Today is muggy as my mother would say. The air is listless and I feel closed in a bit. As I sit here at the keyboard mulling the day, I’m keeping an eye on the deck through the window near me. My goldfinches are back. They were gone for a while, but two of them are back at the feeders. Lots of chickadees are in and out. Yesterday a red spawn of Satan and I had a stare down. He stood on the deck rail daring me so I chased him away time and time again. I even shook the branches on which he had taken refuge. I turned into a crazy lady. He finally left without getting at any of the feeders I had just filled. Crazy lady one, red spawn of Satan nothing.

Once I finish here I’m heading to the deck with the book I’m reading. It’s a typical summer book without a lot of substance but one with a mystery and one murder so far. It’s called Back of Beyond, and I’m almost finished. Summers past I used to try and read something I couldn’t get through like Crime and Punishment, but I gave up doing that as I never did finish any of them. Besides, I find murder and mayhem far more fun to read. My iPad already has about six mysteries loaded for my trip, but I figure I’ll need a few more. The flights are long.

Last night I had the weirdest dream. I know the dream came from my subconscious because I have to pick up some prescriptions at the pharmacy which has called a couple of times, and the errand has been on my mind. In my dream, I went to Pullo’s, the drugstore which used to be right next to the movie theater when I was a kid. Mr. Pullo had a mustache and always wore a short white coat with buttons across the front like Dr. Kildare used to wear in the movies. In my dream, a boy was hanging by his feet from a bar halfway up the front door. He looked a bit like Cheetah wearing overalls and hanging from a branch in a Tarzan movie, but no one inside seemed to care or even notice. The soda fountain was right where it had been in Pullo’s but the back of the pharmacy was different in my dream. There was a man sitting next to a griddle, like they have in diners, and he was smoking a cigar. Mr. Pullo and he were talking. The man was burly and dressed in a heavy coat and hat. For some reason he looked Russian to me. That’s where the dream ended.

At some point I got up to go to the bathroom, and when I fell back to sleep, the dream started again with the same boy in overalls hanging on the door. I walked into Pullo’s but that is as far as I remember of the rerun.

It’s amazing what our subconscious resurrects. I have an errand I have to do, and I’m getting nagged in my dreams. I swear I’m going today!