Guelph

Not a single call last night at BNVC. I lay down in the doctor's office on the narrow futon couch with Grrgles by my side; my trusty sidekick. Not until I turned off the Noma parabolic heater with its rotating head bright as daylight in the middle of June did I finally fall asleep. I was back in Guelph, younger, lighter, happier. Summertime, living in an old house that originally was quite dumpy, downtrodden but had been renovated by someone in recent years to a pristeen kind of antiqued glory and I was living there with my spouse (who I can't say but it wasn't Danny Mudrick or anyone I could identify). We had 3 rooms; two on the main floor opposite each other and one in the attic. The attic room could only be accessed by pushing up on a trap door and hoisting onself onto the top landing which, today would be an impossibility but you could pummel on the trapdoor and now a mechanism would allow the door to lift and a step to emerge against which you could park a secure modern age aluminum folding stepladder and this way, very efficiently access the top floor. The top floor room was large and roomy and airy and a had a gable window that faced a field of flowers. It was this room I gave to Habibble who had come up from Georgia with her mate of a hundred years; Karol. Or Karolchick which we liked to call him in the old European way.
Into this room she and he parked themselves. It was so good to see her; she too was younger and fresher and less timeworn than in the real. In this dream she was an accomplished equestrienne and she told me that she was going to really teach me to ride. (I can't ride worth a shit) There were only 2 keys between the 4 of us; one of which I had given to the renter or sublessee of the middle room opposite ours; a dour tall pale guy name unknown who I remember from the real past was a small plane pilot who lived in the house on Hampton Avenue for a short while. Ahh the joys of coop living; the people who come and go. What is this dream about?