Most of the dream concerned a late-season tomato that vanished after
I'd tediously separated the good bits from the multi-branched core,
intending to sauce a sandwich made in a loaf of bread that was round
on one end and pointed at the other. I skipped over the part where I
ate the point of the sandwich and put the remaining half-gallon size
chunk into the little black shoulder bag that is crowded when I bring
a doughnut home from church; I walked out of the room knowing that I
had done these things.

Into a very large room filled with people who had come to take part in
a bicycle ride that had been months in the planning, and now had to be
cancelled because the temperature had fallen to sixty degrees F. My
calculator makes that 28C.

I woke up thinking "Guys! Put on a SHIRT!!"

And now I'm wondering whether this has happened in real life, some
place where the normal weather is so hot that nobody *has* a shirt.

--
Joy Beeson
joy beeson at centurylink dot net
http://wlweather.net/PAGEJOY/

Sunday, 22 October 2023

Our Internet connection is still down. Dave hooked up the old antenna
so he could watch television, but the TV guides are all on line.

I thought of walking to the Boathouse to see whether there is still a
newspaper box, but the stations are in South Bend.

Brought a doughnut home from church; I had to move my reading glasses
into my pocket to make room for it in my purse. Dave has already
eaten half.

Bummer that I skipped the part where I ate the sandwich (tomatoless, I
presume); eating the core of the tomato was in full color with all
senses engaged.

Yesterday, Brightspeed was going to complete repairs by ten p.m., then
four o'clock this morning, and now ten p.m. tomorrow. This could grow
into a long post.