Dreams, and silly people.
Thanks for all your kind words, etc, after the passing of my grandma. Hearts to all.
I'm all aloney on my owney in the office this morning and not really sure what to do with myself. I may take a bat to the fax machine any moment now though.
The other day we were exiting the train at our stop (it was super-crowded, and had been standing room only the whole way home). Everyone poured out onto the waiting area, including one guy who was being super-impatient while talking on his cell-phone, all important. Anyway, he charged through the crowd, talking loudly on his cell-phone, and ran directly into a garbage can, and fell on it. The whole scene quite made my day.
Last night I had a dream where this girl and I (and she was some combination of childhood friend and stranger) decided that my grandmother had been poisoned, and we were going to find out the truth. (FYI: my grandma died of natural causes). Anyway, under the cover of night, nameless girl and I trotted over to the cemetary (which was actually my parents front yard, not the Arthur ON cemetary) and set about digging up the coffin. With our hands. The ground was like moss, and it was really easy to dig up. Luckily, the coffin was about 6 inches down, rather than 6 feet. We found the coffin and uncovered it, but it looked a bit different from the one my grandma had actually been buried in. Nonetheless, we opened it. There was my grandfather, a grinning skeleton. He was wearing nothing but a blue hat, which can only be described as a cross between a blue cloth sou'wester, a la Paddington Bear, and a pirate hat. Above his head in the coffin were several old, empty liquor bottles, and two hands of poker, and some chips (not Lays, poker chips). His right hand appeared to be reaching for one of the bottles, and he seemed to be grinning directly at us. But it was more charming than frightening. My dad came along, and saw what we were doing, and it didn't seem to bother him. He looked at the old photographs strewn around the edges of the coffin (right where the lid meets the box), and started telling me and un-named friend what was going on in each, sharing his memories.
Well, it was late, and someone was going to catch us, so we decided to seal grandpa back up and make it look like nothing had happened. It was too late to really try tackling grandma's coffin, and I had to pee in real life, so I was waking up and never got back there.
I'm all aloney on my owney in the office this morning and not really sure what to do with myself. I may take a bat to the fax machine any moment now though.
The other day we were exiting the train at our stop (it was super-crowded, and had been standing room only the whole way home). Everyone poured out onto the waiting area, including one guy who was being super-impatient while talking on his cell-phone, all important. Anyway, he charged through the crowd, talking loudly on his cell-phone, and ran directly into a garbage can, and fell on it. The whole scene quite made my day.
Last night I had a dream where this girl and I (and she was some combination of childhood friend and stranger) decided that my grandmother had been poisoned, and we were going to find out the truth. (FYI: my grandma died of natural causes). Anyway, under the cover of night, nameless girl and I trotted over to the cemetary (which was actually my parents front yard, not the Arthur ON cemetary) and set about digging up the coffin. With our hands. The ground was like moss, and it was really easy to dig up. Luckily, the coffin was about 6 inches down, rather than 6 feet. We found the coffin and uncovered it, but it looked a bit different from the one my grandma had actually been buried in. Nonetheless, we opened it. There was my grandfather, a grinning skeleton. He was wearing nothing but a blue hat, which can only be described as a cross between a blue cloth sou'wester, a la Paddington Bear, and a pirate hat. Above his head in the coffin were several old, empty liquor bottles, and two hands of poker, and some chips (not Lays, poker chips). His right hand appeared to be reaching for one of the bottles, and he seemed to be grinning directly at us. But it was more charming than frightening. My dad came along, and saw what we were doing, and it didn't seem to bother him. He looked at the old photographs strewn around the edges of the coffin (right where the lid meets the box), and started telling me and un-named friend what was going on in each, sharing his memories.
Well, it was late, and someone was going to catch us, so we decided to seal grandpa back up and make it look like nothing had happened. It was too late to really try tackling grandma's coffin, and I had to pee in real life, so I was waking up and never got back there.