I have vivid dreams, sometimes getting into bizarre, impossible situations with aa wild variety of peole past and present and sometimes writing a novel in my dreams but of course the next morning I don't remember those details and twists of plot. It interests me that in the midst of a dream, bits of reality intrude and I can say to myself, "No, that's not true." I often find myself cleaning--a messy kitchen, a dirty house, whatever, rarely my own home. I'll have to look into the significance of that, but it generally takes me a bit to transition from my world of sleep and whatever dream world I was in to the real world. A friend calls it "getting my happy on" and says she gets it by the time she has her first cup of coffee. Today, though, I felt like I ought to burst into that song from Oklahoma! "Oh, what a beautiful day!" I felt self-confident, strong, skinny (well that may have been delusional), and like all was right with my world. Wish I could bottle that feeling! Not sure where it came from but probably a variety of things.
I corresponded last night with a MacBain descendant in Alberta that I'd never heard of--I wrote him because a family tree he put on Ancestry.com has been most helpful, and he answered immediately. At one point, he said he thought the MacBains, at least his branch, were in Glengarry by the Uprising. I thought he meant Scotland and wondered if I should abandon Inverness, change the itinerary and go to Glengarry, which is near Glasgow and doesn't sound nearly as interesting. Then he wrote back and said he meant Glengarry, Ontario, not to give up on Inverness. We are both apparently stymied by the same man, father of both our great-great-grandfathers (they were brothers!). What fun to find this hidden trail to follow.
This morning I went to Central Market and splurged, really splurged, to fill that lobster longing I wrote about a few days ago. They had lobster tails for $13.95 and I thought I could afford that, but when I asked I was told yes, they had been previously frozen. I have a tentative relationship with shellfish, can't eat shrimp at all, and have found that I can eat fresh lobster and crab but not frozen or canned. The fish lady offered to steam a lobster and take it out of the shell, which she did quite quickly while I waited. (I can do it but I rarely get the claw pieces out in one big piece as she did.) Please do not ask about the cost, but my lobster salad tonight was delicious--a bit of celery and green onon, lemon juice, dry mustard and mayo, all lightly used so it wouldn't hide the lobster taste. And there's enough left for tomorrow night---shhh, dont tell Jordan who will probably show up right at lunchtime, after church, tomorrow. She gets tuna salad.
Jacob and I ate al fresco--a picnic on the porch. I had given him his choice of going out for either spaghetti or tacos and he said he wanted Mexican, but after I got changed he said, "I want to eat here. You can take those clothes off." So he had chicken nuggets and I had my lobster with hearts of palm and hummus. The breeze was just beginning to show signs of the cold front we expect tomorrow and now the air feels much chillier.
Jacob had a big day--a program by Kids Who Care in the morning, errands, a little boy's birthday party in the afternoon--he arrived with green hair and a fish on his cheek, which he announced he was wearing to church in the morning. Unfortunately he smeared his hand down his face and the fish transfered itself, not intact, to his hand. As I helped him clean it, he said, "I am just so angry!"
At 7:30 I was in the family room, reading while he watched TV. Left to come write an e-mail, came back at 7:50 and he was sound asleep, fully clothed. I have two concerns here: I'll have to get him up to pee, and he may wake up at six. Heaven help me!
I guess I'll make full use of my free evening and go to bed early just in case.