Woke up late today. 7:00am.
Monday.
Everyone loves mondays, right?
I'll need to take some pictures around my house.
It's interesting to live on the edge of the national forrest.
I need to put some gas into my truck.
Will update with freaky duck dream later.
update: At work, eating "Hot Wasabi Peas" and chocolate covered fruits and nuts for breakfast. Coffee pot makin coffee.
----------------------------------------------------------------
Ok, ok, the dream. OK.
Desert. Looks like Arizona. Sandy spiderwebbed roads everywhere.
My parents and I are riding along in what appears to be a convertable International Scout II.
Brush and cacti dot the berms between
the chaotic 'roads'.
Little grey spurts from the ground all over, I assume its just dust and sand from the wind.
I look to my left, and see what appears to be an injured duck struggling its way up one of the berms.
It had been a white duck, but was now grey and dirty and sooty.
It's neck was held in an unnatural position, like it had been broken. Jutting straight up from its body, then curved violently back down, its beak almost touching the ground.
The truck stopped, and I jumped out to see if I could help it.
As I got closer to it, and the berm, I noticed that the puffs I'd been seeing were in fact thousands of tiny smouldering fires just beneath the surface of the sand.
I saw too, that the duck was in fact, blind, it's eyes white and scarred.
This duck would ram its face under the sand at all these tiny smouldering fires, I guess trying to put them out, but I'm not sure.
I tried to stop it without touching it, just trying to get it to stop.
My mother jumps down from the truck, and picks the poor thing up.
We head to some sort of wood building, my eyes on the duck the entire time.
Some goose wandered by at this point, but was not anything important in the dream, I dont think.
I looked away for a bit, and when I looked back, it was dead on the ground, surrounded by tiny black and white birds that looked like woodpeckers.
My mother told me the tiny black and white birds had killed it.
She had a name for them, but I cant remember the name.
We left, the dream ended.
Monday.
Everyone loves mondays, right?
I'll need to take some pictures around my house.
It's interesting to live on the edge of the national forrest.
I need to put some gas into my truck.
Will update with freaky duck dream later.
update: At work, eating "Hot Wasabi Peas" and chocolate covered fruits and nuts for breakfast. Coffee pot makin coffee.
----------------------------------------------------------------
Ok, ok, the dream. OK.
Desert. Looks like Arizona. Sandy spiderwebbed roads everywhere.
My parents and I are riding along in what appears to be a convertable International Scout II.
Brush and cacti dot the berms between
the chaotic 'roads'.
Little grey spurts from the ground all over, I assume its just dust and sand from the wind.
I look to my left, and see what appears to be an injured duck struggling its way up one of the berms.
It had been a white duck, but was now grey and dirty and sooty.
It's neck was held in an unnatural position, like it had been broken. Jutting straight up from its body, then curved violently back down, its beak almost touching the ground.
The truck stopped, and I jumped out to see if I could help it.
As I got closer to it, and the berm, I noticed that the puffs I'd been seeing were in fact thousands of tiny smouldering fires just beneath the surface of the sand.
I saw too, that the duck was in fact, blind, it's eyes white and scarred.
This duck would ram its face under the sand at all these tiny smouldering fires, I guess trying to put them out, but I'm not sure.
I tried to stop it without touching it, just trying to get it to stop.
My mother jumps down from the truck, and picks the poor thing up.
We head to some sort of wood building, my eyes on the duck the entire time.
Some goose wandered by at this point, but was not anything important in the dream, I dont think.
I looked away for a bit, and when I looked back, it was dead on the ground, surrounded by tiny black and white birds that looked like woodpeckers.
My mother told me the tiny black and white birds had killed it.
She had a name for them, but I cant remember the name.
We left, the dream ended.
Mondays? Love em! Oh boy do I love Mondays! *dances around*
Hot wasabi peas and chocolate trail mix for breakfast? Hmmm. It's acceptable, I suppose. What happened to the grapefruits I'd suggested? I need to be there to supervise you.
So share about the duck. I wasn't completely satisfied with your description this morning. It could have been the snaillishness.
*bite* I'm going to go shower. I wish you were here. Very much.