Yet Another Journal

Nostalgia, DVDs, old movies, television, OTR, fandom, good news and bad, picks, pans,
cute budgie stories, cute terrier stories, and anything else I can think of.


 Contact me at yetanotherjournal (at) mindspring (dot) com

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» Sunday, July 13, 2008
The Rain in  Spain  Georgia...
...stays mainly over Atlanta...wow, it's been raining for almost three hours, both light and heavy (there was a tremendous clap of thunder a few minutes ago and the rain is pouring down again); I know it's at least that long because I got up at quarter to ten after listening to Willow woof for a few minute and, with my glasses off, saw what was either rain or fog out the bathroom window. No knowing how long it was raining before that. And, hurrah, it looks oas if it's been raining over Lake Lanier all that time!

James confirmed it was rain and took Willow out, while I crawled back into bed. I'm feeling rather...icky is the only word for it...this morning. I had a sore throat starting last night and a headache, and they were still around this morning, along with a stuffy nose. I think the headache is sinus-generated, as my teeth are hurting, too.

James, bless his heart, made biscuits for breakfast and the hot fluffiness soothed my throat. The throat isn't so sore now, but my sinuses are aching more by the minute.

I am feeling a bit unsettled because I dreamed about my mother last night. I was driving someone someplace, in what looked like my Neon, but it had a hatchback, with the back open, as if the platform wasn't there. I had to stop for a minute, maybe at a bank machine, and when I came back there was my mother sitting in the hatch part. She was dressed as she always did when relaxing around the house, in a flowered housecoat and and old pair of nylon stockings. She was stretched out in the back as if she were sitting in her chair and I think she was crocheting or had one of the afghans on her lap. I opened the hatch and asked her what she was doing there, and I could touch her foot and the material of the stocking, but she wouldn't speak to me. It's always like that. She never speaks to me, only just looks at me, with her lips pursed. I can't tell if she's angry or just quiet. It's so frustrating.

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