"The Wrong House" replayed, but this time we were house-sitting for another family and my whole family was there. My husband and kids were all happy and calm but I was worried again, "Who is taking care of our house?"
I'm at a poetry slam, waiting for my turn on stage. I realise I haven't completely memorized the brand new poem that I'm about to perform, and I don't have the words with me on paper. Mike McGee is the host of the poetry slam. He tells me not to worry. If I make a mistake and recover, the audience and judges will be on my side. I can't decide whether to risk it, or go back to one of my older poems that I know well.
I'm camped with a bunch of people who are not my family in a trailer in a parking lot at a provincial campground. I'm vaguely aware that the park range will kick us out soon, because we're planning to sleep over in a parking lot, and you're only allowed to stay in the designated campsites. In the meantime, the trailer (which is like an older vintage construction trailer) keeps rolling from one side of the parking lot to the other, and we have to push it by hand back to the spot where we want to park it. At one point it rolls so far out of the way that we have to take it back through the interior of a building, including up a flight of stairs and onto an elevator.
question: what's on your dream tv these days?
mompoet - hot nights, weird dreams