I Had a Dream

And Barack Obama was in it. I dreamed I was in some kind of shopping center and he just walked in to look at a table of books. He was wearing a red Polo shirt. In the dream, I kept thinking how I had to act cool, you know, not stare or faint or anything. It was so vivid. I could see the freckles on his arms. He had a surprisingly deep voice and also wasn't surrounded by any body guards or security. I thought he might notice how unaffected I was acting and want to talk to me. He did not. It must be so odd to be famous enough that you make cameo appearances in the dreams of strangers.

Here is a photo of a set back blue house I pass on my walk down South Street.

This is my shadow. Hair was biggish that day.

The campus. It's so pretty in the fall.

I guarantee that even though you can't see them with the naked eye, there are at least 16 squirrels hidden in this photo somewhere.

A little street flair.
And the corresponding house. Seems as though Home Depot was having a sale on their lilac paint.

Not sure what this ad is for, but I like it's retro-ness.

Cat in a bag.

Cat in a bag in profile.
Cat in a bag from afar.
This is where Henri sits every night while I'm on the computer.

And then sometimes these two get together. It's more for actual warmth than companionship.

And voile! The first Christmas window on my street. I'm sure there will be many more to follow.

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