I had a dream last night that centered on the "fact" that Alton Brown was promoting a product called something like "Tasty Frosted Human Treats." (They were like gingerbread men). The unreal part of it was that it was not at all clear if the "Human" meant "for" or "made of."

I suspect that came in part because, scrolling through the on-screen list of "what's on" last night or the night before, "Good Eats" was one of the choices, and also I was flipping through a catalog ("Unique Irish Gifts" or somesuch) that was selling mailman-shaped cookies for dogs.

(I track down the sources of symbolism in my dreams. Partly because it's really odd how something you barely paid attention to at the moment you saw it will show up, but also partly to convince myself that I'm not going crazy.)

(I never took drugs in my life. When people asked me why, I'd tell them the dreams I have when my brain is chemically unaltered are disturbing enough, and I'd be afraid of what messing around with neurotransmitters might do to me. That's not the only reason but it's a big one)

***
I have an added task this afternoon (I really need to get off here and do some of my piano practice for the day before I need to go over to work). My neighbor, yesterday, as I was leaving for piano lesson, had his mower out and was mowing up (and bagging) the leaves in his yard. Sigh. So Lawn Peer Pressure strikes again.

(I was really planning on waiting until ALL the leaves were off my pecan tree before raking. But I suspect my neighbors would be annoyed if the south winds we often get on warm fall days were to blow leaves from my yard over into theirs. The line of demarcation is very very obvious.)

My sore shoulder is not going to be happy about this. Nor will my allergies.