Slipped in and out of muddled dreams this morning, most have been forgotten. Recalled last night, for instance, that I'd dreamt that I was coming into the kitchen when Ron told me Mr. Celente was dead. Also dreamt that I bumped a small Kate Bush ink drawing with my shoulder and knocked it off the wall. Ron was annoyed with my clumsiness. Then, that Tim and Ron were in the den. I was sitting in the big stuffed chair and behaving decidedly civil.
