It has been 5 months since my mother died. Long enough to start dreaming again.
But not long enough to get the house in order, apparently. I woke up this morning to a sink full of dishes. (That's the common expression, but actually in my house it is a dishpan on the shelf overflowing with dishes, where "overflowing" is used metaphorically.) I remember washing dishes at several odd times during the past few days. Perhaps extra times washing don't have the full effect if you skip the regular washings.
Those dreams: In past nights they have sometimes included my mother, but last night the ones I remember recapitulated my trip biking the East River and Baird Creek parkways yesterday. (See the Parchive for the pictures.) So far as I know I did not dream about mechanical problems with my bike in Danz Park and crossing University Avenue. No, I picked out the pleasant parts of the trip to dream about, but to dream about with puzzlement and uncertainty. That probably has little to do with Baird Creek and much to do with changing life.
Which is a redundant expression, much like "irresponsible 20-year-old".
I biked around the east side of Green Bay yesterday, but I did not attend the St. Brendan's Navigators group. The reason, the big reason, is that I biked alone and the group is (redundantly again) a group.
That's the reason. The excuse was that I was working on Jan Amos Comenius. That's truly what I was working on last evening, but not really the reason that I stayed home. Life, and not only Comenius' book, is a Labyrinth.