donut, driving, dream

The soon-to-be home of Top Pot Doughnuts (Wedgwood) has had erected upon its roof a gigantic metal donut. It's not a "Grand Opening" sign, but it's a very good sign.

Yesterday I had an obliging coworker follow me to the mechanic to drop off my car. There are nine lights on the way there, and it’s about a mile and a half. After the first light, right by our office, we didn’t have to stop the rest of the way. The lights were all green, or they turned green as we approached. We were back in 20 minutes. Weird!

I had another dream about my aunt lastnight. As always when I dream about her, she had recovered very, very well from the effects of brain cancer and several surgeries. The puffiness in her face was gone and she could smile with both sides of her mouth. She could walk unassisted and even swim. Her face was thin and she had blond streaks in her dark brown curly hair—longer than I’ve ever seen her with. As usual in these dreams, she talked about how hard she’d had to work to heal to this point. She and my mom and I were sitting in a huge bathtub, getting ready for a party. She and her family lived in a beautiful mansion in an old neighborhood (I think my subconscious was taking a cue from the Volunteer Park area of Capitol Hill.) I remember inlaid marble in a Mariner’s Compass design, big old trees lining the streets, a storm outside. Of course, the dream had many subplots and twists, but what remained palpable when I woke up was the intense joy and gratefulness seeing my aunt so healthy and free and independent. I took her face in my hands and kissed her cheeks. Then when I woke up, I realized, as usual, that it was just a dream. That always makes my heart sad. The joy of that image of my aunt, followed immediately by the wistful realization of its unreality, keeps pulsing into my mind at intervals.