A dream and a nightmare...

I dreamed, as I often do, that I am back in Ann Arbor again: the return of the saint that no one recognizes... the protector of the neighborhood, Sugarbush Park (which had no formal name when we roamed the woods in 1972), and of course Thurston Pond and the school. This was our playground: the woods, the pond, the birds, fish, turtles, trails, canoes, snow, ice, rain, everything that was life existed there in Thurston Pond. The changing of the seasons.

But the dream, or nightmare, was about being in the old neighborhood as well as the downtown AA in some taller buildings and shops as is the downtown today, but I go in the Houtman's backdoor and then I knock. I call out for the Houtman;s, I might even say, "Sue? Anyone here?" A middle aged lady comes around and says they don't live here. But your chairs are on the covered porch, so I have business there and go to check. It is raining out.

I look for a hotel to stay in, probably the one near Bolgus' old place, the Red something. Then I wake up and ask myself, truth or nightmare? Yes, I know.