Strange and vivid dream last night. We were at our home when a low flying American Airlines jet passed over head. Moments later we heard a crash, and I raced over there while calling 911. It had crashed into St. Al’s near our house, and afew other people were there and I has having a hard time connecting with 911 so just hung up. But miraculously, people were already getting treated, including the pilots, and despite the large plane there were no fires and no one seemed killed. I looked around, and noticed the peoplel. Laying around, and started talking to the pilot, who was sitting up and getting treatment inside the plane. He was telling me that the crash had been caused as a window washer had left the plane window cracked open; he said normally window washers alert the pilot when they are washing the windows, and the pilot draws with their finger on the window that a washer is on the outside of the plane, but the washer had forgotten to notify him (or he just hadn’t marked it) and the plane took off with some of the doors or windows open so the plane lost pressure and crashed. The only fatality had been the windows washer (who’d been swept off the plane) and I remember feeling sad for the poor window washer. The dream ended there… I am no longer afraid of flying but do think sometimes how one of these small planes or jetliners could crash into houses, since they are always flying overhead. The jetliners are less worrisome (and annoying) than the small planes. Anyway, I think the dream tapped into that fear a bit – why, I don’t know. Or possibly it has to do with the helplessness of Irma slamming into the innocient people of the Carribean… With all the talk of Hurricane Irma (and rightfully so), it will be a lot less destructive to that region than the Conquistadors were!!!!
What a strange dream. We were traveling from our house to LA, but did so in a circuitous route and along the way made a pre-planned stop at the Trumps house in New Jersey. It was a small home, like a suburban condo, and honestly I was a little initimidated in my dream by Trump in the sense he was moody and I didn’t want to deal with him in a bad/ranting mood, so was interacting with kid gloves. He liked football, as did his son, and was showing me highlights of his favorite game which was the Dolphins vs. the Jets in the 1960s with a shocking drop-kick ending that gave the Jets the victory as time expired. Trump was mumbling a little as he showed this, and I wasn’t sure why it was his favorite game and didn’t want to offend him by asking him to repeat it. Then it was time to leave, we got a car to the airport, we boarded a plane and flew out for Napa where were going to meet our now grown kids’ former nanny (wth?) who was joining us for the final leg of the trip, and we were glad to not be around Trump and his delicate mood anymore. We very specifically did not talk politics with him, and I didn’t mention the presidency. It was a vivid dream. As I said at the top – very strange.
I wa with my family (especially parents) and we were at a skyscraper hotel near Disneyland that required many elevators and a ladder to get up to. I was scared, of course, by the height of it, but also worried about the possibility of a quake in California while we were so high. That was the overriding theme of the dream.
**My personal opinion only, and I live and let live*** Today is Norwegian Day, or something like that, and here in Ballard we have some big Norwegian Day parade that has been in existence as far back as I remember (1970s). I am half Norwegian, so you’d think I’d like this day, but in all honesty I don’t. When I think of Italians, I think of shouting and hugging and good food and family, when I think of Irish I think pubs and stories and green, but when I think of Norway I remember all the depressed, cranky, sarcastic Norwegians in my childhood and the cranky Norwegians I encountered on my one day trip to Oslo. Maybe it was the neighborhood, or maybe it was just the Norwegians I knew, but the Norwegian Day Parade does not conjure fond memories for me — I am much more proud of my Scottish and Irish blood (albiet it is a very small percentage of my heritage).
It is literally steamy outside. The air is reasonably heavy but the air is so filled with humidity it is hazy and almost smoky. We’ve had humidity before, but I don’t ever recall it being visible like this. Very cool. Luckily it is not too warm (70s).
Everyone says this, but you never truly believe you’ll ever be in your 40s. And you certainly never believe you will look at 31 years since your senior year in high school. It feels like yesterday, although I havent seen most of my class since graduation (I’ve skipped the reunions, although I enjoyed high school – waht is the point?). Some day soon I will (hopefully) say, I can’t believe I am in my 80s. The sad part is, when I was a teen I *never* thought I’d be as old as 40 (that was an eternity away) but now at 49 I can definitely see 80 on the horizon.
I was worried Daughter L was oversleeping today but it turns out it is senior skip day at her school :). I remember my senior skip day, 31 years ago (:() — I played golf. THat was just a few weeks after Jack Nicklaus had surprised the golf world by winning the Masters in his 40s. That was the year I loved golf so much I golfed 3 times a week (walked on as a single on Friday, Saturday and Sunday) and I was starting to play well enough that the golf coach asked if I’d consider playing golf, not realizing I was a senior. Funny how much I loved it then – I don’t feel that way at all now. I don’t know how you can have soo much passion for something then none at all.