So, lessee... Scott Brown got elected, Dems lost their heads, spines and balls, my computer went kablooey, Aunty Flow arrived, and then there was the dream.
I had a hard time getting to sleep last night. Mild cramps, y'see, just noticeable enough to keep me awake. So I read for a few hours. Finally drifted off in the happy knowledge that I'd get at least four hours of good, solid sleep.
Or not.
I had one of those hyper-vivid dreams with most senses engaged. I was driving around Hawaii, and for some reason had decided to watch a volcano erupt. Those who know me realize this is an unlikely state of affairs - I have a phobia, and the idea of standing close enough to watch lava go zipping by my feet is right out. I'm not a vulcanologist for a reason. Yet there I was, driving right up and parking within spitting distance of an eruption.
Which had seemed like a good idea until the volcano started putting out rather more lava than expected, and cutting off escape routes. Cut me off from my car, it did, and so there I was, scrambling around looking for a safe place to stand, wondering if my poor auto would survive the experience.
At one point, as I was scrambling down a hillside path, I saw a stream of lava go cascading over a former waterfall. That was a particularly awe-inspiring part of the dream.
For some reason, there were a lot of really annoying lechers in this dream. I spent almost as much time fending off unwanted advances as I did outrunning lava flows.
At some point, I reached a town, and ran into a salty old Park Ranger who was absolutely, utterly fearless. One of those outdoorsy, frontier-type older women with the gravelly voice, leathery skin, and tendency to scoff at any suggestion that anything might be wildly dangerous. When she found out why I was on foot, she just sort of half-smiled and dragged me off to collect her off-road vehicle, some jury-rigged oddity that looked like a three-wheel motorcycle welded to an industrial cart. In this, she assured me, we could get up the mountain and fetch my car, just as long as the flows hadn't completely taken out the road.
White-knuckle adventures, which I don't rightly remember, ensued. We were chased by a few flows, though.
By the time we got back up there, the volcano was putting on quite a show, with huge fountains of lava spraying from its flanks. And the road was gone. No matter, the ranger said. I'd parked in a place where the car should be relatively safe, it being high ground, and when the flows cooled, I could just drive right over them. Then she took me to a run-down motel where we could watch the show in relative safety. We met up with another of her ranger companions there, a somewhat more cautious woman who seemed like a relief after someone who thought nothing of heading straight into crazy danger.
We'd decided to watch from inside, as the heat and cinders were getting a bit intense. And there we were, safe behind glass with all the other watchers fled, and the fearless ranger outside on the porch, when a series of gawdawful explosions began. I could feel the ground shaking. And then volcanic bombs started raining down all round, and took out half the roof. By the porch.
Fearless ranger lady, I feared, was dead. But when masonry and roof beams stopped falling, slightly-sensible ranger lady sort of laughed as we scrambled for the porch to assess the damage. She wasn't worried about her friend, who, she said, wouldn't let a little thing like this harm her. And lo, she had not. She was sitting under the one part of the porch roof on that side still intact, with fallen supports and sagging roof all round, smoking a cigarette and staring at the mountain as if daring it to try again.
A few seconds later, we heard a pathetic little cry, and there was a shaggy puppy crawling out of the forest, terrified. Fearless ranger lady strode out, scooped him up, and we all three went inside to clean the poor thing off, while the mountain started a fresh round of bomb-throwing. And at this point, I woke up, panting as if I'd really just gone through all of this chaos, explosions ringing in my ears, visions of lava dancing in my head, and found I'd been asleep for just over an hour. It took me an additional hour to get over the excitement and fall back to sleep, by which time I less than two hours before I had to be up and getting ready for work.
Argh.
And I'd call it a nightmare, only it was more exciting than terrifying. Oh, sure, there were scary bits, but for the most part, it seemed like a grand adventure.
Still not going to Hawaii to watch volcanoes erupt.
Then, tonight, after a long nap, I tried turning on the computer only to discover it's still having issues and wouldn't boot up. We're past that for now, but who knows what the future will bring?
So that's the state o' affairs in the Hunter household. I'm ready for a nice stretch of boredom now, please.
Well, let me tell you about this past week here at Hypertwin Manor... or, more specifically, one particular day (this past Wednesday).
ReplyDelete[Note for the squeamish: do not read.]
That was the day the plumbers came out, cleaned out the pipes again, discovered that the pipe-cleaner they had been using was only cleaning out our pipes for a few yards because our lines jag off at an angle where they connect to the trunk pipe (for lack of a better term), and their hose wanted to go straight.
So they dug down about 5 feet and found the pipe and put in another cleanout so they could force the hose to go the right way. And then they cleaned some more.
And some more, and some more, and some more. They cleared away much nastiness.
I need to fill in some background at this point: up until the night before, the toilets had still been flushable, as long as you kept it down to 2-3 flushes a day -- but that night someone flushed the upstairs toilet, and nastiness came up in the downstairs toilet (almost but not quite overflowing it)... and didn't go away by the next morning, or by that afternoon.
So they were clearing stuff out of the pipes, and kept asking if the toilet had unblocked, and it kept not being unblocked.
Then finally we heard the kitchen sink gurgle... but the toilet was still stopped up... so we thought "ok, maybe it just needs a little plunging now". And indeed, that was all it took -- and the load of nastiness therein followed the rest of the nastiness they had already cleaned out, to trouble us no more.
In summary: we totally had some serious shit go down last week.
*Woozle is hit by rotten tomatoes and other unspeakable things*
...and there's actually more to the story, but I think I'll just finish up by agreeing that some boredom would be very nice -- as long as it's our boredom and not someone else's... e.g. the boredom of a 17-y.o. autistic boy towards the end of a second 3-day-weekend in a row for no apparent reason. (The first one was MLK Day; what the freep is the excuse for not having school tomorrow?)
Weird dream. Untenable plumbing problems. What's next?
ReplyDeleteI drove past the recommended mileage for an oil change last week. Does that count?
ReplyDelete