Hazel woke me up 4 times last night, and it’s either that, the after effects of my first dose of the Pfizer coronavirus vaccine (yes, that shit continues apace), or a combo platter (per Abraham) to explain why I’m so tired. I barely split wood for 20 minutes before calling it.
I had to drive to Mansfield to get the shot. Apparently everyone getting the shot in Mansfield was either from Cleveland or Columbus. The world shambles along in spite of ever more cut-throat idiocy from science deniers, conspiracy theory cultists and other nationalist and populist ilk. Kinda proud of it.
Been listening to a lot of pre-Beatles rock and roll, and the weirdest jazz my mind can follow while half asleep.
I drove 6000 miles in 10 days with my son last August. We visited many deserts and saw large trees while scampering past the emergent wildfire menace. We saw sequoias, were in Death Valley two days after it recorded the hottest day on record on the planet, and hiked a few miles in mid-day heat to find an oasis. Arches, Monument Valley, Grand Canyon, Las Vegas, Death Valley, Sequoia, Malibu, Joshua Tree, White Sands.
Turned 40 in November, I think.
I remembered the following dream after the 4th time Hazel woke me up. I’ve found that walking backwards into the dream is the best way to remember as much of it as you can. Started out with me driving with a milk crate of records in the back seat of my car. I had to meet Zena, so I parked in a weedy lot and moved the records under the hatch so they’d be safe. Zena and a crew were all heading down a hill to the building where we had to go. There was a large set of terraced garden boxes we needed to climb over, something we’d done innumerable times. This time we discovered they’d been planted with all manner of spiky plants, clearly meant to discourage our path. One of the people (a childhood classmate) made a disingenuous comment about how maybe they were always there, when they were clearly freshly planted. I said something along the lines of a sarcastic “Really? Aren’t you supposed to be a farmer?” before continuing down the hill. Zena was apprehended by some authorities we did not recognize, and I dropped a sock I had been carrying. I entered the worst designed building in the world — with staircases in all 4 corners and staircases on all 4 walls — and you had to walk all 8 in the correct order to find your classroom. I apologized to the professor for being late, and she kind of desperately said she was just glad I’d finally made it back to class. Other classmates moved their old wooden desk chairs out of the way so I could fit in with them — all of them creepily relieved that I was back in the classroom. I was lucid dreaming just enough to wonder if they only exist or are animated when I dream about them. Nice, if old, philosophical question that probably arose from me watching WandaVision.
This is Hazel. Don’t be fooled. She eats her own shit every chance she gets.