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02:00 - 15.06.07
Time Stands till
The dream I recalled from last night left me perplexed. I was living in a home similar, but not the same, as the one I live in now. Difficult to articulate those differences though. This home seemed full of light and was filled with a very different type of energy. Much more activity too with people popping in and out sort of like quantum particles. Why have doors, eh? A man arrived at the house saying that he had been hired to fix the windows and paint the walls. Oh happy day. However, I would be the only person who had the authority to do any hiring and I knew I hadn't requested his services. He looked a lot like my favorite astrologer. Much as I admire his writing skills and sense of humour I'm not certain I'd let him, or anyone else, practice their untested carpentry skills on my home. The music of Jethro Tull was playing throughout the scenario and that added an even greater sense of outre to the mix. Hmmmmmmmmm. Pied piper? Where were the children? Anyway the tradesman - whoever he was - brought in what appeared to be a magical ladder. Just place it where the work was to be done and, la voila!, the painting was done faster than the eye could see. La voila! again and the tradesman, standing in midair on that ladder, was lifting those old windows out of their frames effortlessly. The new windows, floating on a gentle breeze, were arriving from outside the house then fitting themselves in to the existing frames. Alice had returned to Wonderland I guess. The new windows seemed to be of a nature that implied greater durability as well as enhancing the clarity of the sunlight pouring through. Almost as though they were sentient by choosing what and how to channel energies. Don't understand the story, but it felt quite serendipitous and whimsical. I'll take positive emotions and events from wherever they arise. Went out in the mid-afternoon to mow the grass in the backyard. The one male neighbour was out on his balcony before the first row was cut, calling for his wife to bring him a beer while he lit a cigarette. Pretty boring life if watching me cut the grass is entertaining. It had grown quite high since it's last shearing - all that rain, I guess. It was still drizzling when I went outside today, but there is no break in the showers in the long range forecast. Yes, I know dear diary, that is often dead wrong, but if I wait much longer I would need a machete in places. My poor lilacs were shredded in the last couple of downpours, but my roses are just starting to bloom. Parts of the cherry tree seem to be regenerating too. New blossoms even if it is late in the season for them. Not much else to say for myself - just sending out more resumes. Some truly interesting IT news again and written so the instructions were clear even for non-hardware types like me. Some social commentary that I found quite fascinating too. My Dad called just after I finished mowing the lawn. He seemed to want to chat about politics. We chewed over the local scene, where a lot is bubbling under the surface right now. Revolution maybe, and about time. In this country, by the way, we use ballots not bullets, so you don't need to duck dear diary. Time for bed now though. Maybe the mystery of the maze and the windows is the same and about to be revealed. Ask the Sphinx. That was a good movie by the way, but I digress. Good night dear diary.
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