Yadda

Yesterday, I got up very early. I had a purpose for doing so, but the point is – I liked it. My rhythm has shifted to the other side of the clock. I am in a sleep early/get up early mode. So I thought. This morning, I set the alarm for early. But I kept hitting snooze. Not because I was tired, but because I didn’t turn the furnace on last night, and it was colder in my apartment than I wanted to walk around in. Instead, I slept in until the last possible moment.

I dreamt this morning that a very expensive house overlooking a vineyard, in what’s living room I was standing, was run into by a private airplane (like a Cessna trainer). I was standing in the living room looking out over the vineyard and hillside through a huge glass wall – it was a very beautiful home – when I heard the plane’s engine noise getting closer and louder.

I stayed in the middle of the large room, so I’d have the best opportunity to run in any given direction as needed, and hunkered and waited. I even unclipped my phone so I could call 911. Then I saw it. It flew out from above the house, obviously stalling, as if it tried to land on our roof, but didn’t get its wheels down, and now it had no choice but to ditch in the fields beyond.

The pilot banked hard and let slip his remaining lift, and set the plane down abruptly but nicely in a small clearing 50 yards from the house, where some workers were clearing away some dead vines. And I mean it was a small clearing – it was about the size of the plane itself. He dropped it in there like it was a VTOL.

Chuckling at the irate but unsuprised response of the migrant workers, I saw that clearly the pilot was okay. Thats when he revved the engine again, and proceeded to taxi up the slight slope, right into the house. I reached the operator just as the side wall gave way and the engine cowl pushed into the kitchen in a rain of sheetrock and framing lumber.

“9-1-1, what is your emergency?”

“aighh! Wait a minute!!” I half chuckle as I run towards the front door, hoping I reach it before the fuselage closes the hallway.

“Plane versus house!”

“What is the address, sir?”

I am standing on the front stoop, and I read the number off the column. “1841, I don’t know the street.”

The dispatcher sent the appropriate units. Meanwhile, the plane had stopped and the house seemed stable for the moment. I went back inside to see if I could help the pilot.

Turns out the young pilot was a stalker who had something against the residents. He was arrested a couple of years earlier for entering and tresspass, when he was discovered sitting at their kitchen table eating cereal, dressed as a carriage driver. His handsome cab was parked along the curb out front.

This dream had more – more mundane stuff – both before and after the sequence I just described. Still, I wonder at the mind that comes up with flying (taxiing?) a plane into a home, and such a strange criminal record. I wish I’d have thought to listen real-world for the plane noise. Maybe instead, it had just about hit MY home!

I started quailng when I got to work today. Still am. I don’t want to be here, because there are people. I just want to go home and hide in bed. No one around me knows I am feeling this way, and thats good because it means I am still in control… but I was hoping I wouldn’t feel this way so soon, or at all. It doesn’t trouble me long term, only in the short term in that I don’t want to be here.

I was up early yesterday to make treats for our office. During Christmas season, each of our two floors takes a turn preparing treats to share with the building. Monday was upstairs’ turn. Most treat days are full of holiday sweets, which is too bad, because every year, the non-sweets get gobbled up first. For me, its natural – I’m a protein kind-o- guy – but I think it also points to a trend which nobody else can see.

At any rate, I brought protein. I made Shrimp Wonton Cups – a Pampered Chef receipe, and my first time at trying it. There are 100 people in my building. From the directions (pre-bake wonton cups first, then fill and re-bake) I figured starting at 5:30 would give me plenty of time. But, you have to understand my kitchen – I did not have the space to streamline this process.

In the end, I only took around 50. I had oven troubles – my cheep little trailer-home stove doesn’t keep regular temperature – plus I just couldn’t get the cheese to bubble. I felt that I had overcooked the wonton shells, and that because of my substituting rehydrated dry chives instead of fresh, that my filling tasted strongly of garlic and little of anything else. I couldn’t even taste the shrimp.

But, they ate up well! And I received many compliments, even requests for the recipe! Folks thought the flavor was good, and one person said “everything someone could want in an hors’deurve!” Wow!

I’m glad they were good, because I still had the ingredients for at least 50 more.

I made up another batch of 50 (improving my time 5pm – 7:15pm) to take to Bible Study, along with Pizza Rolls. They were scarfed! Unfortunately, Jill didn’t eat any. *sigh* But, I impressed most of the other ladies, and all of the men! *laughs*

I came home with the intent of cleaning up, and using the last of the ingredients I had purchased. Instead, I found both that I was tired, and that I had left the oven on the whole evening.