A Dream of Mother

The cats punished me for keeping them in the house overnight. Especially from about four in the morning until seven, it was a wail-a-thon. But I got a clear scrap of dream out of it. It was especially nice since I had been dreamless for a long time, perhaps months. And it was a nice dream of mother.

I was looking down the hallway toward the bedrooms-section of the house, and the hallway was cluttered with boxes and furniture. Mother has her spirit up to do some serious housecleaning, like a spring cleaning. I do not seem to be offering to help, as I only comment, “Busy, busy, busy!” She stands straight up, looking at me and smiling, acknowledging that she sure is busy and has a lot to do.

That little bit was all of it, but it was one of my best dreams.

I think the dream was prompted, in part, by my thought of her yesterday. It was like one of my Hallway Dialogues of old. I got lost in imagining that I was engaged in a big fight with her, like our old fights, the pointless pissing matches, with angry and loud words going back and forth. When I came out of it, I realized that I was seeing and hearing her clearly, which was something I had not done, again, for a very long time, as though I might be on the verge of forgetting about her, as if that were possible. Maybe this made it easier to dream of her.

And so I find myself missing her again. I still go back and forth, lost somewhere between resentment and love.

Tuesday Morning

There was a little hope of rain last night. The weather looked funny - overcast early and gusty winds - so I kept the cats inside. But nothing happend. We are still in the heart of summer, the oven of July and August, baking away. The forecasters still call for a significant chance of rain this afternoon, but it is such a clear and sunny and hot morning, that you would be a fool to bet money on it. So, I am watering this morning, because what little landscape we have left is panting its last breaths and dying. July and August are the worst, the hottest and driest weather, killing everything, turning us to desert.

Rain?

It has started to rain. It's looking a little weak, but I am surprised that anything is actually happening.

* * *

1530

Shit, it has already dried up. One of those five-minute drizzles. But the skies are still overcast and the winds are kicking a bit, and you can hear the sky rumble a bit. We still have some reason to hope.

* * *

1610

It's raining harder now. If we could at least get an hour of this downpour, I think we would make it through the rest of this summer in some peaceful ease. If the landscape could enjoy just one good drink now!

* * *

1620

A neighbor kid next door is walking around a little in the rain. If I were ten years younger, I might do that myself.

* * *

1630

Coco is in another room, windowless, a little shy and scared. "Did you forget what it's like when it rains? What are you going to do when there is a real storm?"

Indeed, it has stopped raining, again, but thunder still crackles a bit. Ash and Sammy sit at the window looking out.

* * *

1640

Oh, oh, the sun is out. We are suppose to have another fair chance at rain this evening, but I think it is safe to say that this will not prove to be a drought-buster. I will probably feel the need to water the lawn next week. Not a real break at all.

"Tampa"

Celeste has propositioned Jack, and he didn’t say no. She has kept him after class, not for being naughty but in order to be naughty.

“Let me go lock the door.” I walked to the desk and grabbed my purse; to avoid faculty getting accidentally locked out of their classroom, the knob could only be locked with a key. The sound of the clanking metal as the bolt shut into place felt like a small, perfect kick in the center of my loins - here we were, locked up and perfectly free.

She is breaking in the boy slowly, though. She only goes topless, and they just make-out and grope a bit.

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