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I dreamt last night of there being too many new appliances in my home. I noticed a metal shelf from my utility room out of place in the downstairs living area, and checked on the space where it should have been. I discovered the entire space had been impossibly reorganize with additional freezers and moved fridges.


I opened one of familiar fridge and found my stash of baklava, a treat I really enjoy, but when I went to eat one they became small broken fragments instead. I also looked within one of the new freezers, it was empty.


When I asked my wife where they came from and how the room had changed, her response was muffled and I asked again. She said something different and I still couldn't understand her. I asked 3 more times, all the while apologizing because I could not hear her.


I also recall at one point in my dream trying to floss my teeth and being unable to get my molars correctly. I kept fraying and getting blood all over the floss. That was a bizarre bit.


I feel better this morning after my melancholy of last night. I am going to attempt to eat better today and I am going to attempt to make a nice vegetable pie for supper. My mom had mentioned yesterday about perhaps making a hamburger soup. It isn't really hamburger, so much as a soup with ground beef in it. I've always liked it, so I might make a smaller version of my pie to go with it.


I slept well enough last evening; I was tired and indulged in a few too many sweets before bed, I just love baklava so much. I need to learn how to make it myself though, because 8 dollars for a little container is very expensive. I know where to get really fresh stuff from a local restaurant, this guy fled Syria 7 or 8 years ago and he's made himself a pillar of the gourmet foodie sector of our expanding restaurant scene in Sault Ste. Marie. They make the best and freshest baklava, like tart sized ones too! They are like twenty dollars though. I settle for the eight dollar bits, but honestly I crave the good stuff every other month and treat myself.


A nice aspect of my new life here with my parents is the slow morning and the slow beginnings. I honestly hated the hassle in the morning with my wife and kids. Always the same nonsense and worry. It really wore me out. Out here there are no expectations of me and I am simply allowed to exist without a dagger of Damocles hanging over me.



We all need to begin somewhere. I like to think that since w...


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