I’m supposed to be editing Eastlight right now. Having found that I’ve been mis-using coordinating conjunctions, I’m searching on each one and checking its usage. It is tedious work to say the least. But the dreams that started off the year, with the Moth Box, having stopped and are begging to be written about.

I’ll start with Sunday night. I dreamt that Lesley, Forrest and Jordan (my god-daughter) had moved their life to the same sort of rural existence as my own upbringing. Forrest had decided to stop being a highway engineer and was actually now a highway patrolman. My own father had been a park ranger. Their hats were the same, wide brimmed, round with these yellow tassels that draped after running around the top in a circle. Something in my past is wanting discussion. At issue was Jordan, who I was babysitting and who needed to be fed. This became a mad dash from place to place in the woods as I carried her and kept tripping. Each time I fell I caught her safely but there was a snake blocking my path. They were often twisted and blue, small or large but they were ubiquitous. Each time I recovered my footing and had to try and mix her formula, with the precision of temperature you must use with a baby. This kind of stress dream usually never has a resolution for me. And neither did this one. It was dashing from pitfall to snake until I awoke.

That was Sunday night. Yesterday was Monday and this was different. Brian’s started on the daunting task of cleaning the closets, preparing us for another move and looking at what we own that should be donated or gotten rid of. There is an amazing used bookstore here called Books Unlimited. It is a family owned business and the people who run it are incredible. If you are in Denver, check them out. I’ve always thought of the place as a trove, where hidden treasure can be found if you’re just willing to do a little digging. In my dream they’d moved to Fort Collins, a good distance north of here. We made the trek and the place was busy. The thing of interest was the layout. The store had chosen a space that shared a plus sign layout with three other shops. The square that joined them was a massive gas fireplace where bright flames roared through a large framed sized window. It filled the store with warmth and red light. The space itself was twisted, with small nooks and tables where readers sat with coffee and texts. I ran into my ex, tapped him on the shoulder and we said hello but nothing else. We dug into the cabinets and shelves of the books. I found a Christmas coffee mug my mother would love. But the longer I looked at it I realized that it portrayed the hideous mask of a green ice monster squished together with a snowman. Then I opened another cabinet and within were toys, pristine, from my childhood. I suggested to the shopkeeper that he sell them on Ebay and make a fortune but instead he gave them to me at a steal of a price.