Got the sads today. Not very productive but stuck doing housework. My normal Hi-Ho routine isn't working very well. Normally the fall is my New Year. Usually my favourite time with warm days and cooler nights, harvest time and the expectation of change. And home made soup.

I think it would be very nice to have a cat again. Tim doesn't want one at all. He doesn't like most pets. He liked the birdies though because they were so crazy and pretty and easy to clean up after.

He comes into town tonight and leaves again in a day or two. He is going camping with two of our sons for a week. Being a good Dad.

I just feel like I am waiting for something but can't put my finger on it.

I dreamed last night about the "Kaballah". Nothing I have a thing to do with in waking time. A book about it kept coming apart in my hands. Moths had eaten it. The text in it was so faded. Indecipherable. I tried to stitch it together but couldn't figure out what thread they used on it originally. I put the threads under a "viewing glass" and it turned out to be finely twisted animal gut. "Not possible!", I thought. "Anything is possible", said a voice on the radio playing nearby.

Woke up disturbed and lonely. One of those dreams that upsets you for awhile.

Instead of whining I think I will go clean something. Maybe just make a book with some linen thread. About... Who knows!

Three sleeps 'til Michael Moore's reading.