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Tuesday, May. 19, 2015 - 14:28

Friday night I dream I'm in Scotland, living there for six months. We're in an old school doing a treasure hunt or hide-and-seek, me and the puppy's roommate and a bunch of other people. My house sits by itself on a hill by the sea. I'm there, it's raining, and my house slides down the hill a ways. I go outside and try to call the puppy's roommate but I've got this huge plastic phone and can't figure out how to make calls. I accidentally call someone here in the U.S., it's 3:30 in the morning here, I pretend I meant to call her, I hang up and still can't figure out how to call the puppy's roommate. I wander around trying to find him but go back to my house. The townspeople are there helping to clean up but someone has stolen my Pearl Jam records and my Rolleiflex camera. I don't know why I'd moved all my stuff to Scotland, but I had.

Sunday night I dreamed that I was in Paris and my friend who had a heart attack during the Boston Marathon two years ago and who is a rancher/retired rodeo champ in real life owned a modern high-end/high-tech apartment with a vast wooded estate, in the middle of Paris, but there were dead bodies buried all over his property. Not like an old cemetery, or even a new cemetery - random unfortunate bodies that people had put there. My friend's adult son was showing me around the building. He may have been villainous. The code to get into the apartment was 4876. There may have been a murder plot afoot. It was cold. It started snowing. I woke up freezing - earlier I'd woken up and had been hot and sweaty and had thrown off my blankets. It had snowed in my dream and I imagined it had snowed in real life, but it was 45 degrees out.

Last night I dreamed of... nothing? Missed the garbage truck coming by this morning and didn't get out of bed until 7:45.

It's been very windy here, too windy to ride my bike to work, strong headwinds both ways.

When I got back to town on Sunday night and saw the puppy for the first time in over two dog weeks he hugged me quietly and licked my face. These days his favorite thing to do is to help me get my car out of the garage. He insists on it. He comes into the garage with me, he gets in the car and sits there happily, we back out while he supervises and makes sure everything's okay, and then once the car's in the street he's very happy to hop out - we're home! It's cute. He's 19 now.

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