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Uncomfortable sleeping conditions led to much waking last night: room too warm, moving air too cold, elbows and knees too unhappy. On the up side I retain clear memories of several dreams. I was at L and WT's place with both their daughters, arguing that (unplaceable male character from Austen novel) was the best archetypical protag because both kind and (some other quality). I'm afraid that one came from a tumblr post on what constitutes a himbo ie someone who is beefy, kind, *and* dumb. Beefy and dumb is a jock, beefy and kind is a hunk, kind and dumb is a normal guy.
This segued into a dream set in ancient China, accompanying an army marching into new territory, except new territory was a narrow road lined on both sides with shacks or lean-tos built wall to wall with no spaces between, that went on and on for miles. Inhabitants hid on the roofs. We reached a boundary, otherwise unmarked, and our general was pleased to discover that there were apples in abundance to feed the troops with.
After which I was in a cozy murder mystery with a white haired old lady as sleuth more or less, which took place at our family home and ended with little old lady preparing a powder to put in the food that was being prepared out on the driveway, in order IIRC to poison the local squire.
Meanwhile the heat has subsided to merely warm and brought out the forsythia and the sakura on the south facing streets. Went to the library for the Craft Sequence book I don't have and started it in the Ninetails coffee shop. Instant time travel: Gladstone belongs firmly to the Before Times when I was still able-bodied enough to bike and work. However I note that my glacial recovery has reached a point where I can occasionally walk into a store without the walker. I limp and my back still spasms occasionally, but it's more than I could do six months ago.
M's birthday party next door. There was a chronically whining little kid who was getting on my nerves- 'someone pay attention to that toddler please'- until it occurred to me that it was probably one of those noise-maker whistles, the kind that shoots out a rolled up paper.
This segued into a dream set in ancient China, accompanying an army marching into new territory, except new territory was a narrow road lined on both sides with shacks or lean-tos built wall to wall with no spaces between, that went on and on for miles. Inhabitants hid on the roofs. We reached a boundary, otherwise unmarked, and our general was pleased to discover that there were apples in abundance to feed the troops with.
After which I was in a cozy murder mystery with a white haired old lady as sleuth more or less, which took place at our family home and ended with little old lady preparing a powder to put in the food that was being prepared out on the driveway, in order IIRC to poison the local squire.
Meanwhile the heat has subsided to merely warm and brought out the forsythia and the sakura on the south facing streets. Went to the library for the Craft Sequence book I don't have and started it in the Ninetails coffee shop. Instant time travel: Gladstone belongs firmly to the Before Times when I was still able-bodied enough to bike and work. However I note that my glacial recovery has reached a point where I can occasionally walk into a store without the walker. I limp and my back still spasms occasionally, but it's more than I could do six months ago.
M's birthday party next door. There was a chronically whining little kid who was getting on my nerves- 'someone pay attention to that toddler please'- until it occurred to me that it was probably one of those noise-maker whistles, the kind that shoots out a rolled up paper.