I think Sharon was there. It was in our old house in Paradise, same but different, you know, as things usually are in a dream. One of her two horses got a weird idea in its head and leaped up on the roof of our garage. I was on my way to work at the time, but I changed my plans, as this was too interesting to miss.
How were we going to get this dumb horse back down without breaking a leg or a rib? I suggested rolling it off sideways, but that didn't seem altogether without risk. Maybe some long boards to make a ramp? There were no boards available that would even come close to fitting the bill. I don't know how it resolved.
I know there was another dream earlier in the night, but I had bad heartburn and kept waking up and now it's forgotten. There was a person of note, whose name I am hoping to recall by sitting here typing as I attempt to squeeze the memory from my brain, like the last bit of toothpaste from a tube. Nope. It's gone.
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I've changed my comments settings to allow for anyone to comment. All comments are welcome, even spineless potshots from anonymous posters. Please, by all means, give me the tongue lashing I so richly deserve. I promise not to hunt you down and melt your keyboard with my plasma cannon. I won't, however, promise not to pout and make that face you can't stand.