Dreaming

I had my first dream about the ski trip last nite.

Little of it resembled February in Utah. I mean, it was eerily surreal. I vaguely remember an interstate. Lots of concrete. Not a speck of snow. Which would explain why we were skateboarding instead of skiing. Scotty was drinking from a stein. Deer Valley looked like Potosi. There was a clothesline with that day’s laundry hanging on it between the “condos”. I seem to recall some Skynyrd blaring. And there were twins who both resembled a thinner pair of Craig Goodspeeds.

Is it too late to invite Scott Creighton to join us?