Lost Hour came late today. Makes sense in that we didn’t shut it down till 1am. And then after a half dozen 5$ martini’s between us in the hotel bar after the Canadian Tenor’s show. Such a great day today, ah, yesterday. So many laughs large and small. Lots of talk, music, wine and joy. Hard to get the pen moving now though in that it is so much easier to sink into a dreamy reverie. I do want to write down one thing about the day though. Before Moosie (my new stuffed moose wearing a mini Canadian Tenors t-shirt – Yah, I see your eyes rolling, but you can’t really ever take the teenage girl out of the middle-aged woman you know.) and I return to the land of Nod.
Lil’ Dude asked me today, in and amongst about a billion other assorted questions, what did I think was more important? Memories or Dreams? Tough call, ay? Given that memories form part of the fabric of who we are and give context to our dreams. I’m going to side with dreams as I strive to live joyfully in every moment and I can’t live backward, so faith and hope in my dreams pulls me forward and, quite honestly, keeps me alive. Then again, all of my writing is memory and dream intertwined, so closely knit as for there to be nothing to choose between them.
So maybe I don’t have an answer to that question at all Lil’Dude. I’ll just put it in the big box of things-to-think-about and take it out and mull it over from time to time. To turn it over in my fingers and feel the cool slick hardness on one side, the gritty powdery bit underneath, the squishy bit round an edge. All the while I breathe in the scent of cheese puffs and lavender, stale beer and creosote, basil and sweet spicy boy.
Moosie says G’night and G’bless.
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