Sunday Cultivation

It’s Sunday night and I’ve done little blog activity today. That was not how relationships were supposed to work. Relationships needed cultivation–just like gardens. Maybe that’s why my gardens ended up as patches of weeds.

What “they” didn’t want you to know. Why was this still a popular headline? Maybe there were more conspiracy theorists than I realized?

Sonic drive-in restaurant franchises are offering dill pickle slushies. For those tired of the usual sweet-syrupy offerings. I happened to like Kosher dills–the crunchier the better. I’ve heard that drinking dill pickle juice, after perspiring from heavy exercise, replaced lost body salts.

Recurring dreams: Last night, I experienced a varied version of a recurring dream. I was back at college–in Marston Hall. I looked for a seat, most were filled. None of the students were familiar to me. I found a seat, left my books. Went up front to talk to the professor. When I returned, my things were gone. Nobody fessed up to anything. Just like that–in a finger snap, the dream ended.

Recurring dream #2:  My car was left parallel parked on a city street.  It was a small town with lots of free parking spots.  I returned later, from some non-specific activity, and couldn’t find my car.  I doubted myself.  Where had I parked?  Had it been two blocks in the other direction?  Cars owned in the past were also featured.  My black 4 door Ford sedan, or the blue, two-door sporty, compact sedan, with mag wheels.