Warm early in the day. Hot later, then. So I'd better do some mowing and gardening now. Flip-flop my timetables. Stay in in the afternoon, drink iced coffee, try to scribble.
Sitting on the back step with Greta. The other animals are in the front part of the house with my brother. So it's just the two of us in the first light of morning. Greta's happy we are peaceful and alone together. She purrs and rubs her fangs on my fingers. Hunches to gnaw a nearby blade of grass. I'm mentally tracing the route I'll take with the mower later. Clearing more paths through and around the herb garden. Then in with shears to clip away the grasses and weeds in the beds.
A great splash startles us both and I see a deer leap up the far creek bank. He stands stock still then and stares at me over the tops of the willows. He's a stag, his antlers will have four points, at least, on each side (I'm not wearing my glasses), but they're still in heavy velvet. He must have been standing at the bottom of the herb garden the whole time and I hadn't noticed. I'm glad the dogs aren't out. He's so beautiful, backlit behind the glimmering green. He moves slowly away now, upstream, and vanishes behind the brush.
Don't know what to make of my goofy dream. My grandfather was working hard on the farm, and in his few spare hours volunteered to build homes for the homeless, like a lower-class Jimmy Carter. And somehow then he also secretly owned many houses (bought decades ago when homes were cheap), groups of cabins, a big farmhouse with secret passages. All miles away, in woods, vacant, waiting. I was shoving a huge heavy round oaken table inches at a time down the gravel road to put in the home I would claim.
I heard then, but did not see, a train passing to the south of me, from east to west, obscured by dense woods. Then a loud grinding metallic clangor as of derailment, then silence. In the east two blue whales fell from the sky and landed in an empty field--whump, whump--and lay there breathing, unharmed. Well, this is confusing! Some dreammaking part of me is dissatisfied with the logic, and so they become enormous sea lions, still blue. Too ungainly to maneuver, they simply lie there, shifting their great bulks.
Make of that what you will.
Breakfast, now, and then bread work. A dozen or so new plants are on their way in the mail, and I must clear a place for them.
9:03:26 AM 
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