or a zero-sum game. The answer was to do what is right, and had we eyes to see, we would know that always turns out OK.

So, I was there in paradise. The old tree's boughs were absolutely weighed down with pears. I had hoped to make it back in pear season. Pears were all over the ground, but they didn't have their other-worldly flavor yet.

As I sat, a cute, pale green bug came hopping on my lap. He brought me joy, he was so delightful. I let him hop. He looked like perchance a young praying mantis. I lost track of him and was wondering if I would have to fish him out of my shirt when I felt a horrible sting on my chin. I instinctively grabbed at it, and poor little buggy fell, his neck twisted and two legs missing. He writhed and writhed. I thought bugs could get on with legs missing, but this one wasn't making it. I broke down and sobbed. It was just like me to ruin everything beautiful and happy. Poor little buggy just couldn't get it together. I had to get on the road to see my mother, so I put him on a pear and hoped for the best. I should have, in retrospect, made him a box and carried him about in the car so at least he wouldn't get eaten.

So, that night, back to the subject of this thread, I dreamed the boss' dog had died while I was away and he had gotten another. The Evo is a very beautiful dog. She reminds me of Barbara Eden, actually. Anyway, the new dog had a face that looked like the face of the bug I had so horribly mutilated. It reminded me of the time I was house sitting and broke the homeowners' Strawberry Shortcake mug. I dreamed that night a 6' tall Strawberry Shortcake was coming after me.

Get help. I know.

I had forgotten!!!! I TOO was visited by a preying mantis, along the road somewhere. I came out to load my car, and he was on the windshield!!!! I was really really delighted to find him, one of my top "lucky omens" heheh Preying mantii (?) are not dangerous, don't bite, they just look sorta evil. Yours must have been another bug... I have no idea as your bugs are different there. In fact I can't think of any green bugs that DO bite or sting. I'm sorry you got bit! Anyway with my mantis, I tried to capture and hold him a few moments for the good luck, and he looked at me in horror, and managed to get away. Smart bug. That might have actually been in Oakland.

That's right you like pears. Someone has to, you may have my share. I don't care for palm trees because rats live in them (the wild ones) my cousins in downtown Anaheim told me they had been visited by raccoons, 'possums and countless rats.... fairly urban area too.

Personally I would have stepped on the bug and sent him on to Valhalla, that is often the kindest thing to do if they are maimed. They sting me, I have no mercy, no matter how beautiful they are. We all gotta go sometime. It was probably a wasp, drawn by the pears, and they WILL deliberately attack humans.

I'm trying to identify a pond heron I sketched in the trash heap they called a parking lot under the Jack London Inn. He was down there the morning after the show, pecking around the dumpster. Might have been a juvenile bird, as I can't nail the markings w/ subspecies. But he's a heron all reet. We had quite a staring contest there in the early morning parking garage. A good three feet tall.

Time for bed and bath.... I'm busy reading, working, writing up those trip notes... busy busy busy.... hey three day weekend we get to celebrate ol' Columbo landing in the Caribbean! I plan to wear a black arm band myself....

Start at the beginning, and when you're finished, stop.

I saw a partly white crow today!!!! Swooped in my yard!!!!! powerful vision!!!!!!!!!!!!

Yesterday, I had another of those dreams where I reach the finish line and wake up fully rested. I couldn't remember everything. All I know is I went to a Moody Blues concert and wound up in a nice, third-row seat sorta centrally-located and without the Plexiglas obstructions plaguing the first two rows. I had negotiated a second-row seat with a gracious and elderly Asian lady, but this one was better. Then, what seldom if ever has happened in a dream - Justin actually performed on stage. That's all I remember except a girl had her hair in two ponytails. Then, lo and behold, in actuality, a girl at the venue that day had her hair in ponytails.

I think the dream had a calming influence. I just prayed and acknowledged if there was a reason for me wanting to go to all these concerts so badly, God had the power to help me do whatever he wants me to do. At that, I sat back and enjoyed the show. And a great show it was, mostly.

I dreamed I was visiting somebody in a hospital, and some powerful bad guys were getting me to help them wrap me in plastic and put me in a box for disposal. It occurred to me when they stepped out that I did not have to cooperate. I preyed upon the patient to try to help. My angle was, if you were as sinful and harmless as me, wouldn't you want more time to try to net out positive in this life? I knew there was no outrunning the bad guys and a call to 911 would only get me hooked up with a confused dispatcher who would red-tape me until the guys came back. I can't remember what came after that. It was probably a change of scenery. It always happens when I run out of options in dreams.

Mum died today. She was in hospital. She wasn't able to negotiate more time, and she probably felt boxed-in with all her disabilities.

It's a nice day here in Asheville, but it must be really nice in Paradise, in one's full and right mind, surrounded by love and light. One can only imagine.