Like A Fox...

Grand-daughter Logan, my favorite redhead in the multiverse, paid us a visit.  Four months old now and doing great, standing (with help), trying to hold her bottle, babbling and squealing like a little monkeybird.

Speaking of redheads, Marcy & I saw a fox yesterday.  We had dropped Derek off at Stanley's Driving School and had camped out just a bit down Bridgetown Road at Zen and Now Coffee Shop to spend time rather than make multiple trips.  We were heading back to pick him up, waiting for the light to change at the intersection of Glenway, Bridgetown, and Race when out of the corner of my eye I spotted the critter running in front of the car wash there.  Big bushy tail as large as its body streaming behind as it scampered on those skinny legs, pointy snout leading the way.  "Holy crap, it's a fox!  Look quick Marcy!"  It ran around the car wash into a parking lot behind the adjacent building and paused there.  The light changed and we had to move with the rush-hour traffic.  We picked Derek up and then we saw a deer on the way home, but we really expected that one, because we take the back roads that skirt around Mt. Airy Forest and it was getting dusky and in early November.  It was a doe starting to dart from the brush at the side of the road, probably being wooed by a randy buck.  I was hyper-alert and honked the horn and she reversed back into the woods.

Signs, portents and omens surround us.  I've been remembering a lot of dreams lately, too.  Last week in "reality" we got a letter from the bank that notified us that we were too broke to qualify for a mortgage modification via the Making Home Affordable program.  No surprise, really, we're just working through all the steps of the program as a delaying tactic.  That night I dreamed that I was in a car that I used to own, somehow perched on a window ledge high in the Fifth Third Bank building.  In my dream I considered jumping from my precariously balanced car to a nearby structure, a pipe or something, but it was just too far, too high to risk the long fall.  Then someone, maybe Derek, appeared in the car with me and somehow drove it from the bank building to safety.  What the heck does that mean?  Last night in "reality" I stayed up late and rewrote my resume and applied for a job at Children's Hospital.  I went to sleep and dreamed that a nurse wanted to take my temperature so she stuck an old-fashioned mercury thermometer in my mouth, but it was cracked and it shattered inside my mouth.  In my dream I was carefully spitting shards of glass and gobs of quicksilver into a safe container, carefully working the razor-sharp shards one by one from under my tongue and from between my cheeks and gums, uninjured and unpoisoned.