(no subject)

I dreamed I was visiting my mother-in-law's other house, which seemed to be in the Pacific Northwest somewhere. The back porch opened out onto the ocean so you could sit on the deck and watch the surf, while the front porch was on a lake front, that was simultaneously in a city and also looked out snow-covered mountainsides; occasionally an avalanche tumbled down into the lake. This being a dream, that was a totally believable situation - although I may have borrowed it from a science fiction story (probably Dan Simmon's Hyperion), where people had windows and doors that were time or distance portals.

I believe I was there to help her pack up because she was moving, although when I looked around, I couldn't understand why. It was a charming place, painted a cheerful royal blue and bright yellow (sometimes in stripes), and had the neatest little built in cabinets and shelves for knick-knacks. I guess it was a bit small, but her real place is one of those drab mobile homes with fake wood-paneling everywhere. She was out running errands and I stepped out front to watch the snow falling into the lake, not realizing I had left the back door open, and waves were coming in as the tide rose. I looked back in side to see the water coming in the door, screeched a bit, and ran back to shut the door, whereupon the six inches of water on the floor quickly dried up. At least, the next time I looked it was gone.

My ML came back and said we were going out to lunch. Between the kitchen and the bedroom, there was a spiral staircase that went down to a lower level where there was a tram that would take us directly to a 50's style diner. Now that I try to remember, it was more like one of those boat things with several rows of seats at the Pirates of the Caribbean ride at Dismalland. But we never got there, somehow I wound up standing on the street, waiting for a bus.

(no subject)

I dreamed I was visiting my mother-in-law's other house, which seemed to be in the Pacific Northwest somewhere. The back porch opened out onto the ocean so you could sit on the deck and watch the surf, while the front porch was on a lake front, that was simultaneously in a city and also looked out snow-covered mountainsides; occasionally an avalanche tumbled down into the lake. This being a dream, that was a totally believable situation - although I may have borrowed it from a science fiction story (probably Dan Simmon's Hyperion), where people had windows and doors that were time or distance portals.

I believe I was there to help her pack up because she was moving, although when I looked around, I couldn't understand why. It was a charming place, painted a cheerful royal blue and bright yellow (sometimes in stripes), and had the neatest little built in cabinets and shelves for knick-knacks. I guess it was a bit small, but her real place is one of those drab mobile homes with fake wood-paneling everywhere. She was out running errands and I stepped out front to watch the snow falling into the lake, not realizing I had left the back door open, and waves were coming in as the tide rose. I looked back in side to see the water coming in the door, screeched a bit, and ran back to shut the door, whereupon the six inches of water on the floor quickly dried up. At least, the next time I looked it was gone.

My ML came back and said we were going out to lunch. Between the kitchen and the bedroom, there was a spiral staircase that went down to a lower level where there was a tram that would take us directly to a 50's style diner. Now that I try to remember, it was more like one of those boat things with several rows of seats at the Pirates of the Caribbean ride at Dismalland. But we never got there, somehow I wound up standing on the street, waiting for a bus.

(no subject)

There was a headline on Compuserve that a photography gallery in Pittsburgh was having a exhibition honoring Rachel Carson. Since she was one of my inspirations for my choice of career path, and it's Silent Spring's* fortieth anniversary, I followed the link hoping to see some of the photos. Unfortunately, no examples from the display (other than a lone photo of the woman herself) were posted, although this article, gives a description of a few of them. I suppose it has to do with the photographer's copyrights and as John said, "They want you to actually come to the gallery." However, since it's in Pittsburgh, rather a long drive from CA, I'm unlikely to make it there. A bit disappointing, but maybe they'll publish them in a book so the rest of us can see them.

*Silent Spring, published the year I was born, was one of the first books illustrated how the indiscriminate use of pesticides in agricultural and horticultural applications harmed more than just destructive insects, and led to the banning of DDT and the regulation of other chemicals.

(no subject)

There was a headline on Compuserve that a photography gallery in Pittsburgh was having a exhibition honoring Rachel Carson. Since she was one of my inspirations for my choice of career path, and it's Silent Spring's* fortieth anniversary, I followed the link hoping to see some of the photos. Unfortunately, no examples from the display (other than a lone photo of the woman herself) were posted, although this article, gives a description of a few of them. I suppose it has to do with the photographer's copyrights and as John said, "They want you to actually come to the gallery." However, since it's in Pittsburgh, rather a long drive from CA, I'm unlikely to make it there. A bit disappointing, but maybe they'll publish them in a book so the rest of us can see them.

*Silent Spring, published the year I was born, was one of the first books illustrated how the indiscriminate use of pesticides in agricultural and horticultural applications harmed more than just destructive insects, and led to the banning of DDT and the regulation of other chemicals.