This morning I woke up, still furious, from a dream that my car was stolen for the umpteenth time. First thought, my car is parked, safe and unfiltched, in the garage. Second thought, a mad man is slaughtering the people of Ukraine.
I'm one of those folk who dreams every single night and who remembers the dreams in detail. In most of my dreams, I'm trying to remember which apartment I live in or where I left my purse or my car. Rarely, but sometimes I have super powers that wow onlookers. I can fly (just lean into the wind, lift my feet and soar) or swim as fast as a speed boat with big black flippers on my feet. Or discover that I'm quite a good ice skater. But most of my dreams are unpleasant and frustrating.
In reality I did have a car stolen -- twice in fact. It was my cherished 1979 Chev Malibu both times. Taken from the basement parking area of the high rise apartment building I once lived in. In the first instance, the car was recovered by the police. Abandoned with an empty fuel tank, no hub caps, a punched out steering column and my tool box gone from the trunk. I had the car repaired but not long after it was stolen again. This time, involving a high speed chase in which the police shot out a back tire before the thief crashed and wrecked the poor vehicle beyond repair. Luckily, no humans were hurt.
I loved that Malibu but unfortunately it was just too tempting for the klepto set. Now I drive boring but practical economy type cars. Easy on gas with tires small enough for me to change myself and (bonus) snubbed by thieves!!!
The living nightmare in Ukraine continues on. Beyond sad.
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Last night's substantial dump of snow.
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| One of the first returning Red-winged blackbirds. |
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| A metal feeder that this red squirrel cannot chew up. |
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| The blue jay would prefer an open type feeder. |
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A scrappy Common Redpoll dominates his feather-weight class.
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A milder-mannered Cardinal fueling up. Female Junco at right.
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Exercise awaits. I do like my new, two-handled shovel.
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