Saturday Morning in Linden Hills

I am a brilliant guy, especially when no one is watching.  This is especially true while I am asleep.  Last night’s dream will be hard to top, but me being me, I’ll best them the next time I sleep.  (I choose to say whatever I please.)

IMAG1160_zps48c92a15Take last night.  In one dream a couple falls in love on a plane.  The pilot is a bit of an eccentric, however, and decides he is going to back into the gate at the terminal and so he turns the plane around at 30,000 feet and starts flying backwards.  As the plane approaches the runway — weaving through skyscrapers and highway overpasses — the couple looks out the plane’s review window, where they are sitting together, and realize if the plane crashes, which appears inevitable, they are done.  The sequence ends with a woman painting portraits of the couple.  She is working on the woman’s portrait.  And it is a beautiful painting, a gorgeous painting…and that’s what I want to take credit for.

Who really was painting that portrait?

It was my dream after all, isn’t that right?  Everyone has dreams about planes flying baackwards through a city to the airport, but who has dreamed such a beautiful painting before?  Leonardo de Vinci?  Monet?  Frida Kahlo?  Rembrandt?  Grandma Moses?  George Waters?  No…me.  Your tour guide, Uncle Fracas.  And you were not there to see it.  Disappointing.  But trust me, it exists.  I saw it.

Don't forget the small things

Don’t forget the small things

This post really isn’t about Saturday morning in Linden Hills.  It is true, I am in Linden Hills and it is Saturday morning, but I haven’t yet been out.  It appears to be a gorgeous morning, though, just a bit of icy mist and a bright hazy sun.  The view to the lake through  bare branches calms the nerves nicely this time of the year.

Perhaps later I will restock on some basic supplies.  Cinnamon rolls, coffee, and a late breakfast of soft boiled eggs at Tilia. Although I just whipped up a satisfying omelette of my very own.  Eggs, cream, spinach turkey, and cheese washed down with a mix of orange and grapefruit juice.  It is hard to top, although Tilia indeed does come very, very close.

(I should check in at Tilia and see if I stopped in when I was sleep walking the other night…)

No, I’m not quite sure what Saturday in Linden Hills will bring.  Not even sure what I should do next.  I’ll have to consult my post-it note.  I put things on post-it notes, usually very basic things, so I won’t forget them.   Then I post the note where I won’t miss it.  It is a good system, if you remember to pay attention and follow through.

Let’s check the list.  What’s first?  Boil Potatoes.  Well, it is a good thing I have the list.  I would have forgotten that one.  Don’t forget the small things.  You never know what might come from them.  They might seed a beautiful dream.

What else is on that list?


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