I was gonna post something borying boring about my school schedule and wine whine about my so-called life but then I opened an email from Jane about a dream she had, and it is much more interesting and I even found a picture that kind of goes with it, with Jane in the kayak supervising Mouse and Liz in a dead fish/plastic bag recovery operation. Here’s Jane’s dream:

we’re all at the cabin and I look out the window at what appears to be a shark fin, then it becomes clear that it’s actually a sailfish, and Mouse has caught it while out swimming. with her bare hands. and she’s coming into the shore. I yell to everyone in the cabin and we all troop down to the beach, which conveniently has been furnished with a covered table area. so she gets to shore, puts the fish on the table and we all proceed to eat bits directly from it. (we’ve all turned into sushi eaters and it wasn’t bloody, or gross at all.) so it was an exciting day at the beach for all involved, AND while I was eating I turned and said “Mouse, is this the first fish you’ve caught bare-handed?” [Editor’s note: er actually, in the dream, Jane used the name on Mouse’s birth certificate and was amazed that Mouse didn’t yell at her!] Oh, and while we were in the midst of getting the fish to the table Jim was standing at the waters edge watching the entire scene.

this dream may have been caused in part because of a story Bubs and Harry told me last night – before I was born I guess – everyone was at the cabin and there was going to be an eclipse. the best way to see it was out on the lake so everyone piled into the large Regenstreif canoe and pushed off. but Tigger wanted to be included and swam out to the canoe, which had about 2 inches of freeboard above water, and many many people in it. and no extra room for a dog. 😉

I personally have vague memories of being in that canoe that night and having my dog swim out with us. Tigger was a fantastic swimmer. She would chase sea gulls way out until the water was over her head and my head and Grandroobly’s head and he was six feet tall! The Commander and all of us would be standing on the beach ineffectively yelling, “Tigger! Tigger!”

P.S. Speaking of hearing stories about stuff that happened before you were born: Fins, did you realize that Donald Manson Finlayson, of Saskatchewanian fur-trapping fame and a great-grandfather of my generation of Fins (I guess that would make him G0), was 6’5″? Some of us are taller than others but that was a bit astounding.

This entry was posted on Friday, January 12th, 2007 at 2:15 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.