I used to have some pretty bad nightmares when I lived in Chicago. Things like sojourns into hell or dreams that made me shake so violently I woke myself up, still shaking. The other night, I had the worst nightmare I’ve had since I’ve been living in the cabin:

The neighborhood kids were riding their four-wheeler neatly between my rows of oak trees, the frames of my glasses snapped on the side as I went outside to tell them to “get off my lawn,” but before I could their mother came up and yelled at the kids and they dispersed. A couple of harmless (i.e., nonpoisonous) snakes showed up and kinda started trying to bite me and their mother (but she wasn’t afraid); I told her we should run up to the cabin (even though it was a mess and I felt a tinge of social embarrassment), which seemed to be mistaken for something suggestive (which was more embarrassing), and that’s it.  My dreams are so much more pleasant now, probably because my concerns are so trivial.


  1. Elaine said

    too bad about the glasses I hope you can get them fixed or at least a replacement frame

    • Nathan said

      Mom, it was a dream. My glasses are fine.

      • Fox said

        Hi Elaine, this is Fox speaking

      • steve p said

        sorry but that comment cracks me up… “Mom, it was a dream. My glasses are fine.” haha

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