Recently I’ve been dreaming about my house. Not the kind of fairyland dreams I might prefer, but dreaming nonetheless. I tend to be working on things like wall paneling, and it can seem as mundane as real life except when I wake up, I have to do everything over again. Sometimes it’s about my roof flying off in a mad tornado (boy, we get a lot of these in Southern California) or the trailer driving off without the house on, but whatever it is, it fills my sleep almost every time I close my eyes.
Last night I dreamed that I was done with my house. I knew I was done with it, and I had someone over to show it to. But somehow my house wasn’t little. It was massive, and I kept wandering around trying to figure out where my compact space had gone. It was quite a nice large house, with lots of long hallways and a big couch but the only thing I could do was worry about having to wash all of the windows. I remember feeling nervous and uncomfortable looking at the couch and kept saying ‘there’s nowhere for me to sit’.
Just before I woke up, I walked out to the big house’s bare yard to see Little Yellow in the driveway and was so happy that I could finally sit down. Isn’t the mind a funny thing?
This weekend is filled with big fluffy snowflakes that pile up quickly and make the creaky snow plow work doubletime. My roof was covered until it started melting this morning and slid off the shiny surface in the most lovely curved pattern. Ah, the things one can appreciate when one’s house is weather proof.
I honestly haven’t gotten any work at all in today. With a bunch of layers on it’s not so bad out there, but I spent my time doing research on various things I’ll have to buy soon enough. And of course watching the never ending bird feeder soap opera out the big house window.
The railing is laden with at least 6 inches of snow and the squirrels do the most ridiculous dives over themselves to try and run along it. We’ve gotten a big flock of rock pigeons crowding the feeder the last few days (this week’s drama) and Clyde is not happy about the intruders. I’ve learned not to underestimate the squirrels in these parts though. He doesn’t just run like the devil through their lunch and send them pell mell in all directions every time they land, he has also taken on the hanging bird feeder again.
This time he figured out that the food goes into the top and succeeded in prying the lid off enough to stick his fat head through. I think the manufacturers should consider relabeling their product from ‘squirrel proof design’ to a more realistic ‘squirrel engaging design’.