Wednesday, March 29, 2006


Sleep still is noncommittal. Last night I dreamed I was in a dark and murky house of mysterious and ghostly feeling, searching for a bony child lost in its bottomless depths. I woke to the silhouettes of the night and superimposed dreamrats climbing through the blinds.


I kicked my feet a little and squinted my dreameyes. NO, RATS! GO ON NOW! They say you have to stop, turn and try to hug the dreammonster who chases you so I rolled over and mulled on hugging a house of bad feeling till it finally occurred to me to sink my nails into it and pop it like a day old balloon.

Imagery has power. My balloon popped and I was almost blinded back awake like into daylight from a cave, rolled over and tried to turn the landscape into a dreampicnic till eventually I dozed off.

I guess if you POP the scene you should have an idea of what is coming next. I found I was simply staring into the sun. Once my eyes adjusted to the glare I was fast asleep.


The last time I went snowboarding was January 18th, 2004. The tag is still swinging from the grommet on my snowpants. I curse this living and all I have abandoned for these choices.

This morning I cut the old tag off, and with a fresh coat of wax headed up to the Sierra Nevada mountains. On a mountain with the uphill capacity for 17,905 skiers per hour we suffered no lines and no collisions. Ohhh it was fun. It took me a few runs to find my legs again after two long years away from the slopes (two runs, one and a half really). I made a digital mini-movie of my mother skiing, ate half a sandwich and never once fell from the lift. I always count that as a blessing.

And tomorrow, back up to the mountain. But tonight my mother made me valarian root tea and I am practically asleep on the keyboard. I count that too as a blessing.

xoxo HI!! John and Anita xoxo

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