triggers some of my dreams. Night before last I drempt we’d moved to a piece of bottomland close to the mississippi, living in an ancient stern wheeler converted to a houseboat/house. We all took shelter down in the hold as a tornado came through; dozens of neighbors showed up, too, as the twister took their trailers off to Oz. I tied myself to the helm as the bottomland flooded, and the boat careered off down the mississippi banging off snags and banks, and I prayed for the ancient hull to take the beating without being smashed to toothpicks. The trip was fast and furious and I was bruised black and blue by the time the twister left us alone, but instead of ending up in the miss. delta we were somehow in some british tidal flat, where I finally was thrown free of the boat, and enlisted hundreds of men to come help rescue everyone from the ship before the tide came back in.

Hacking through the hull to get to the family and neighbors I discovered that the Ogwife and Oglet had reinforced the ancient hold with pieced of baby cribs and playpens, which had apparently done an excellent job of keeping it all together.

Whele I had been busy trying to steer the ancient behemoth, it had accumulated over 200 passengers trying to escape the tempest, and we disgorged these ten score of People of Walmart looking folks in their spandex and fur boots onto the british countryside. The british didn’t even notice.